#it was only like 20 bucks but I didn't have any money

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[disgustingtwitches]

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

~

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A League Christmas

Day 11 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Summary: A Justice League Christmas party overwhelms you, so you sneak off to find a quiet place. Dick finds you and keeps you company.

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Warnings: fluff, brief discussions of insecurity and anxiety, brotherly Jason Todd slander, Hal Jordan (he's a warning by himself) and a GLTAS reference.

A/N: I didn't specify which Dick Grayson this is, so feel free to pick your favorite! I just like Young Justice's Nightwing suit. Also, I love Hal and Razer in GLTAS if anyone is curious. Friendly reminder that I write for several DC characters in this fic, if you'd like to request something with them (request rules & character list)! :)

The first annual Justice League Christmas Gala. Wonder Woman’s idea meets Batman’s money.

Your apprehension about attending has only increased since you got the invitation a week and a half before the gala. The mix of insecurity, fear, and knowing that you’ll be overwhelmed causes you to question whether or not you should RSVP.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you going to the gala?” Nightwing asks, landing beside you.

“I don’t know. Probably not? It’s not like a party of that size will miss one no-name vigilante,” you answer, not looking at him.

“You’re kidding, right? You have to go; who else will keep me sane?”

You glance at him before saying, “One less mouth to feed. I’m doing it for Bruce.”

Nightwing stays quiet, walking beside you until you reach the end of the alley.

“What if we go together? If I’m your date you won’t have to deal with any of it alone. I’ll be stuck by your side the entire time,” he offers.

“I- that would be nice,” you answer quietly, hopeful that being beside him will improve the night.

“Then it’s a date,” Nightwing says, his usual energy back as he jumps onto a dumpster. Extending a hand down to you, he adds, “Now, let’s find Harley, she owes me 20 bucks.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred!” Dick calls as he enters the Batcave, pulling his mask off.

“Yes, Master Grayson? Another injury?” Alfred replies.

“No, of course not, I’m not Jason,” Dick answers.

“Heard that!” Jason yells from somewhere.

Dick shrugs as he smiles at Alfred. “I need you to do something for me at the gala.”

“Anything, Master Grayson.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Stephanie and Cass invited you to go shopping for the gala and found what they (and you) deemed ‘the perfect look.’ It is a combination of your suit colors and Nightwing’s. You feel good in the dress but still wonder if you made the right decision by agreeing to go.

When you enter the venue, you hear a sharp whistle and turn to see Dick Grayson walking toward you. His suit is a deep blue, with elements of the bright Nightwing blue you’ve grown to love. A domino mask covers his eyes and cheekbones, but you still know how beautiful he is.

“You look amazing,” you tell him.

“Seriously? You look like a princess,” he gushes, running a finger over the fabric of your outfit. “You look really good in blue; better than me, maybe.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you argue, laughing as he brushes a piece of hair away from your mask.

“You ready?” he asks, offering his arm.

You loop your arm through his elbow, and he lays his other hand on your arm.

“You’ll do amazing,” he whispers as you approach the top of the stairs.

“Mr. Red Hood and Artemis Grace of Bana-Mighdall,” Alfred announces.

“Mr. Red Hood?” you ask, looking at Dick. “That makes you…”

“Mr. Nightwing, yep. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that everyone here already knows who we are.”

Alfred says your name first, flipping the expected script. You look at Dick and smile brightly, whispering your gratitude for making you laugh. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you nod at Alfred and he sends you a quick, encouraging wink before reading the next set of names.

Your arm stays looped through Dick’s as you make the rounds, saying hello to the heroes you know and introducing yourself to those you don’t. Dick was serious when he said he’d be by your side the whole time. Even when you go to get drinks, his hand stays on your lower back as he orders for you.

“Nightwing? A word?” Superman asks, smiling as he looks over at you.

Dick’s face drops toward yours, and though you can’t see his dark eyes looking at you, you know what he’s asking.

“Go ahead,” you say with a nod. “I’ll be around when you’re done.”

He nods once, gripping your hand before he leaves with Superman. You accept the drink and walk to a secluded area, taking a seat and a deep breath.

“Hey,” someone says. “This seat taken?”

You’re prepared to lie to avoid a conversation, but when you see who it is you smile and say, “No, help yourself.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick’s eyes stray to you as he listens to Superman and answers his questions, nodding and laughing when needed. He sees someone approach the table and hopes that they don’t ask to sit down. When you smile and gesture to the seat, the man turns and Dick releases a sigh, turning his attention back to Superman.

✯✯✯✯✯

“And then Razer said, ‘Do you share my opinion that the sweet embrace of death would be welcome today?’” Green Lantern Hal Jordan finishes, laughing alongside you. “Hate to leave so soon, but thanks for the company,” he adds before standing to visit the other Green Lanterns, who were fashionably late (courtesy of Kyle Rayner, no doubt).

After he leaves, and you’re alone as your anxiety begins to grow as the music, the overlapping conversations, and the extravagant gown overwhelm your senses. Abandoning your seat, you back toward the door, smiling at Diana as she passes, before turning and leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick hasn’t checked on you since Hal sat down, but he feels a sudden urge to look over. When he sees you backing toward the door, he knows something is off.

“Sorry, Supes, but I need to go,” he interrupts.

Superman looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Take your time.”

Dick nods and rushes through the ballroom, following you up into a small sitting room with large windows. He closes the door, muffling the sounds of the party. You sigh as the quietness washes over you. Turning to him, you begin apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just got overwhelmed, and…”

“Hey,” Dick interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.

He sits first, then pulls you down beside him, letting you lean against his side while he intertwines your fingers.

“Don’t apologize for leaving a situation that made you uncomfortable. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“Yes. I just- it was a lot,” you answer.

“I get it. We can stay here as long as you want, or we can really ditch and go get ice cream or hot chocolate or something,” Dick offers, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

There is a small clicking sound just before the lawn outside the window is illuminated with thousands of Christmas lights. You stand quickly, pulling Dick to the window with you, looking at all of the decorations and the intricate light display.

Unbeknownst to you, Alfred looks up into the window and smiles when he sees you standing so close to Dick. “A Christmas miracle,” he mutters before returning to the gala.

“I’d say this is a pretty good first date, all things considered,” Dick says, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You pull your hand from his and turn in his arms to ask, “This was a date?”

“Of course it was.” He rushes to add, “Unless you don’t want it to be.”

“No, I do,” you answer quickly. “I just thought you offered to go with me because I was nervous.”

Dick brushes his fingers against the bottom of your mask as he says, “I wanted to go with you because you’re the best part of my life.”

“Take it off,” you whisper.

Dick smiles as he pulls the mask away from your face, freezing as his eyes look into yours. He drops your mask on a nearby table, keeping his head turned away as he peels his own off and drops it beside yours.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Grayson,” you tease, looking into his eyes.

“Too long,” Dick agrees, running a knuckle along your cheekbone. “You really are the best part of me.”

“You’re the best part of me,” you parrot, pushing your hands under the lapel of his suit blazer to rest on his chest.

Dick smiles, opening his hand so his warm, calloused palm rests against your cheek. He tilts his head to kiss you, his lips moving slowly against yours in the best slow dance you’ve ever experienced. You lean against him as you follow his movements, more than happy to let him lead.

“Thanks for being my date,” you whisper as he pulls back.

“I got the good end of this deal,” he replies.

The door opens suddenly, and Dick pulls you against his chest, keeping his face to the window as he asks who it is.

“You know the masks are supposed to stay on for this reason, right?” Bruce asks.

“Then why are you using your real voice?” you respond playfully.

“Besides, I can’t kiss her in the mask,” Dick adds, turning to face Bruce.

“Your mask only covers your eyes,” Bruce argues.

“But his eyes are pretty,” you say, smiling.

“I just came to tell you that you can leave if you want to,” Bruce explains, smiling at you. “I’m glad you both came, though.”

He closes the door behind him as Dick looks at you, the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes as he pulls you closer.

“Me too,” you both say together.

[montimer]

Joker x reader

Reader works at a store

gn!reader, could be any joker ig

Summary: the store is getting robbed by the joker but as tired as you are, you just give the money to him. (Based on the ep 'jokers millions' cuz he needs cash)

____________________________

It was pretty late. A few customers were walking around the store. You just quietly stood behind the register, waiting for your shift to end.

And that is when you heard a gunshot, then glass breaking. Two tall man entered the store, they had clown make up on and wore black clothing.

They didn't move, not until another men came in. He was in purple, wearing a hat, making half of his face covered in a shadow. "Alright boys, lets make this quick" he snapped his fingers ordering them.

He then looked around and his eyes landed on you. Or atleast that two dots that were seeable.

You felt so tired, stressed and exhausted, you just waited for something to happen.

He made his way towards you in fast steps. Only when he got closer did you realize that the man infront of you was no other than The Joker himself.

You noticed his flower and that smile you recognize on posters.

He raised his gun at you demanding money. You just nodded at him as you opened the register. "Okay okay, lower that thing man"

You handed him the cash that was in there, about...50 bucks. He almost looked surprised. Maybe cuz you actually listened with out crying for your life. Or maybe cuz you seemed unimpressed? Well it is gotham after all.

Not that you weren't afraid at the moment.

"Ah..good choice. You're a smart one"

He put his gun and the money in his pocket. He looked back up at you.

"Happen to know the code for the safe?"

You giggled at him. He made a surprised face once again, you had to hold back from laughing.

"Ya really think this poor store has a safe? Only the boss has more money on him. And he went home like two hours ago. Sorry"

"Huh, he left?!"

"Yeah..he always does that. He leaves the store for us to close. About that..my shift ends in 20 minutes and i don't wanna deal with that" you point at the broken windows.

He looks back at you.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Well its not my fault that its broken-"

"No, i mean. Aren't you afraid of me? I mean do you even know who ya talking to?"

"The charming prince of crime. The Joker, yeah yeah i know.. i heard about you"

The word charming made him smile.

"You know what sweets, i like ya! You aren't like the others. Oh and by the way. The gun wasn't loaded"

You blink in surprise and he just laughed.

"Low on bullets that is.. but you're very cooperative. I like that." He put his hands up picturing you.

"Well gotta fly before batboy and birdie comes looking for me. Wish i could steal more of your time."

You look at your clock. Your shift has ended. Plus you survived an encounter with a villain. But at what cost.

"Heres my card. Er, and your name sweet?"

"..Y/n..Y/n L/n.."

"I'll keep that in my memory"

He petted your head, he then waved and whistled for his hench men. They left the store running as you tried to keep yourself together.

'Maybe i should have gave him a fake name, would he have been mad then?' You took a look at the card he gave you. It was a normal poker card. A joker card.

'Mmm. Im just gonna go home and deal with this later'

Little did you know you just made this crazy clown interested in you.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

If It's wrong I don't wanna be right

Cash Wheeler X Fem reader

Summary: What happens when the bucks younger sister finally caves and gets with one of her brothers biggest rivals. 

Prompt  60 “Please? I’ll be good I promise!”

Warnings: SMUT, use of smoking, alcohol, swearing

Word count:  2218

Main Masterlist Cash Wheeler Masterlist

Cash’s POV

I knew this was wrong but I didn’t care. I had waited years for this moment, no way I was going to let it slip between my fingers. This little obsession started four years ago. I met Y/n at a wrestling event and instantly fell in love. She was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen. Dax and I were thinking of signing with AEW when I met Y/n. She introduced herself and told us all about what AEW had to offer us. I was instantly sold, I knew I needed to get to know her, spend all of my time with her. I would have asked her out right then and there but the ring on her finger told me otherwise.  

Even though she was taken I figured a little crush wouldn't hurt anyone. As I got to know her I learnt that she was engaged and I was shocked to find out that she was the younger sister of Matt and Nick Jackson. Y/n was the polar opposite of her brothers, they were straight edge, she was a party girl. The bucks were good christian boys but Y/n haven't been to church in years. The more I learnt about her the deeper I fell in love. I picked up on her habits and the two of us would often share drinks after shows. 

Then one day everything changed when the rivalry between FTR and The Young Bucks became real. I was quite angry when the bucks beat us for our tag titles but was even more angry when Y/n and I stopped hanging out. My anger continued to grow over the years. In a way I was praying for the downfall of her fiance. I wasn’t stupid I knew she was only with the older man for the money he had to offer. Y/n didn’t wrestle anymore and served as trainer backstage and writer for the show. I knew the job paid well but not good enough for a Birkin bag. 

It made me sick everytime I saw them together. I could love her better than he could. Heck I knew she didn't really love him either. Dax informed me that this crush had turned into an obsession and he was right. Yet, I kept my feelings a secret for three years, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

*****

All Out London

I felt like I had been tossing and turning for hours. I couldn't seem to fall asleep. The nerves of the big show kept me awake. I looked at the clock and it read 4:23 AM, too early to start the day but I couldn't stare at the ceiling in my hotel room any longer. I threw on a sweater and headed down to the lobby, hoping the fresh air would help in any form. Just like I suspected the lobby was empty, the drunks had cleared and the morning birds were yet to arrive. I stepped outside to the large balcony on the main floor and was shocked to find Y/n. 

“Can’t sleep?” I asked as I approached her. 

“Nope, you?” She responded

“Nah. I didn’t know you smoked?” I asked Y/n as I watched her place the half gone cigarette between her lips, breathing out the smoke into the gloomy darkness. 

“If my brothers ask, I stopped smoking 10 years ago. It helps me sleep” She said before bringing the cigarette back up to her lips. 

“I think it’s so funny how different you are compared to your brothers” I told Y/n fascinated 

“We are polar opposites. They haven’t had a drink in their lives while I have been drinking since I was 15. Not to mention you know about my little smoking secret.” 

I said nothing, wanting her to continue. “I started smoking when I was 16, I was the trouble maker obviously. I got away with it too and actually technically did quit when I was 20. I only smoke sometimes now. Mostly when I am stressed or I can't sleep”

��“Well, your secret is safe with me.” I told her honestly. In a weird twisted way I was more attracted to her now than before. She stood in front of me with baggy sweatpants and a hoodie that was two sizes too big. She wore no makeup, hair in a messy bun with glasses I have only seen her wear a few times before. She smelt like vanilla and tobacco, her green eyes stared back at me, a mix of exhaustion and desire. 

“If you weren't a sworn enemy of my brothers I would probably have you in my hotel room right now” I choked at the words that left her lips. I could feel my cheeks heat up and get a bit hard with her words. I knew that Y/n was now single but as the time passed the FTR and Bucks rivalry became so intense that it would never work between us. It would be like getting with the enemy. 

I didn’t even know what to say. Y/n left me speechless. I watched as she put out her cigarette and took a step towards me. We were chest to chest, I could smell the smoke on her breath. She didn’t even say anything, she just gave me a look that told me all I needed to know. She wanted me and I wanted her back, I had for years. 

“We really shouldn't be doing this Y/n” The words fell out in a whisper. I was internally punching myself at my choice of words. I knew it was wrong but I needed this.  

“I know baby” Y/n said as she cupped my face and whispered in my ear. “But as you can tell I don’t like following the rules. This is wrong but, don’t they say two wrongs make a right? Me and you can make that right.” I could feel myself getting harder as she continued to speak. “I know you want me, I’ve always known Cash. I’m not stupid. I can feel how bad you want me too” Y/n said in a seductive tone as she palmed my clothed erection. 

I knew this was going to be the only chance I would get so I jumped on it and without hesitation accepted the invite to Y/n’s hotel room. 

****

Everything happened so fast, one second we were in the elevator, the next we were ripping each other's clothes off. Y/n left a trail of kisses from my lips to my navel. Kneeling before me like she was about to say a prayer. I could have came right then and there, but I needed to be inside her. I watched as she placed delicate kisses from the tip of my dick all the way to the base before taking me whole in her mouth in one shot. I let out a loud moan at the feeling. After a moment she started to bob her head around my cock. I was lost in pleasure, I could feel precum starting to spill and my orgasm soon approaching. 

It took all of my strength to get her to stop, she almost looked offended. But I knew I needed to cum inside her. I pushed Y/n on the bed and got on top of her. Spreading her legs ever so gently I pushed into her slowly, wanting to savor the moment. As soon as I was balls deep I took no time and started ramming into her as fast as I could. I took one of her breasts in my mouth, sucking the flesh before switching to the other. 

Y/N’s POV

There was something about this that felt so surreal. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would have Cash Wheeler in my hotel room, not to mention the fact that in a few hours he would be going to war with my brothers. None of that mattered though, I was focused on chasing this high. 

Cash was bigger than I expected, he fit me perfectly, stretching me out beautifully, making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. I could feel he was close, so close. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to hold it, I was determined to make him cum first. I managed to pull him off of me, saying nothing as I looked into his eyes and saw something I never thought I would see, fear. 

Cash’s POV

When Y/n pulled me off of her that was when the reality set in. “Did I hurt you?” I asked, as my eyes scanned over her body, looking for non existent injuries. No response, “Did I do something wrong?” I asked again as I leaned down, placing a delicate kiss on her collarbone. Still nothing. 

She then placed her hands on my chest, drawing shapes on my skin before she pushed me on the bed so she was on top of me. Just before as I was about to speak she cut me off “Shhhh, relax darling you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who invited you into my home so I’m in charge” she said as she placed her hands gently on my still hard cock, giving it a rather hard squeeze, before placing kisses once again on my shaft. She then sunk down on me, slowly, it was torturous. Once she bottomed out she stopped for a moment before she started to bounce slowly on my cock. My hands found her hips as I guided her down on me, it took me everything in me not to trust up into her, she must have read my mind as she said “Don’t even think about it” 

She then began to pick up her pace, slamming down on me as hard as she could, our mixed moans sounded like music to my ears. “I can feel your close” Y/n said as she continued to fuck herself on me “Not yet” I told her, still wanting to make her cum first. Just then she stopped completely. “Fuck” I called out, “Please” I begged her. She just gave me a look “Please? I’ll be good I promise!” I cried out, not even recognizing my own voice, that was filled with desperation. “You know what on second thought maybe you’re right. I’m changing my mind, I can have some fun with this, you don’t cum until I say you can, do you understand?” “Yes ma'am” I replied 

Y/n remained still, rubbing her clit as she began to chase her own orgasm, I could feel her squeezing me as she continued to rub violent circles on the swollen bud. Everything was getting too much, I felt like I would die if I didn’t cum right there in then. My hands gripped the sheets, head thrown back into the pillows as she began to slowly bounce on my cock once more. I could feel her get closer and closer as she increased her speed, her hands on my chest as she rode me beautifully. She grabbed one of my hands, placing it on her clit, indicating me to grant her that extra sensation needed for her release. “You’re doing so good baby, almost there” 

She said praising me, I could feel her pussy start to spasm around my cock and I knew I couldn't hold off any longer. “Cum, inside me” that was all I needed to hear as I let go, my orgasm washing over me. Y/n came right after, fucking us both through our hard orgasms. 

It didn’t take long before she collapsed on my chest, the two of us trying to catch our breath, coming down from our hard orgasms. I don’t ever think I had cum so hard in my life. 

We stayed like that for a while, laying in a comfortable silence. I was first to break the silence “What the fuck was that” I said, laughing a bit. “I don’t fucking know” she responded slowley getting off of me, as I noticed the mess we made. “I don’t think you understand how much I needed that” Y/n said, burying her face into a pillow. 

“Not as much as I did” I responded, before I got up to grab a towel to clean us both up.

I knelt carefully between her legs as I cleaned the mixture of our juices. “You know, If I wasn’t so sensitive and exhausted I would have asked you to eat me out right now” She said, looking at me between her thighs. I could feel myself blush at the comment. 

I looked at the clock and it read 5:30 am. Without even thinking about it I went to grab my clothing that was thrown in different parts of the room. “Don’t tell me you're leaving already Cash” Y/n called out in a sad tone. “We don’t need to be at the arena until noon, stay, get some rest, you have a big match coming up and plus you look like shit” she said jokingly “Have you looked at yourself?” I looked like a hot mess. 

I decided to join Y/n in bed, for the few hrs of sleep, that would end up being the best sleep of my life. 

I didn't know what would happen after today but I knew something. No matter what would happen in a few hours I would fight. I would fight for us. Nothing would ever be the same after what happened, in good ways and bad but I knew this would be something worth fighting for.

[doberbutts]

Facebook marketplace adventures that are Interesting Enough For The Internet:

The tag sale where I filled my basket with probably 50 dollars worth of items and once I got to the Dude With The Money he was like "meh it's about to rain and I don't feel like hauling this shit inside, take it for free", which gave me a large amount of the kitchen stuff I now have

Free PS5 in which I gave him my gamecube and ps2 and my leftover games I haven't touched in years (decades?)- only caveat was I had to go into his basement at his house in order to perform the transaction

Roasting pans and cookie sheets for 5 dollars total from a trans woman who asked to meet in the public place of her choosing. Said public place was the parking lot of an abandoned Bed Bath and Beyond

New! Lawnmower for 20 bucks from a very handsome silver fox Japanese man who just sold his million dollar house we met at. He then asked me to give him a ride to where he and his neighbors usually walk a 5k around their neighborhood every day. And then when I dropped him off asked if I'd like to join them and "have a conversation". Alas I said no and didn't give him my number because he said he was married to a woman but if he'd made any sort of hint at being single or into guys I just might have had a different answer. Pretty sure he was hinting at swinging. (asking for the future: how do you tell the guy inviting you to swing that you're vastly more interested in him than his wife)

New! Woman who just sold her house whose tupperware (5 bucks! For what's probably over a hundred dollars brand new!) I was buying who just kept giving me more things in the box I already bought, who DID give me her number with the expectation that I would text her at some point (I haven't) (sorry lady you're barking up the wrong tree) (I'm sure straight guys think you're pretty tho)

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Anti-propaganda for Emma, Lady of Hamilton.

Girly was a horrible, vile person in every sense of the word, she died unloved, poor, unhealthy, alone and in huge debt and I cannot even feel a shread of pity for her considering how she was a massive homewrecker to Nelson's marriage and golddigger.

When she got pregnant for the first time with her daughter Emma, she was told by Greville, her lover (although a lighter term for "pimp" would be more appropriate in this case) to foster her kid because he didn't feel like doing so which she did with little resistance/negotiation and hesitance (I understand girly wanted money at that time but what kind of mother is that?) and frop what I could gather, she never had a real relationship with her daughter, prioritising money instead.

When she got too expensive for Greville, he sent her off to his newly widowed uncle from a happy marriage of 20 years

She stole Nelson from his wife, Fanny, and was the reason why he acted cruely towards her. Once Fanny gave Nelson an ultimatum to choose between her and his mistress, he left her to be with Hamilton, even scandalousely purshasing for her 2 estates, one to decorate in his glory the other one so they could live together with Hamilton's husband, disassociating himself completely from Fanny to the extent of returning her letters unopened.

When the media picked up on Nelson's cazy threesome she went out of her way to portray poor Fanny as a villain and her husband, whom, although she stays she actually loved and cared for, really just stayed with him for finincial security was getting constantly clowned on by the British media when in reality he was just a man torn by the death of his wife which he lived 20 happy years together and thought of replacing the void in his life by marrying Europe's most popular mistress at the time. Her "adventures" were consistently in the media for Fanny to see, homegirl had the moral courage to not astray herself from her husband and stayed devoted to him right up his death.

Hamilton did actually have feelings for Nelson, and grieved him deeply when he died, but I'm ready to argue that she had a stronger penchant for his rising popularity and wallet instead, considering how she turned down multiple marriage proposals from rich men when her husband died and Nelson was at sea, as she believe Nelson would come out as ultimately richer than all of them combined, and convinced Nelson to include her and the 2 kids she bore by him in his will, but then Nelson died at Trafalgar and her huband dies from (illness?) that's when karma finally catches up to her.

It turns out Nelson died before changing his will. For the rest of her life, Hamilton would take this case to court but was never successful, she was also excluded from Nelson's funeral (which I glad she wasn't allowed in. Can you imagine being Fanny sitting at your husband, the man who have stayed devoted to for almost 20 years, grieving, then you turn around only to see the girl who demonized you in the media and destroyed your marriage crying harder?) Now that Hamilton was irrelevant, no one would show up to the parties she hosted, and instead of being wise and choosing to go back to her hometown with the money she had accumulated in her career as a coutesan, she instead decided to continue her project of furnishing the home dedicated to Nelson's glory, (she believed this could make her money, but can't remember the reasoning, though) racking up massive debts, causing her to be even more depressed and resolving herself to binging and drinking while taking she was taking care of her daughter (an alcoholic parent? That's a big nono).

She tried to keep her relevancy and make a quick buck by publishing all the letters she had exchanged with Nelson when he was at sea, but her plan backfired horribly, the media has now turned against her, not only that, but the book destroyed any popularity she had left, and left her in even bigger debt. And even tough the book she had published indicate in all directions that she indeed had 2 kids by Nelson, she denied it until her death, and treated her daughter horribly. Her daughter eventually disassociates from her aswell, and denies ever being Hamilton's daughter (good for her).

Hamilton eventually tries to flee her debtors, which she successfully did, but died shortly after, as I have said, unloved, unloved, poor, unhealthy, alone and in huge debt. I say she got what she deserved.

Sorry for the massive holes in this story and typos/grammatical errors, I didn't have time to write this properly, maybe, if time allows, I'll submit a proper anti-propaganda in the future.

Anyways, in conclusion, don't vote for her, she was a horrible person and rotten to the core.

Thank you.

.

[loveydoveylex]

10, 16 and 20 for the end of the year asks !! :]]

hiii buck, thank you for the ask! hope you've had a nice week ^v^

10: have you bought any merch of your F/O or other items that remind you of them this year?

I have!!! my plushie, my lil goth rayman figure who I got from a kind friend of mine who didn't want him anymore, and I'm waiting on my youtooz figure to arrive! 💖 was hoping to also get a couple more things, but right now I need to calm down with spending a ton of money at once, so it'll have to wait until next year 😅

16: did you pick up a new piece of media because of an F/O this year?

nope! only have one f/o, and... yeah, I was already very invested in the rayman franchise haha. (I've gotten some crushes, sure! but they were all old crushes of mine that resurfaced for a bit, so I also already liked their source media.)

20: are there any hopes and wishes you have regarding your own selfships and/or the selfship community as a whole for the coming year?

hmmmmm... good question! uhhhh, I dunno. I guess I just hope for us all to continue being kind to one another. <3 and maybe for some people in the community to show a little bit more sympathy to those of us who are uncomfortable sharing and take our relationships a bit more seriously, because I am tired of looking through the selfship tag and getting hit in the face with being called mentally ill or whatever lol.

[turtlemagnum]

remember when cyberpunk 2077 came out, i played it with steam family share from my (at the time) girlfriend's account. beforehand, i had gotten a GPU for christmas, an AMD RX570 4GB that i managed to talk my mom into buying me since it was on sale/used for about 100 bucks. turned out, the shitty prebuild desktop i had been using didn't even have a slot for a GPU, much less the physical clearance or a strong enough power supply. i told my dad, and since this was around 2020 he had just gotten a stimulus check. he had claimed me on it and got more money, even though he didn't have custody of me. my mom was pissed, but made the mistake of saying that it "would've been spent on me anyways", so i told him that and thus was born my current PC. he spent the entire goddamn stimulus check on it, including the mouse, keyboard, and screen. my mom was pissed, i didn't care because i wasn't living with her anymore and i had this baller new PC. the bottleneck, was, of course, the budget oriented GPU that i myself provided. i remember, a little while before he even told me he had built the damn thing, i saw a video where a guy did benchmarks on a PC with 32 gigabytes of RAM, and i thought to myself "wow, why would anybody need that much". as my mentioning of this implies, the PC had 32 gigs of RAM, and frankly i appreciate it purely because of how many browser tabs i have open at any given time. anyways, cyberpunk 2077, i forget what the recommended specs were at around that time, but looking at it now it says an RX580 as a bare minimum. that sounds about right, because i vaguely remember thinking something to the effect of "well, mine's only slightly weaker, should be fine! :)". well, it technically ran. i hit 30 FPS looking at a blank wall, and that was if i was lucky, but i definitely got used to the choppy 10-20 after a while. was still fun. i remember there being a hell of a lot of ludonarrative dissonance, what with the whole story being "you're a dead man walking, you're a weak link in a big scary world, you're sooo soso powerless in all of this", meanwhile i broke the difficulty with relatively little effort and was able to smack basically everyone with a baseball bat and kill em in one shot. one of the more fun broken aspects of the game was this glitch, i think it was called the khop. you know how in botw speedruns, if you use bullet time before bouncing off of an enemy and resume time, it sends you flying like a goddamn rocket? and it's because the momentum being applied in the slowed time gets sped up, so when time starts moving normally the speed is just multiplied. it was a bit like that, except it was a lot easier because slowing time could be done just by pressing a direction twice, and instead of requiring an enemy you just crouchspam and now you're flying like superman. was honest to god one of the funnest unintentional movement mechanics in a game i've ever used, rocket jumping couldn't even compare. again, really added to the whole disempowerment narrative the game was going for just not working

[write-helluva-messy-boss]

this came to my head recently:

Fizzarolli as a disgruntled cashier

Some Karen pisses him off. Not difficult to do since he's already in a job he hates. But of course he's the most sarcastic asshole you'll ever meet if you annoy him at his horrible job.

She's been hounding and nagging at him since she got here. Wouldn't leave him alone, expected him to do everything she wanted. She even called him a freeloader. Hell didn't offer bonuses, but they should have with customers like these.

And now, she was pissed he was her cashier. And that he wasn't going fast enough. It wasn't his fault she decided to get three-million things, all of which apparently were beneath her standards anyway.

And then, she said it. Annoyance on her face, looking at his arms. "They really will hire any crippled retard off the street now, won't they? Can you even hear me? I've got places to be and I don't want to smell like knock-off perfume."

He stares her dead in the face, eyes narrow. He's tired. It's right before close. Her ridiculously huge order is clogging up the conveyer, and of course, the line behind her is a mile long.

In one swift motion, Fizz extends his arm. It wraps completely around her pile of groceries. He slides it all in one big heap, over the scanner and into the bagging area. His machine beeps once, satisfied. All her groceries overflow from one plastic bag and tumble all over the floor, fruits rolling, bottles colliding with each other, boxes denting, meats and cheeses splatting.

The woman is so flabbergasted she can't even speak. Fizz shrugs.

"Oops."

Then his eyes return to the charge screen. "Six-hundred fourteen (614) dollars and eighty-two (82) cents."

Fizz's banal declaration seems to snap her out of her silence, but her voice is still hoarse, her mind blankly processing the mess rolling at her feet.

"That's not what it—"

Fizz talks over her, his teeth starting to bare. "Eight-hundred ninety eight (898) dollars and thirty-five (35) cents."

"You can't just make—"

"A thousand (1000) fucking dollars!"

By now, the checkout lane manager has heard the commotion. He's coming over. The woman is getting red in the face, almost hysterical.

"You're—!" She starts screaming profanities at him. Countless slurs.

"Twenty (20) grand!" Fizz snaps over her. "A hundred (100) grand!" Oh, he could play this game all day. His manager is trying to talk over him, pull him away, get between them. It's not fazing anybody.

"How about a million fucking dollars, you cunt?" he asks, clawing into the keyboard.

Everyone in the vicinity gasps, and the woman shrieks in anger. Fizz's arms launch to the computer where he keymashes numbers. By now, several employees have been enlisted to drag Fizzarolli away from the counter. He continues pounding on the keyboard, even as they yank at his arms. He's overextending them just to stay put.

"A trillion bucks for groceries, you whore! See how you like that shit, huh? You gonna pay for it? Pay for my disability? Keep up my useless citizen pity pay?"

She starts whacking his computer with her purse, aiming for his hands, his face, anywhere. And he, of course, starts clawing at her back, until the tug of war finally breaks him away. The manager and crowd of employees (and now bystanders) drags him away. Applause and cheering erupts from the crowd.

"Shut the fuck up, you pompous fucking cowards," Fizz bellows at them, dragged by his feet, face down across the laminate flooring of the grocer, still clenching fistfuls of fabric and electronics. One of them throws money at him. A perfectly wadded twenty-dollar bill lands in front of his face on the white, stained floor, and he watches it retreat away from him as the crowd pulls him back into a swinging door. Only then does he realize that maybe some of them were on his side.

They toss him on the ground behind a chain link fence in the stock room. The manager appears, panting, eyebrows furrowed.

"You're fired," he declares angrily before leaving once again, likely to go back to comforting that arrogant bitch. The crowd disperses, some customers spitting at Fizz's feet.

Fizz sits up, his body hurting. The world is slowing down finally, and feeling is rushing back into his core. His shoulders and ribs ache. He looks down into his hands.

Part of the keyboard is in one hand, keys falling off their spots as he releases his grip. In the other hand, there's ripped pleather. And a wallet.

He opens it up.

Credit cards. Cash. Tons of cash. The ID card matches that damn Karen.

There's his bonus.

[maximuswolf]

The intentionally confusing world of laptop GPUs.

The intentionally confusing world of laptop GPUs. Like most ppl, I don't have every GPU's capability memorized. I also am unaware of how any given chip will perform at any given TDP. Which makes it awfully difficult to purchase something at the level that I need, and no more, to save money. This is clearly an intentional action by all the major players. Naming chips the same as desktops, not disclosing TDP to the chip in a clear and straight forward manner, changing naming schemes every few gens, these are all anti-consumer actions that increase their sales of higher end options and screw the customer into paying more for what they don't need just to ensure they get what they do need. Clearly, none of the big tech companies is going to change their behavior. They have the market cornered, can limit production to increase pricing, and clearly have no further concern than their bottom line. So I think someone independent but in the arena should handle this for them. Someone like steam. I see all the reviewers talking about the demands of certain games, and how some chips can handle a game at low TDP because it is "light weight". Or how some games are "more CPU bound". Or any other gaming euphemism that gets tossed around in game review and laptop reviews. How exactly is the average consumer (who is a casual gamer remember) supposed to know what any of this means. More importantly, how do they know this info about a game prior to purchase?I don't think it would take that much for Steam to make a chart showing the performance of each chip at each TDP that is available for purchase in mainstream laptops for the last 5 gens of GPU. Then this table could be sectioned off into 10% sections (or even 5% sections) to show which chips will perform at expected level in each section. In this way, every chip with its individual TDP could at least be approximated to give the user an idea of its performance. Each game would then get a rating of 1-10 (or 1-20 if you use 5% sections) to give the customer at a glance the info they need to make an informed decision. This could be displayed right on the game page in the store. So you would know, my laptop is in tier 8 so I could only comfortable play games with an 8 rating or lower. The standards for the rating could be something like able to play at at least 60 fps, 1080p, high settings or whatever arbitrary settings you want. Currently I am still using a 2020 Zephyrus G14 with a 2060 max q. I would assume this would probably rate like 6-7 on this scale (pure guess). I was looking at the PX13 with the 4050 @ 95w. I have absolutely no idea if this would be an upgrade, lateral move, or downgrade from what I currently have. It is 2 gens newer so I assume it is better. But it is also a 4050 where my current is a 2060, so that seems like a step backwards. But again, the Max Q is underpowered by a lot. Even though the 4050 can take more juice, it gets 95W (though it is diminishing returns after 100w from what I have seen with 40 series chips. They both have equal VRAM. In the end I assume it is a slight upgrade, but I don't really know. And honestly, is it worth the cash for only like a 10% boost 4 years later?The whole gaming landscape is already extremely anti-consumer. Companies like Steam have shown in the past that they will buck that trend and work with customers or do things clearly to their benefit unlike so many other gaming companies. I think this would go pretty far in allowing users to make informed decision when it comes to purchasing games or new hardware. tldr: Laptop GPUs should be tested and ranked, data compiled into a chart, and given ratings 1-10 to show general GPU capability. This could then be used to inform purchases of games, or purchases of laptops with specific games playability in mind. Sorry for the rant. Didn't mean for it to become this long lol. Submitted December 12, 2024 at 03:08AM by Jebusfreek666 https://ift.tt/wIzhSbZ via /r/gaming

[the-firebird69]

There's a whole lot of people buying these roll up beds. And they're doing it here and soon globally it's a great idea and if you're in an apartment that's small you really can't get the box spring in there and these mattresses that they sell you can use them on the system but the ones he has is supposedly designed for it and he says this one the strings are on the bottom and it doesn't have that layer and it said it had and we looked and it doesn't and kind of sucks but it'll work just the same it's it's working he says but then springs in the bottom are tied together and mostly on a regular mattress or not so that's good he says and really that layer is what they show but it's tied together with using it and he didn't know that. So it works that way so a lot of people figured out the regular mattresses don't work that good in these platforms yet end up putting like a whole piece of wood and then it's a waste of time and the box spring has this piece of wood like every 3 in and they're three inches wide and you can do that and a lot of them do that they just get a bunch of wood and it's really a way to save money but they're getting the mattress in there is a hassle mostly they use full size not Queen they noticed that he got a queen and said it's not really that big but I need it or my feet hang off the end and a lot of them get big and small and it's such a pain and he says so when you're at your house you have to get small and people get mad when he says it but it's true so they're buying these things that's one thing it's very huge right now in Florida and where these guys go and people are watching and they see how it does and just see what they're doing usually leave the wrapper on and it would have been okay to do that but didn't say to you it actually said to take it off so you follow the instructions and he did it works by the way it just takes longer if you take the wrapper off but he didn't really care cuz he's going for 3 days either way well tons of people are going to buy it tons it's a huge product now he said it too you can go up to the regular flat in New York I usually they're not real small inside and he said they're small but they're not but the doors are and the way up there is this weird staircase or a small elevator most of them don't have freight elevators which is stupid cuz you have to get furniture in and he says RTA and it's true a lot of people do it and even with nice stuff so you can't get the expensive stuff in there for the most part people had small beds and small bureaus in New York and several people in the room so now they can bring a queen bed in and put it together in a few hours and they let it sit for a while and they're buying Brian's air mattress because 20 bucks can sleep the whole family and he's making a lot of money and he's grateful for what our son can do and showed it a little and he wants him to have a motorcycle and a sun says it's too big and he says wow and he says top speeds fast it's a lot faster than he said it's yeah probably close to 400 miles an hour and it hauls ass out there too and he said it too real surprise but we have some things to announce but that's what it's like here and I have to go through it everyday very detailed way and I want people to know and what he says he's very happy with the mattress and grateful because his feet are not dangling anJen is angry and that she's angry again his mom's bed and he had a problem and also the mattress in Franklin Massachusetts and he had it in a couple places and it got old and he was in this hole in the mattress he just kept it he didn't have any extra money and people are mad about it and say what are you mad at you idiots the only tons of money already and they couldn't figure it out it's so stupid the pseudo Empire is dumb too mac daddy is not but boy they're stupid they can't figure it out so now they're going to have a war and get rid of each other and they'll figure it out and that's going on and I'm going to make some major announcements coming up

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Ok so here's some insider info. I worked for Five Below before the pandemic, and just into it becoming "Five Beyond" (ironically based on the appearance, I'm pretty sure it's this exact one).

Five Below is good for candy, and things you need in a pinch. But that's literally all. DO NOT EXPECT YOUR ITEMS FROM THIS STORE TO LAST MORE THAN A DAY OR TWO!!!!

Do not shop at this place for any reason unless you truly absolutely have to!!!! The chargers and phone cases break within an hour of purchase oftentimes, the headphones and earbuds outright just don't work more often than they do, the collectibles they get are the ones that other stores can't sell and Five Below tries to get a bang for their buck selling those 2 variants of a blind box and nothing else.

The customers... I'm going to give it to you guys straight. The customers were the fucking WORST here out of any job I've ever worked in my life. They came in just to pick up a ton of items they didn't want, and throw them in places they didn't belong, then walked out without buying a damn thing. If they made it to the register, they'd always come up and leave behind over half their cart saying they didn't want this or that or... anything but this one item.

I had a family come in once, and their little son gently bapped his head on the pole in the center of the store, which held up the entire ceiling. His parents came to my boss and started DEMANDING to file a lawsuit, and get that pole removed at once because her kid was concussed.

I was asked to go collect carts one day, and as I did just that, a couple pulled into the spot in front of me, rushed out of their car, and began screaming at me that I'd hit their car with the cart I was grabbing. They threatened to call the police, and pointed out a spot on the car where they claimed there was a dent and a scratch, but I have beyond 20/20 vision according to multiple eye doctors who have tested me over the years, to the point my vision has been compared to that of robots. There were no scratches or dents whatsoever on that car.

Half the people who come into Five Below are high off their asses, and mock the coworkers, shout on the phone, and so on.

One dude came into the store to do a return, and he appeared to have a mental disability of some sort. I'd know, I'm autistic myself and selectively mute. But the moment he was done, the dude got outside and called his wife, perking up like nothing ever happened at all, and said he'd scammed the store into doing a return, communicating completely neurotypically and behaving as such the entire time as well. He literally faked disability to try throwing us workers off by changing his story twenty times on how the item broke and he lost the receipt, just for us to cave and give him his money back.

There were people who would come to us with things from 2 years ago that just broke today, and demanded their money back.

But in general, this corporation sucks as a whole. They destroy a TON of product just because it's out of season. My boss had me literally take a knife to over 100 dresses and blouses one shift for this exact reason. She did the same to many tee shirts and pants throughout our time working there.

Five Below REFUSES to give raises to any employees. If you work there, and you've been there for several years, you're still getting paid as much as that person who just got hired yesterday. Managers barely make any more than that. It doesn't matter how many years pass with you employed, the only reason you'll get paid more is if your state's minimum wage goes up, therefore requiring the company to pay more.

Corporate does random walk-ins without warning constantly. And I mean like multiple times a week. The people disguise themselves as customers, and check out the stock to see if it's immaculate, the workers to see if they're sticking to the script of let go and have fun, and that they're saying something like "Have a fun day!" after every customer leaves. Because this is so common, customers often come by and say they're part of corporate, and they demand something unreasonable, but no workers can tell if they're legit or not, so they learn to become wary of official corporate in general.

Overall, Five Below is shit in every way. It's good for if you're traveling and need something right away to last you the ride home. But that's it. They're unethical, the frequent customers are no better, and the resellers who buy items in bulk just hock up the prices online for people in other countries outside the USA with good-looking products that are actually shit quality in all possible ways. Do NOT buy from Five Below, do not work for them, do not buy from resellers.

[hide-away-wally]

You know, tumblr is still kind of good, actually. I suppose if you consider what became of twitter, the bar is quite low, but it's too bad that long form blogging started to be seen as "passé" at some point in the not too distant past.

I vaguely remember when the format was still quite relevant. I had one when I was in college. It was a WordPress site. It started as a free one, the sort that was hosted on the WP servers, but I eventually got all weird and entrepreneurial, what with trying to start up a literary magazine from scratch and so on, so I discovered how web hosting worked, and learned web design, and eventually had my own custom Wordpress installation hosted on a shared server.

I honestly kept that same host for two decades, which makes me feel sad and old. I've been running out of money, and possibly time, and I didn't renew the subscription this month. I just couldn't. My custom email address, the email address I'd been using for those same two decades, is dead now, but it occurred to me that I never got emails I was genuinely interested in anymore. It was just there for password retrieval, spam, and random notifications from various corporate entities. I don't mourn my websites and such, but it's obviously a problem to have the email down for too long. So I caved ... though I didn't renew the same host. I started paying them 8 bucks a month way back when, and I didn't even notice how it gradually became over 20. I shopped around, and found something that was 12 bucks for the YEAR. Now, that's only the first year, but I don't give a fuck, a deal's a deal. That's a huge saving. Anyway, the problem is that my domain names are hosted elsewhere, and I forgot the password ... and the email the domain registrar has on file to sent reset links and such is the DEAD email address. So fuck me, I guess. I've reached out to them and sent them my ID and all that garbage, so hopefully their "ownership" department can sort this little Catch-22 out eventually...Serves me right. But I digress. Nobody read the blog I used to publish back in college, of course. Same as this one. What in this case is largely by design, back then was a source of anxiety for me. Harper and I are both artists, or were. And I began to realize just how much our civilization despises artists fairly early on. It only tolerates us when we generate capital, specifically for the benefit of non-artists. So at the time, I was quite afraid of what obscurity and failure would do to me. Rightly so, of course. It did everything I was afraid of, and so much more. I remember coming down to the front desk to consult with an acquaintance who was working the night shift there, picking her brain about all the blog stuff, how to actually build an audience and so on. She gave me all sorts of advice, bless her, but I just couldn't properly understand or apply it. Something about tecnorati, and some other website that was kind of like reddit but not quite, and aggregators, and maybe actual reddit? I was asking her specifically because she had a semi "successful" blog at the time. I can't remember what it was about. Something to do with nature, maybe? Hiking? Fishing? I don't know.

Come to think of it, I can't remember what mine was about either ... Which is only striking me as a bit odd. It was probably garbage, to be fair. I am sure that's the reason. It couldn't have been much good if even its actual author can't recall. If I had to guess, it was basically just like this ... a lot of ramblings and digressions, except now there's at least a nominal "focus" ... kind of.

I probably haven't changed or grown all that much ... For much of your life, you look back on your younger self, and you often think "wow, I was one silly and goofy piece of jello back then, and I am so glad I grew out of that phase." At some point that seems to have changed for me. I begin to realize that the old me was never a terrible person by any stretch, even if I was a bit cringe and made mistakes and all that, but I felt like a terrible person, all the damn time, especially when I was depressed. And I still feel exactly the same way now, like a terrible person. Except I can tell the old me wasn't that. They were just naive and innocent and still had hope.

Depression is one hell of a killer, you know. Over the past few decades, people seem to have made it out to be the "acceptable" mental illness, or a "universal" one. Depression and anxiety are used as the butt of self deprecating jokes by people who don't actually understand what they are. PTSD is another one. People think that watching a scary movie or weird commercial qualifies as "childhood trauma." Oh, honey, that's sweet. That's precious. I've got OCD too ... people still think it means you're meticulous or like a clean room or some shit. The reality is so much worse. The constant intrusive thoughts. INTRUSIVE thoughts, not impulsive ones. It's not a compulsion to say or do something goofy for your friends to laugh at. It's vivid images of people you love being slowly tortured and cut open by indistinct perpetrators, so violent and horrid that you WINCE, at least once an hour, its detailed worst case scenarios, atomic bombs, home invasions, gruesome accidents, running through your head multiple times a day, so immersive that you have to shake and shake and shake till you can push it loose. I've got all the good "acceptable" ones. The so called "treatable" ones. The ones it's supposedly okay to talk about, except it really, really isn't. It really, really isn't. Harper had 'em too. Harper was the only friend I had who actually got it. The rest have gone away. I am left in the underworld all alone. Fuck em.

Depression is one hell of a killer. Real trauma is one hell of a killer. There is no healing. I know that now. No recovery. There are occasional remissions and relapses, and then there's death. Fuck, what was I talking about. Eh. Clearly, I am not well.

[faction-art]

words & Image credit : Eksovichea Tito Hak

Free or inexpensive DJ gear to get the job done... its definitely come a long way since I last checked

It's crazy, I haven't looked into DJ equipment for over 10 years since I exclusively started delving into music production back then, but I was at a place where all my records were stored ('were' being the operative word, since I couldn't find a single piece of vinyl anywhere having spent thousands of dollars on records back then, where I would near ritualistically blow near 80% of my wage on records alone on a monthly basis. Although my two technics turntables were still there, and intact, my backup 4Channel digital hybrid analogue/fully midi assignable Korg Zero4 midi controller was nowhere to be found. In that failed attempt at setting up my DJ rig last night for not being able to find anything, I thought I might as well see where its currently at on the digital front.

Ableton Live

Seems obvious, I used to use it all the time for DJing experimentally after my long foray into using vinyl emulation. Everything else to my mind is just a speed bump as far as DJ equipment is concerned, even CDJ's. The only problem with using Ableton Live though is that you pretty much have to set up a DJ setup work session project within Ableton Live, which can take hours of prep depending how many tunes you want to use (that all need gridding), and what your setup is going to be. It's not simply a case dropping in nay tunes in as you go along. It's not the most affordable option, and would require that you already have Ableton Live (unless you have the pirated version of course). The Ableton Live lite version usually comes free with music hardware, or can be acquired for as little as 20 bucks legit, but it does lack the audio clip manipulation, mix, and remix features that come with the standard, or suite versions of Ableton Live.

Pacemaker DJ device

It's in a box, in pieces. It doesn't work, and was kaput years ago. I didn't want to spend the money on buying another one, especially with having a laptop at my disposal. Surely there must be some laptop software alternatives?

Pioneer WeDJ

In its current form, it's everything that the Tonium Pacemaker DJ device/DJ app should have become on a mobile device for both Android, and iOS. However I don't have a mono headphone monitor, and line out cable splitter on hand, nor could I be bothered ordering one, although I do have one somewhere that I can't find that I bought for the Blackberry Playbook (also now kaput) many years ago. If you have one of Pioneers controllers you can obviously use WeDJ with that instead, which should then give you both stereo pre-mix monitoring, and stereo line outputs to your amp. Pioneer's WeDJ app is completely free to download and use for both Android, and iOS, and is essentially a fully functional DJ app that doesn't require any sort of ongoing subscription for full functionality in order to DJ your music collection.

Native Instruments Traktor DJ 2

Useful if you've got a laptop or a MacBook Pro, and in its most current form is completely free as a fully featured, and highly polished DJ app that functions perfectly for purpose. It's actually shocking how much they actually give you to work with here given that its 100% free from a main competitor commercial brand, but then again with the likes of the open source MIXX DJ app projects giving you way more fully pro features (even a stack of things that many will never even get to using) than this for completely free, I guess they didn't have much of a choice. Although native instruments do have a Pro version of the Traktor DJ app that does come at a premium, which comes with more features than most people would ever even use.

If you don't have a touchscreen to use with it

You'll definitely need an assignable midi controller of some sort to use with it, as well as an audio interface of your own that has a separate set lines for stereo pre-mix monitoring, and stereo line outputs to your chosen amp. Then again, I'm guessing Native Instruments would probably most likely prefer you use one of their midi controllers with it which pretty much gives you a one to one layout. Depending on which you get, there's one with a built in audio interface (which will give you the stereo pre-mix monitor headphones outputs, and separate stereo line outputs you'd more ideally need integrated directly into the midi controller), and one without, but if you were to buy one used from places like eBay, they could be acquired pretty inexpensively for anything between 70 to 150 bucks.

If you have a touchscreen on your laptop

This is probably the ideal, as this gives you the options to 'needle drop', and track scrub via the touch screen, as well as use the controls via the interface, although the GUI controls for the EQ, and pitch within the windows version of Traktor DJ 2 software isn't ideally optimised for touch interactions like it is on the iPad version, but the ability to competently needle drop, and track scrub via the touchscreen, combined with a one of their midi controllers, and an appropriate audio interface would be a killer combination. Something like the Behringer U-Control 222 is great quality as far as its audio is concerned, and can be acquired for around 25 bucks new, However, that won't give you independent headphone pre-mix monitoring, and separate stereo line output compatibility despite the U-Control 222 being equipped with it, where they've most probably rigged it in a way where it Traktor DJ 2 app will only function fully in such a way with one of their own Native Instruments audio interfaces.

MIXX

This has everything that you can find in all the commercial premium DJ application (and more), with compatibility for multiple different vinyl timecode DVS standards too from the numerous different manufacturer brands if you're a vinyl emulation junkie. They've vastly improved the default GUI skin too, that makes it look WAY more professional, and slicker looking than it used to, where it wouldn't look too out of place on a laptop sat next to another laptop maybe running Ableton live on it as part of some sort of sync setup. However, if you're fortunate to have a touchscreen on your laptop, you're a little out of luck here, as it's not really touchscreen interaction friendly optimised, for a fair number of the core control buttons being too small and fiddly on the screen to actually use touchscreen interactions with, so you'll definitely need to have suitable midi controller to assign controls to for this one if you don't want to be stuck using mouse click interactions. Its 100% free to download, and use. It's also the only fully featured DJ app that has a fully functional version for various different builds of Linux too, as well as windows, and MacOS.

RemixLive

It's technically not a DJ app, and if you want to do some fancy stuff with it, it can potentially become quite expensive in order to unlock all its features, but it essentially takes the live remix, and sample based line of approach that Ableton Live can optionally be used for beyond pure music production, and gives it to you within a highly polished, and easy to use touchscreen based application. It's also been created in such a way that you can also use it as a drum machine step sequencer too. You can do some decent stuff with the free features, but if you want to unlock its full potential as an app, you'll have to fork over a fair amount of dough. The app itself is available for both Android, and iOS.

It looks like something from the creators of an app that was originally made for the Novation Launchpad midi controller as a freebie, but greatly further elaborated on, as a separate commercial software product.

There's a lot of potential here…

Using it reminds me of how one might use Ableton Live for stem clip, audio sample based loop music production, but delivered within a very touch based centric package. It's been many years since I last checked it out, and it's certainly come a long way from those plaything like beginnings.

If anything having played with it briefly for a couple of hours earlier this morning via an Android device, with a little more refinement (that’s not to say that it's not actually come a long way since I last briefly looked at it many years ago), it could actually seriously be a much better replacement for the kind of defunct and very expensive Native Instrument stem clip based live remix, and creation controllers, that allows more direct control. It even has full Ableton link sync capabilities within the Android version too. Maybe this was the missing part of development that could have somehow been integrated, and used with something like the stem based Traktor controllers for potential greater success as a product that would have made it less cumbersome in order to simply get things cooking on the fly in a way that's actually fun, and enjoyable without feeling like a chore to get a dancefloor rocking that doesn't require hours, days, or weeks of prep beforehand?

There's a VERY limited selection of free stem packs for it, with the prices for the numerous premium stem packs being very much in line of a chart release track that you might find on Beatport. It's possible to create your own custom combination packs from the packs that you've bought, as well as import your own sample clips too, but they don't make this process as intuitive, or as quick as it could potentially be, as it might be with using something like Ableton Live, or FL-studio mobile for the purposes of creating your own, and using them for quickly putting together a tune off the cuff.

It seems to lack the ability to easily save projects as a separate file save state at any given point which was a little jarring, meaning you need to remember set it up as anew project at the start with its own file name, because if you don't and simply mess with it to come up with something you actually want to save, there's no obvious way to save it that I've found yet.

Touch OSC

If you're a bit strapped for cash, or just simply don't have the space, or need a much more portable fully customisable solution, the traditional midi controller might not be what you're looking for, and particularly if you're limited to android for budget reasons, touch OSC is your friend.

I first came across something like this many years ago, however, back then it was sort of new coming off something called the Jazz Mutant midi controller, which was a dedicated fully customisable midi control surface device, which back then, used to cost a few thousand dollars for the Jazz Mutant control surface device.

However, a few years later, Lemur (the makers of the Jazz mutant) eventually released an iOS app that essentially allowed you to do the same thing with an iPad. I actually got the iPad app, and used it with a hand me down iPad 2 (some time way after the iPad air had been released), and to all intents and purposes it was great, as it did exactly what it said it would do on the tin. I haven't used it since though, nor did I get a replacement iPad after it broke for that specific purpose, since iPads have gotten vastly more expensive where they cost more than a decent laptop these days, and the Lemur app was exclusive to iOS. I never bothered looking into Android solutions, and I do recall seeing touch OSC for android a while back in its very early stages when it was far less user friendly, and limited in features, and wasn't anything like it is today. How is Touch OSC today? The way the application has evolved for Android? It's almost identical to Lemurs Jazz mutant app port to the iPad, with barely any difference. It's perfect for function, and purpose in being incredibly versatile in a DaftPunk wet dream on the command deck of the starship Enterprise kind of way, as it delivers fully customisable midi control surfaces at your fingertips if you have an available Android tablet or smartphone to use it with in conjunction with your chosen DJ software on a MacOS or Windows machine. It's not free, but for such extensive, and powerful features fully unlocked, 12 quid isn't a lot to pay once, and be able to use it as you please for life, for many things, such as any DAW, or DJ app that supports midi. Even if you're using ZeroBug's excellent Touchable Pro app for Ableton Live, you'll still definitely find Touch OSC useful too if you don't want to be moving through layers as often, and have way more room with Touchable for specific control layers always on hand, particularly if you're using VST instruments, synths, and drum machines that are midi control assignable with Ableton Live, but don't have midi control support within Touchable Live pro.

Another sophisticatedly advance multi-tool like feature to add to your smartphone, and or tablet if you often use midi control, that most people would take for granted without knowing of its development, and how its vastly surpassed the capabilities, and versatility of its original high cost premium priced variants…

I suppose this gives you even more incentive to hold onto your old smartphone devices to possibly repurpose them as fully customisable advance modular midi/OSC touch control interface surfaces for your various plugins, and effects modules within your DAW and/DJ software. Obviously beyond midi, as its name suggests, it's all about the OSC, meaning you can also make custom controls for many other things besides DAW, or Video editing software (e.g. national grid powerplant control rooms, etc). Touch OSC running on your Galaxy Tab A7, Tab A8, Tab S6, Tab S7 or iPad 2/3/4 and above via Lemurs original app, whether wired, or more fancy, wirelessly too, it actually provides you with way more advanced features, and capabilities than the original Jazz Mutant controller in a vastly more portable compact device. Even if you had something like an LG V50. V50S, or V60, you'd also be able to plug them into an external touchscreen monitor, and use Touch OSC via the 12/13/14/15 inch touchscreen beyond using it on the actual smartphone device too. You'll probably also find touch OSC very useful to use with MIXX too.

Native Instruments free 'Native Access' apps

'Native Access' is basically their equivalent of the steam app management client, but for all their Native Instruments apps instead. There's mainly premium apps there, but there a number of high quality free apps there too, from synths, instruments, and plugins which you can use as standalone via a midi controller/keyboard, or as a VST plugin for you chosen DAW. Simply do a search for the their free apps on their website.

One app that you won't find there though (although you will need to enter the serial number for it within the Native access client to actually register, and download it after first install the Native Instrument Reaktor 7 player app), is the DP-06+ app, which is basically a faithfully recreated software version of the Roland 606 drum machine that you use like a VST plugin via Reaktor 7. Just head on over to 'Deputi Sounds' where you can buy it for a limited period for the price of $0.00 (you actually have to go through the checkout process to get the activation serial number code for it). I don't know how long the offer is on for, but the temporary offer rolled out yesterday.

[talisidekick]

"Okay, so you're saying your luck is ... neutral?" The patron looked confused, in front of the stranger a line of coins standing on their sides.

"Yeah. Heads or tails?"

"Uh, tails."

The coin is flicked high into the air and falls hard, right on it's edge to the continued amazement of the small gathering around the bar.

"I can't win or lose," it's delivered with a shrug, "basically if I want something, I have to work for it, but if it's up to chance I won't get what I want or lose what was risked. It's just ... neutral."

"Prove it, but not with coins," says one.

The stranger sighs, "Fifty bucks on the next goal being for the home team," the stranger points to the live game.

"Deal."

And just as if it was by some estranged divine intervention, the entire game goes by without another goal getting scored. Even though the home team clearly had the advantage in skill, every attempt, by fluke, missed, or was intercepted.

"Told you."

"That proves nothing."

"Hows this," the stranger, clearly tired, offers dully, "I'll bet my entire lifes savings that I can't give you the winning lottery numbers for the 50 million jackpot."

"Wait, so you'll just give me everything you have if you can't give me the winning numbers?"

"Yep."

"Deal."

"Buy the ticket. The numbers are 12, 11, 59, 9, 22, and ... 71," The stranger sighs, watching the numbers get written down, "enjoy your 50 million."

"Yeah, right," and with that they left. It would be the next day before they came back. 50 million in the bank, with the stranger long gone. The bartender, equally amazed as they handed over the strangers phone number. The line rang once.

"50 million, right?" came the strangers voice.

"How did-"

"It's how it works."

"You have to let me give you half." says the now-millionaire.

A laugh from the phone, "that's not how it works."

"What?"

That same depressed sigh from the night before, "as soon as I say yes, you'll lose it all to tax fraud, or it'll get stolen, or the economy will crash, or ... something."

"This been happening your whole life?" The millionaire asked.

"All 600 years of it."

"What?" the bartender asked, hearing this but not believing it.

"I made a bet, when I was 15 that I'd age well or terribly. I don't age. I made a bet in my 20's I'd die of illness before old age. I don't grow old and I don't get sick." A pause and a breath. "I bet I'd probably die of an accident before natural causes to a friend. I also recently hit a low and bet I'd die by my own hand or someone elses. I made a bet I could forget anything being that I was forgetful, and the person I bet to agreed to just give me a bit of money ... I now don't forget a thing. I bet I was either the dumbest person alive, and I think you know where this is going."

"So ... you're an incredibly average immortal human being who has neutral luck. You know, you played your cards well. If I had luck like that I'd ..." the millionaire began.

"You don't understand, I didn't want to live forever, I didn't want to be forever youthful, I didn't want to be intelligent, any of it. I made a bet and the tie condition has made me this way. I can't win, I can't lose. I can't make a bet over it. I am stuck in a no lose, no win situation permanently." A heavy sigh. "I made stupid bets that 560 years later, I regret. But I can't change that. I didn't know this is how it worked, I found out too late. So do yourself a favour, take the money, live a good life, be a good person, and forget me."

"You're the reason my life is turned around, I think forgetting a woman like you is impossible," the millionaire laughs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Heads you remember me after this call only on even days, tails only on odd days." A pause. "On the side like usual."

"Wait-" the millionaire yelled, but the call hung up. A look of dread on the millionaires face as he looked over the bartender. "I need to remember who that was, it's ... it's important ... I think?"

And the saddest look in the world was given from the bartender to the millionaire, "I don't think you will, buddy."

Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You’re not lucky, you’re not unlucky, you’re… something else.