#its a loan scam

[haonqq]

Would anyone like to total my car so my bank will pay out like 8k instead of the lucky to get 2k that im at-

[yellowistheraddest]

guess who payed for their first semester of dorm rent and now has less than double digits in their bank account even though they literally just had a job for 2 months

[dhampir-dyke]

.

[tipytap]

hot women named Scam Likely keep calling me 🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘

[kissmehardy]

Credit scores frustrate me so fucking much

[berriblossom]

->Modern AU, like organized crime Fatui Buisness AU, reader is considered amab, power dynamics, you are his "dog", sugar daddy pantalone, warning for gore, blood, violence, and slight mention of collars, Fatui is a crime syndicate and the Northland bank will always collect what is in fair exchange of debt. DNI: (this is written by masc NB, so don't fetishize this pls, minors pls dni)<-

The empty restaurant with dimmed lights set a "mood" for its guests. Most glamor at the amount of detail on the pantings that hang on the wall. The guests even ignorantly claimed the false portraits to be original. Like these fools have never seen a well organized dinner set either.

"Oh, is that a Doyung Orginal?"

"My look at the engraving on the plates!"

"My goodness the wine is to die for, has to be a Mondstat staple!"

Yes, the quality and attention to detail were incredible, even in the late hours for special guests to come by and have "chats" with the staff. With the owner, head chef, and hostess standing still for him.

For a specifically special guest, he was on his way for a special meeting with the staff. The court of Fontaine never failed to disappoint with the glamor, the fusion of fontainian and Liyuen food, who could have thought? No wonder such elite laywers, officers, prosecutors, senators, and opera house performers eat here to fill their hearts and stomachs till content.

Like filthy pigs.

It sickened him to his stomach.

Pantalone hated the stiffness in the dining hall. The tables were too close together, hence no privacy in the place for actual buisness to be held. No wonder some customers complain of the noise, but then again when cheap dandelion wine is served for all service cycles, you'd get noisy too.

The carpet was tacky, it was crisp crimson with intricate detail, even the most disgusting hardwood floors would've captured the feeling within the place better. His eyes moved around, the small perfectly sculpted gray hairs swept into the neat style of his hair.

His fingers collected in his lap as the pitifully looking waitress took his order. No one was here, all customers were gone. Vacant of even the tacky suites, outdated dresses, and excessive displays of nonexistent money. But when sitting in front of the real deal, who wouldn't get nervous.

The man who owns the Norhtland Bank, the wealthiest and most accredited bank in Teyvat. The man who was a well-decorated politician, salesman, diplomat, and sponsor to some of the biggest brands and stock names in the world. The richest person to have lived in Teyvat sits before the teenager and smiles at her with a carefully crafted smile. A fake one, no less.

But even before the slaughter, the wolf can be kind to any of the sheep for the sake of better taste of their meat.

He sighs as he sips the cool glass of what feels like stale water. The chef stares frantically outside the kitchen window into the dining area. The dusty chandelier looks way more dusty and apparent than usual. The chairs at table 5 look more crooked than normal. All the smallest imperfections seem to be shown right before the finale. Pantalone crosses his leg as he flickes an nonexistent speck of dirt off his perfectly pressed dress pant leg. His black and gray suite complimenting his features, the rounds of his glasses and his gloves.

"What a shame, isn't it?" He says with a small pitiful chuckle to the waitress, as she places the plate of ragu onto the table. The dish looking the cleanest it will ever be. But even from the looks of it, well polished to a uncultured eye. It looks old, the tomatoes aren't fresh, the salt is old snd possible too dry. The onions aren't soft enough and the chew of them could make anyone vomit. The goll to charge over a hundred mora for this is honestly more of a scam than a loan with 14% interest on it in a first year.

Pantalone watches the girl shake her head, then nod. In an almost confused way. "Ah, um..no-no, it is..sir..?" Almost like a test, she feels like its a multiple choice when its actually true or false in his mind.

Sigh, what a shame. This place is a dump, better a landfill than even another department to waste money on. The taxes in this neighborhood are ridiculous anyway. Too close to the Palais Mermonia.

Out of curiosity and just to get it over with, he was always playing the patient role within his organization, but in reality, he wanted to be over with this and now. Pantalone takes a bite of the ragu, and as he thought, too salty, not fresh, and the lettuce is welted. The saliva in his mouth pools, his teeth stick, the assault on his tongue makes him gag silently. He chews slowly and swallows. His mind was made. Screw with polite conversation and then the slaughter. Their best and finale dish said enough, and his mind was made up.

"Excuse me while I make a quick phone call. While I'm outside could you call your manager and the owner of this fine establishment? I'd love to have a conversation with them."

-

Your phone rang while you slept in the hotel Pantalone set up on the outskirts of the court, a decent way to lay low for any job he wanted done during his political tour of the place. Even with the House of the Heart here, sone jobs required more...brutal ways to ease the tensions within the nation of solem waters.

The Fatui despite the reputation they've built for years, as a banking, diplomatic, independent governing body to help local governments and offices to aquire the stystems and supplies needed. Money, political dirt, information, a means to kill, or just power. You want it, someone had it. So even if the harbingers held such, it was too much of a "risk" for they themselves to do all the work. Why not have someone else do it?

Even the most deranged harbingers follow this rule placed by their leaders. Even that popstar Tartaglia, despite him speaking about wanted to lick the blood off a knife after cutting his finger. So it wasn't crazy for you, someone who gets whats done for a notcible price, done to be favored by someone like Pantalone.

So when that call rang through the hotel, you picked it up lazily, tiredness from the stiff and insufferable plane ride beating on your body. Scarred with what many would hope to be the ghosts that haunt your dreams rather than the ghosts of anyones beloveds. But anytime that phone rings, its always the latter.

"Yes?" No need for anything conversation or formalities, despite Pantalone scowling at it. You could hear the night air of the busy street he was on. The sound of the wind, sea air flickering through the reciver. But the sound that makes you highly alert is that wicked chuckle. A small, kind-sounding chuckle. But it's actually a sign of how pissed he is. Doing this job for 7 years teaches you a lot, without a word you stand and get ready to head wherever he wants you to be with a tired sigh.

"So good for a vacation.." you mumble as Pantalone's exhuasted and crafted smile drops. "You're incredibly lucky your the most competent one I've had. So keep the tone in check. Dogs don't bark unless needed remember?"

The warning was in plain sight, even with rose-colored glasses it was a stark sight. Your roll your eyes as he complains about the stupid little dump of a restaurant and how piss poor the quality is. And something about a shitty ragu? You sigh and put on your boots as you finsh getting dressed, half the time you barely catch what hes upset about. But for now its better to pretend.

"Since i can tell you're not listening fully. Get over to this dump within the next 10 minutes. Wear your uniform and don't be late. Be a good dog."

Like always, you always are. So without a word you let him hang up and huff as you tighten the straps to the simple leather harness he had you wear. Gloves, check. Boots, check. And finally a token from Pantalone for his favorite dog...a beautiful reminder that your freedom is imminent.

-

When you arrive(3 minutes early), you stick to the shadows and watch from the corner of the restaurant front house as Pantalone grills the staff on the quality of food. When in reality he could not give a shit for it, but hey? What good is it for a show?

"But gentlemen it truly amazes me how incompetent you are. It's such a shame, that for what...11 years we have donated various amounts to see this place prosper when in reality, the Northland Bank has been wasting millions of mora on a shack like this? Such a deaperate shame."

As soon as his tone became pointed, the change in tone. It was time to move, so you waisted, arms crosses and head turned down as you waited.

"For the Tsarista's sake. You'd think I'd note the amount of money missing from...." it all drowned out for you, you knew how impatient he really was, and his body language hid it, but never the voice. You kick off the wall and walk into the dining area of the restaurant as the owner and manager argue with Pantalone in desperation about how its not a watse.

"No gentlemen, I really think it is. Not to add the amount of money you've embezzled with the small business loans we've given. 5.6 million mora missing from the original 12 million in 11 years? Over 100k a month in sales but yet so little profit made? You must think of my gratitude as useless?"

The owner, sweating like a pig on its way to the slaughter house, held his hands up in disagreement and a final wave to uphole peace. His stuttering pleas, even pitiful and frankly stomach- curling snotty tears all come to a halt when you stand behind him. The manager kneeling on the floor begging for forgiveness of his greed, looks up and sees the thing many who take money up with the Northland Bank fears most.

"Gentlemen, I see you've noticed my dear friend here. You see...-" Pantalone sits on the edge of the table, the staff of thr restaurant stand in the entryway of the kithcen and serving station in fear. Escape is useless, you liked hunting as a sport anways.

"You see, I despise, liars. I really do, and something that makes me just so...displeased is when my hard earned kindess is treated with lies and disrespect. I gave you the money, happy to support a in-need business. Like a basket case chairty...but to see the money, my money. My mora, used like....this?"

Your hand comes to the shoulder of the owner as Pantalones monolog comes to a fateful end. "So...well...theres no need for a second chance...not after your greedy showcase...but i will say....-" He stands and downs the rest of the water in a long and slow sip. "The Northland Bank will send some beautifully picked flowers for your services."

With a snap of his fingers, as he turned his back to the pleading staff and owners, he speaks lowly.

"Sick 'em."

As he leaves, the owner, an elder balding man scrambles to cling onto Pantalones leg, but as he reaches out, the hand on his shoulder, your hand grabs him by the chin, and with a small movement...

crack!

The mans head is shot upward, eyes glazed over and gray as his body is lifeless and limp, jaw clenched permanently as his spine is stilted. A pen kept on your person, stuck in the back of his head to keep it in place as blood drips like honey onto the crimson carpet. The the spray started, like the fountain of Lucine, except instead of a prayer for new life, it was one to cling onto. The pen was shoved until the clicker was sticking out. You let go of his head as his body lumped onto the ground. By the time Pantalone is out of the door, screams of terror, fear, and pure agony ring out as well as the stupid tacky chime of the entrance bell of this dump of a restaurant. With your nonchalant espression as he knows, his dog will handle it.

-

By the next hour when the noise died down, he returns with a expensive cigar, lightening it with a silver lighter. Pantalone enters and sees just the beautiful spread of color. As you packed up and chopped bodies like they were hog meat with the same dull knives used to make any shitty dish within this dump. Blood decorated even the onion colored wallpaper, soaking and staining. He looks down and sees the bodies all in bags, no bullets, meaning your must've used your hands.

When he entered the kitchen to see you chopping the arm of one of the waiters, he notes how uncaring your eyes were. Like this was just another Wednesday to you, your eyes glazed in concentration as you bang the butchers knife into the cutting board to hack the arm away. Veins and coagulted blood splays all around, but in his eyes, it was so beautiful....

And alluring.

He walked closer and tilted your chin to meet his gaze, bringing his nose to your cheek, he inhales the iron sting and copper twang painted on your skin, even if you scrubbed every micro-inch off he could still smell it. With the deep inhale, he smiles against your cheeck as you hold still, almost numb to the exchange. "Yes...good....such....goood...my good boy..." he waits for you to finish, like you were programed to.

"You're only good, boy, sir." You repeat like always back, even if its for money, his obsessed mind games, power, ego stroking, you will always repeat it back. Like a good dog.

He grins as he pressed his lips onto your cheek, almost tryung to dabb it away with a lick, he pulls away and notes. "The mess will be cleaned tomorrow, this place is going to be burned anways, now come, i need my dog for a walk."

-> teehe...can you tell i wrote this at 3 A.M?

[reality-detective]

More Stuff We Already Know... Have patience because EVERYTHING has to be done by the rule of law. It's going by the Book. Justice is Coming...

Bombshell Report: The House COVID Committee Exposes a Pandemic of Lies and Incompetence

Buckle up, America. The House COVID Committee has released its final report after two years of investigation, and it’s a devastating indictment of the pandemic response. From taxpayer-funded lab experiments to unconstitutional lockdowns, catastrophic mismanagement, and outright fraud, this report exposes the truth they didn’t want you to see.

Your Tax Dollars Funded Wuhan’s Gain-of-Function Research

The NIH, under Dr. Anthony Fauci, funded dangerous gain-of-function experiments at the Wuhan Institute of Virology. This wasn’t a conspiracy theory—it’s fact. U.S. taxpayer money helped supercharge viruses through shady grants funneled to Wuhan by EcoHealth Alliance, led by Dr. Peter Daszak.

The report makes it clear: this negligence cannot go unpunished. The Committee calls for permanent bans on EcoHealth Alliance and Daszak from receiving taxpayer funds. Heads must roll.

Constitution Shredded: Lockdowns and Mandates Crossed the Line

During the pandemic, governors and bureaucrats used fear to impose unconstitutional lockdowns and mandates. Americans were stripped of their freedoms, churches were closed, and livelihoods destroyed—all in the name of “safety.”

The report is blunt: this was an authoritarian power grab. The Constitution doesn’t vanish in a crisis. These actions were a betrayal of American values, and we must ensure it never happens again.

COVID’s Origin: Lab Leak No Longer a Theory

After years of lies and suppression, the report confirms what many suspected: COVID-19 likely leaked from the Wuhan lab. The media, Big Tech, and public health officials worked together to smear anyone who questioned the narrative. The truth is out, and it demands justice.

Lockdowns: A Catastrophic Failure

The report eviscerates the decision to impose lockdowns, calling them a disaster. Small businesses were destroyed, mental health crises exploded, and children’s education suffered irreparable damage. The cure was worse than the disease. Never again should such draconian measures be used.

Fraud and Abuse: COVID Relief Stolen

Billions intended for struggling Americans were siphoned off by criminals. The report exposes widespread fraud in relief programs, from unemployment scams to fraudulent business loans. Where’s the accountability? The American people demand justice.

Final Judgment: Never Again

The report sends a clear message: this was a pandemic of lies, incompetence, and corruption. The American people suffered while bureaucrats and grifters thrived. The fight for accountability starts now.

Will you join the battle to ensure this never happens again? 🤔

[invisibleicewands]

Michael Sheen’s extraordinary gesture as he pays off debts of hundreds of people

He plays an angel on screen and he has proven he is an angel in real life by undertaking an extraordinary gesture. In an unprecedented move the actor has used his own money to write off personal debts of hundreds of people in South Wales

It’s been confirmed that Michael, who famously plays angel Aziraphale in Good Omens, has brought light and relief to many families struggling with debt with this wonderful act of benevolence.

The move was not publicly announced by the Port Talbot star, but was uncovered by fans who spotted posts on Facebook in local community groups from a television production company called Full Fat TV.

The posts read: ‘Actor Michael Sheen has been campaigning for a fairer credit system for years and in an extraordinary gesture, he has used his own money to write off personal debts for hundreds of people in South Wales. If you have received a letter from a company called Ten Acquisitions the good news is that Michael has paid off some of your debt and he’d love to hear from you. The details of how to get in touch with him are in the letter.’

Intrigued by the posts which appealed to those who had received letters from a company called Ten Acquisitions confirming that Michael had paid off debts, one fan took to X to ask him directly if the posts were true.

Fans wondered if it was somebody using his name as a scam, but the actor in replies on his X account confirmed the posts were neither clickbait nor a scam.

He wrote: ‘It’s not clickbait. I want to clarify, because we want people to get in touch.’

The campaigning Welshman, a long time advocate for a fairer credit system, has teamed up with the production company to film a documentary about the plight of those struggling due to unfair financing.

On Monday, Michael appeared in Parliament where he joined calls for a fair banking act to tackle the credit crisis affecting people and businesses.

In 2022-2023, more than 9 million were declined for credit, with millions relying on pay-day-lenders and buy-now-pay-later schemes with high interest rates. At its worst, lack of access to affordable credit means hundreds of thousands of people find themselves turning to loan sharks, while viable businesses remain stuck, unable to develop and create jobs. Campaigners are calling for a Fair Banking Act to help ensure that everyone can access essential financial services and support.

Speaking at the event in Parliament on Monday, Michael said: “Anyone can find themselves in a place where they need credit to make ends meet or to get through a difficult time. The lack of affordable credit for people on lower incomes is harming individuals and families, but also businesses and communities. Whole regions are seeing their growth held back. We can’t keep waiting and hoping that things will get better. We need something to change now. The Fair Banking Act could be the thing which really makes the difference”.

"We can’t keep waiting and hoping that things will get better. We need something to change now."@michaelsheen has joined calls for a #FairBankingAct to tackle credit crisis affecting people and businesses.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Intuit: “Our fraud fights racism”

Tonight (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

Today's key concept is "predatory inclusion": "a process wherein lenders and financial actors offer needed services to Black households but on exploitative terms that limit or eliminate their long-term benefits":

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2329496516686620

Perhaps you recall predatory inclusion from the Great Financial Crisis, when predatory subprime mortgages with deceptive teaser rates were foisted on Black homeowners (who were eligible for better mortgages), resulting in a wave of Black home theft in the foreclosure crisis:

https://prospect.org/justice/staggering-loss-black-wealth-due-subprime-scandal-continues-unabated/

Before these loans blew up, they were styled as a means of creating Black intergenerational wealth through housing speculation. They turned out to be a way to suck up Black families' savings before rendering them homeless and forcing them into houses owned by the Wall Street slumlords who bought all the housing stock the Great Financial Crisis put on the market:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/08/wall-street-landlords/#the-new-slumlords

That was just an update on an old con: the "home sale contract," invented by loan-sharks who capitalized on redlining to rip off Black families. Back when banks and the US government colluded to deny mortgages to Black households, sleazy lenders created the "contract loan," which worked like a mortgage, but if you were late on a single payment, the lender could seize and sell your home and not pay you a dime – even if the house was 99% paid for:

https://socialequity.duke.edu/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Plunder-of-Black-Wealth-in-Chicago.pdf

Usurers and con-artists love to style themselves as anti-racists, seeking to "close the racial wealth gap." The payday lending industry – whose triple-digit interest rates trap poor people in revolving debt that they can never pay off – styles itself as a force for racial justice:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/29/planned-obsolescence/#academic-fraud

Payday lenders prey on poor people, and in America, "poor" is often a euphemism for "Black." Payday lenders disproportionately harm Black families:

https://ung.edu/student-money-management-center/money-minute/racial-wealth-gap-payday-loans.php

Payday lenders are just unlicensed banks, who deploy a layer of bullshit to claim that they don't have to play by the rules that bind the rest of the finance sector. This scam is so juicy that it spawned the fintech industry, in which a bunch of unregulated banks sprung up to claim that they were too "innovative" to be regulated:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

When you hear "Fintech," think "unlicensed bank." Fintech turned predatory inclusion into a booming business, recruiting Black spokespeople to claim that being the sucker at the table in the cryptocurrency casino was actually a form of racial justice:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/07/business/media/cryptocurrency-seeks-the-spotlight-with-spike-lees-help.html

But not all predatory inclusion is financial. Take Facebook Basics, Meta's "poor internet for poor people" program. Facebook partnered with telcos in the Global South to rig their internet access. These "zero rating" programs charged subscribers by the byte to reach any service except Facebook and its partners. Facebook claimed that this would "bridge the digital divide," by corralling "the next billion internet users" into using its services.

The fact that this would make "Facebook" synonymous with "the internet" was just an accidental, regrettable side-effect. Naturally, this was bullshit from top to bottom, and the countries where zero-rating was permitted ended up having more expensive wireless broadband than the countries that banned it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/02/countries-zero-rating-have-more-expensive-wireless-broadband-countries-without-it

The predatory inclusion gambit is insultingly transparent, but that doesn't stop desperate scammers from trying it. The latest chancer is Intuit, who claim that the end of its decade-long, wildly profitable "free tax prep" scam is bad for Black people:

https://www.propublica.org/article/turbotax-intuit-black-taxpayers-irs-free-file-marketing

Some background. In nearly every rich country on Earth, the tax authorities send every taxpayer a pre-filled tax return, based on the information submitted by employers, banks, financial planners, etc. If that looks good to you, you just sign it and send it back. Otherwise, you can amend it, or just toss it in the trash and pay a tax-prep specialist to produce your own return.

But in America, taxpayers spend billions every year to send forms to the IRS that tell it things it already knows. To make this ripoff seem fair, the hyper-concentrated tax-prep industry, led by the Intuit, creators of Turbotax, pretended to create a program to provide free tax-prep to working people.

This program was called Free File, and it was a scam. The tax-prep cartel each took a different segment of Americans who were eligible for Freefile and then created an online house of mirrors that would trick those people into spending hours working on their tax-returns until they were hit with an error message falsely claiming they were ineligible for the free service and demanding hundreds of dollars to file their returns.

Intuit were world champions at this scam. They blocked their Freefile offering from search-engine crawlers and then bought ads that showed up when searchers typed "freefile" into the query box that led them to deceptively named programs that had "free" in their names but cost a fortune to use – more than you'd pay for a local CPA to file on your behalf.

The Attorneys General of nearly every US state and territory eventually sued Intuit over this, settling for $141m:

https://www.agturbotaxsettlement.com/Home/portalid/0

The FTC is still suing them over it:

https://www.ftc.gov/legal-library/browse/cases-proceedings/192-3119-intuit-inc-matter-turbotax

We have to rely on state AGs and the FTC to bring Intuit to justice because every Intuit user clicks through an agreement in which we permanently surrender our right to sue the company, no matter how many laws it breaks. For corporate criminals, binding arbitration waivers are the gift that keeps on giving:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/24/uber-for-arbitration/#nibbled-to-death-by-ducks

Even as the scam was running out, Intuit spent millions lobby-blitzing Congress, desperate for action that would let it continue to privately tax the nation for filling in forms that – once again – told the IRS things it already knew. They really love the idea of paying taxes on paying your taxes:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/20/turbotaxed/#counter-intuit

But they failed. The IRS has taken Freefile in-house, will send you a pre-completed tax return if you want it. This should be the end of the line for Intuit and other tax-prep profiteers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/17/free-as-in-freefile/#tell-me-something-i-dont-know

Now we're at the end of the line for the scam, Intuit is playing the predatory inclusion card. They're conning Black newspapers like the Chicago Defender into running headlines like "IRS Free Tax Service Could Further Harm Blacks,"

https://defendernetwork.com/news/opinion/irs-free-tax-service-could-further-harm-blacks/

The only named source in that article? Intuit spokesperson Derrick Plummer. The article went out on the country's Black newswire Trice Edney, whose editor-in-chief did not respond to Propublica's Paul Kiel's questions.

Then Black Enterprise got in on the game, publishing "Critics Claim The IRS Free Tax Prep Service Could Hurt Black Americans." Once again, the only named source for the article was Plummer, who was "quoted at length." Black Enterprise declined to tell Kiel where that article came from:

https://www.blackenterprise.com/critics-claim-the-irs-free-tax-prep-service-could-hurt-black-americans/

For Intuit, placing op-eds is a tried-and-true tactic for laundering its ripoffs into respectability. Leaked internal Intuit memos detail the company's strategy of "pushing back through op-eds" to neutralize critics:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Intuit spox Derrick Plummer did respond to Kiel's queries, denying that Intuit was paying for these op-eds, saying "with an idea as bad as the Direct File scheme we don’t have to pay anyone to talk about how terrible it is."

Meanwhile, ex-NAACP director (and No Labels co-chair) Benjamin Chavis has used his position atop the National Newspaper Publishers Association to publish op-eds against the IRS Direct File program, citing the Progressive Policy Institute, a pro-business thinktank that Intuit's internal documents describe as part of its "coalition":

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Chavis's Chicago Tribune editorial claimed that Direct File could cause Black filers to miss out on tax-credits they are entitled to. This is a particularly ironic claim given Intuit's prominent role in sabotaging the Child Tax Credit, a program that lifted more Americans out of poverty than any other in history:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/29/three-times-is-enemy-action/#ctc

It's also an argument that can be found in Intuit's own anti-Direct File blog posts:

https://www.intuit.com/blog/innovative-thinking/taxpayer-empowerment/intuit-reinforces-its-commitment-to-fighting-for-taxpayers-rights/

The claim is that because the IRS disproportionately audits Black filers (this is true), they will screw them over in other ways. But Evelyn Smith, co-author of the study that documented the bias in auditing says this is bullshit:

https://siepr.stanford.edu/publications/working-paper/measuring-and-mitigating-racial-disparities-tax-audits

That's because these audits of Black households are triggered by the IRS's focus on Earned Income Tax Credits, a needlessly complicated program available to low-income (and hence disproportionately Black) workers. The paperwork burden that the IRS heaps on EITC recipients means that their returns contain errors that trigger audits.

As Smith told Propublica, "With free, assisted filing, we might expect EITC claimants to make fewer mistakes and face less intense audit scrutiny, which could help reduce disparities in audit rates between Black and non-Black taxpayers."

Meanwhile, the predatory inclusion talking points continue to proliferate. Nevada accountants and the state's former controller somehow coincidentally managed to publish op-eds with nearly identical wording. Phillip Austin, vice-chair of Arizon's East Valley Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, claims that free IRS tax prep "would disproportionately hurt the Hispanic community." Austin declined to tell Propublica how he came to that conclusion.

Right-wing think-tanks are pumping out a torrent of anti-Direct File disinfo. This surely has nothing to do with the fact that, for example, Center Forward has HR Block's chief lobbyist on its board:

https://thehill.com/opinion/finance/4125481-direct-e-file-wont-make-filing-taxes-any-easier-but-it-could-make-things-worse/

The whole thing reeks of bullshit and desperation. That doesn't mean that it won't succeed in killing Direct File. If there's one thing America loves, it's letting businesses charge us a tax just for dealing with our own government, from paying our taxes to camping in our national parks:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/30/military-industrial-park-service/#booz-allen

Interestingly, there's a MAGA version of predatory inclusion, in which corporations convince low-information right-wingers that efforts to protect them from ripoffs are "woke." These campaigns are, incredibly, even stupider than the predatory inclusion tale.

For example, there's a well-coordianted campaign to block the junk fees that the credit card cartel extracts from merchants, who then pass those charges onto us. This campaign claims that killing junk fees is woke:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

How does that work? Here's the logic: Target sells Pride merch. That makes them woke. Target processes a lot of credit-card transactions, so anything that reduces card-processing fees will help Target. Therefore, paying junk fees is a way to own the libs.

No, seriously.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

[batboyblog]

I feel like some people can't be/refuse to be educated, or they're deliberately being obtuse because they're trolls, psyops, or they just fell for the trolls and psyops. But its still good to point out where they're wrong and to give actual, you know, facts, for the benefit of other people reading who might actually be reachable.

yeah, I mean I usually ignore them because usually its bad faith and when a post is getting hundreds even thousands of notes in a day you just can't keep up with the 10-20-ish people who say something, particularly if its in the tags because thats just hard or fighting in the replies which always feels weird

But I was in a bad mood and in general seeing the same either bad faith or straight up don't know comment over and over and over again is very annoying

the "lol Joe Biden didn't do anything about Student loans!" one is pretty annoying since Biden has forgiven well over 100 BILLION dollars worth of student loan debt, so like he has done a lot on student loan debt. I'm not a big deal but I remember I did one of my "what Biden did this week" posts and it had the student loan debt forgiveness for people who got defrauded by the Art Institutes, and a few people added their stories of being defrauded and being in debt to AI for years and the one that'll stay with me was an older guy who went to try to get a new degree to get a job in a different field kinda late in the game, his 50s or 60s and of course didn't get the jobs he hoped for because scam college and saying how he thought he'd die in debt and it was all gone, all forgiven. So just like people flippantly dismissing a very real life changing thing is very annoying

there are a few other very common annoying ones "why didn't he do this when he controlled congress before!" well he was busy passing the biggest climate change bill any government on earth has ever done, investing in our Infrastructure for the first time since before Reagan was President (Reagan 😒) listen Biden passed 4 of the biggest most transformationally progressive bills the US has seen since LBJ

American Rescue Plan

Bipartisan Infrastructure Law

CHIPS and Science Act

Inflation Reduction Act

on top of which he passed the first gun control law out of congress in 30 years, and other things, like the Respect for Marriage Act to protect gay marriage, or making Juneteenth a federal holiday (the first new federal holiday since MLK day in 1983)

SO! thats why he didn't do the things he wants to do in his next term he was busy doing equally (and in the case of climate change more important) things and thats why we should all be hopeful if Joe Biden is President with a Democratic Congress he'll get most if not ALL the things on his agenda done, because he's fucking good at this, we haven't had a President this good at pushing bills through Congress and using every switch and lever of the federal government to make major progressive change since LBJ or FDR, I guess his big mistake was naming it something boring like "Inflation Reduction Act" and not something sexy like "New Deal" or "Great Society"

sorry to go off on a tare there, but its just frustrating to see 40 (out of tens of thousands really) posts saying the same dumb shit and having no real way to respond

[french-unknown]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐖/𝐂: 1.6k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 2 | - | p t . 3 |

Luffy lay down with you as you gazed at the stars from the Thousand Sunny. You weren't on call tonight but the frustration you felt prevented you from falling asleep so, annoyed, you had to give up the idea. The problem was that Sanji had made cannelés for everyone the day before and, not being hungry, you had hidden your in order to eat it later. Unfortunately, when you went back earlier, your dessert had disappeared and you didn't want to disturb Sanji who had already finished cleaning the dishes for the day.

You sighed as Luffy talked next to you, creating wacky stories about the clouds passing in the night sky above you. Needing solitude, you got up to leave, not without taking advantage of his inattention to search his pockets as discreetly as possible. If there was anyone on this ship who might have food on them, it was him. But the boy had nothing but crumbs so you left wishing him good night.

Arriving further, however, you saw that some crumbs had remained stuck under your fingers then, when you tried to remove them, you noticed that they had remained because of their sticky layer. Intrigued, you realized that, in addition to the food residues being sticky, they were still fresh since they were still soft and they smelled slightly of rum and vanilla. You hesitated a little in disgust but ended up placing one of the crumbs on your tongue. It was a cannelés leftovers. In Luffy's pocket.

"You ate my dessert, jerk!"

Since this morning, Zoro has been blackmailing you into washing the dishes instead of him. You weren't very happy to see a photo of you, drunk with a tomato-red face, dancing furiously with movements so random that they looked like you were defending yourself against an attack of invisible seagulls. Having lost track of that evidence after he put it in his pocket, you were determined to get it back.

When you separated in town, you decided to leave with Zoro. Saying he was wary at first would be an understatement, but he eventually relaxed even though he kept a safe distance between you two. You had tried everything to get closer: to accelerate towards him, to pass in crowds, to try to jostle him "accidentally" or to attempt a fall towards him. However, nothing helped, he always remained a few steps away from you. Growing more and more frustrated with your failure, you let yourself be left behind without a struggle as you thought of other ways to bring it within reach.

Luckily for you, you saw him stop as you passed a sword shop. Totally hypnotized by one of the exposed blades, you seized your chance and thrust your hand into its pockets in search of the coveted object. Luck may not have been so on your side, though, because you found absolutely nothing. You had to remove your hands so he wouldn't notice the intrusion, still totally shocked to find nothing.

"You expect it to be easy?" you heard him ask sardonically as he continued on his way.

As you were about to go to the bar with some of the Straw Hat Pirates, you were brutally arrested when Nami refused to give you your share of the pocket money. In front of your incredulous face, she invoked the money she had to spend to repair the material damage you had caused during a fight on the previous island. Unless you pay her the interest on a so-called "at-risk" loan amounting to 300% of course.

Shocked at having been scammed, you jumped out of the ship anyway to join the others on the road. Just because you couldn't afford a drink yourself doesn't mean you weren't going to drink! However, on the way, you saw a berry note protruding from the back pocket of Nami who was walking in front of you while talking with Usopp. So you approached the duo innocently then, when you were close enough, you reached for the note. Sadly, your hand came into contact with something firm, warm and tight that stopped your hand before it could reach the paper of the ticket. You looked down, curious, and felt a bead of sweat slide down your spine as you realized that the firm, warm thing in question was actually Nami's hand holding you in a death grip. You had just enough time to raise your eyes to see her murderous smile pointed directly at you.

"Did you really think you were going to get me?" She asked too sweetly, unsheathing her Clima-Tact. "I think you need to be reframed."

It was no secret on the boat that, before joining the crew, you made money by scamming and robbing people who came to Rain Dinners, Crocodile's casino in Alabasta. Your pickpocketing tendencies were therefore well known to the crew.

However, while you were chased by Luffy on the boat because you were holding a piece of meat, you tripped over Usopp at the bend of a hallway. Neither of you saw the other coming so he remained frozen while you found yourself on all fours on top of him. For your part, old habits die hard and, with a gesture more instinctive than conscious, you slipped your hand into his pocket to remove trifles that you had recovered. It was Luffy's cry coming closer that pulled you out of your torpor and pushed you to get up and run with your loot. But a few meters away, you felt that your thieving hand began to heat up and sting without really worrying you at the time. It wasn't until you got to the other end of the ship and your hand began to seriously burn you that you wondered what was going on when, at the same time, the captain snatched the meat from your hands before running away happily to eat his treasure safely.

For your part, you collapsed on your knees, your aching hand folded against your chest as you winced in pain. In your fall, you saw what you had stolen from Usopp fall from your pocket to land in front of your eyes. There were two small balls of an alarming red accompanied by a small note written by the hand of the sniper: "For the thieves who cannot keep their hands to themselves".

He was hesitating between two kinds of melons at the market so, with a different fruit in each hand and totally lost in thought, he continued to weigh them before making a choice. Suddenly, he jumped when he heard your laughter behind him.

"Not that I'm complaining about the pleasure of your company but how long have you been around?" he asked, surprised. "A little moment." You answered.

Having finished shopping, you returned to the boat where Sanji immediately began to store the groceries. As he listened to you talk, he felt the urge to smoke. He jammed one of his cigarettes between his lips as he retrieved his lighter from his pocket. He was then surprised when he did not find it. Without cutting you into your story, he began to look in all the pockets of his suit: those at the front and back of his pants, those of his jacket and even inside it but there was nothing there. He was however convinced to have it on him before going to the market.

All of a sudden, you offered your help. Though surprised at the offer, he was still relieved as he followed your directions and leaned towards you with his cigarette still between his lips. Your face, now less than centimeters from his, seemed almost irresistible to him as his eyes lowered inexorably to your mouth. Warmth crept close to his face and, as he inhaled, he felt the smoke rush into his lungs. Silently, he looked down further and saw your hand below his face holding a lit lighter. A lighter so familiar that it took him two seconds to recognize it; it was his.

The meal with the Straw Hat Pirates was always something. It was noisy, messy and sometimes stressful but it was still a moment of happiness and sharing among your crewmates. Despite that, your only concern at the moment was how you were going to manage to steal Robin.

You had never picked the pockets of the archaeologist so, out of pure competition, you had it in your head to steal her at least once and, unfortunately for you, her only pocket was on her chest. Impossible to steal her like that. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to find solutions on how to position yourself, how to divert her attention and put her in confidence or even what opening to use, you couldn't. The target was much too close to eye level and the fabric too close to the body for her not to notice.

A sudden and unusual silence pulled you out of your thoughts. You then realized that everyone around the table had shut up and looked at you without saying a word. Robin on her side, sitting right in front of you, had partly covered her neckline with one of her hands, embarrassed.

"If you keep staring like that, you'll soon have to paid." Nami spoke from across the table.

Instantly, a blush bloomed on your cheeks as you tried to defend yourself by stammering pitifully. Whatever you say about the rest of the meal, everyone looks at you suspiciously and you end up keeping your head stubbornly turned towards your plate.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717

[tubborucho]

NOT a /neg to op, I just want to talk about it

I would not say Tubbo necessarily cares for BBH specifically. I would even go as far as to say though he does care, it’s a very much normal amount, barely more than for most of the islanders he’d properly interacted with before. And you know me, I am the biggest Soul Sacrificers hyper and supporter in all the internet, so I do not say it lightly.

Tubbo doesn’t care for BBH that much. Maybe he would a bit more if he didn’t have his own thing going on and crippling mental health issues, but it is what it is.

Those 5 hours were for Dapper, not for Bad. If there wasn’t Dapper’s life on the stake and instead it was Bad’s Tubbo though would try to help anyway, it would not nearly be on the same level.

Tubbo yesterday did not care what is going on with Bad and his memory. You’d think he would be more interested in it because of the shared dying/coming back experience. But he literally just wanted his money back and that’s it.

When he told Chayanne he would look into bringing Bad back (though he then proceeded to forget about it anyway), it was because his godson was worried, not he himself.

And so on. If you want, you can just compare his actions and words to Bagi, who cares a lot about practically everyone. This is not the same.

HOWEVER

What Tubbo holds for Bad is just as important: respect. There has always been deep down respect between them. Even when they were at odds with Ron kidnapping and Tubhole, and even when they are more regularly just want to annoy each other or ‘take advantage’ of each other (aka Tubbo asking Bad for cookies quests stuff back on the old island). There always was respect. It is here now.

Respect turned comradary after the Purgatory when Tubbo listened to Bad’s calls during the @v@ interactions.

Respect, when he did not try to scam Bad with this loan, using his memory issues.

Respect, when Bad went along with Tubbo’s Salesman schemes and Tubbo immediately including him properly, WITHOUT trying to scam Bad himself.

Respect turned valuing opinion, when Tubbo was calling Bad over to Tubchunk specifically to have him look at his machines and farms.

Respect turned trust with Bad being 3rd person Tubbo specifically outwardly allowed Sunny to wake up to and Bad being the only person Tubbo didn’t really try to hide the existence of the bunker and its location from (comparing how he acted around Phil about that and before Fit was shown it, after which Tubbo kinda gave up mostly)

I would love for Tubbo to get closer to Bad in a way of genuine and strong care, For him to intentionally try to help him out when needed because of Bad and not because of a kid/Tubbo just being kind and helpful as a person, It’s not the reality now, though.

But what we have is still amazing. I love those two so much.

[pregnant-piggy]

Hope

Kaz Brekker x reader

word count: 5.2k

summary: left with nothing but a broken heart in Ketterdam, you decide to start life anew across the sea. but first there is someone you need to say goodbye to

The wind was whirling around your body, howling between the squeaking ships. It tugged and pulled on all sides. Stung in your eyes, but that could also be the tears you were trying to hold back. 

You weren't sure why it affected you this much. You had known from the start that it was bound to end in doom, that nothing about it would work, but you had nurtured a futile hope like it was a wounded bird. Carefully, delicately, but it had grown stronger over time. The broken shatters of your heart had allowed themselves to heal and now the seams were ripped open again. You were bleeding life. No wound had ever hurt this much. 

-=-=-=-

Your foot tapped a rhythm on the creaking floorboards as you tried to focus on your surroundings. It had been better this time. Not faultless—it never was—but better. You were in, would get the money, and then you'd be out again. Simple as that. 

Of course, nothing was ever that simple in Ketterdam. 

The papers in front of you were false. Your story was a lie. Your identity a scam. The only truthful thing about you was that you were physically there, but that was only because you didn't trust anyone enough to do this for you. You knew that you could have asked some of your old friends to do this—it probably would have been easier to let them do it. In, out, done, without having to go through the entire act. But they were still working for him. And you didn't want him included. Anymore. 

You could do this alone. You'd done it before. Stuttering and stammering so badly that they had asked you if you were alright, but in the end you'd gotten the money. This time you were prepared. 

The door opened and a tall man with grey hair stepped into the office. "Good morning." 

You flashed the man a smile. All a scam. 

He settled in the chair behind the desk. Bart Sleutel. Bart Key—ironic, considering he was the key to your plan. The small instrument that would open the door for you. 

"You asked for an early payment of your loan," Sleutel said. 

You'd tried to do honest work, but there wasn't much in Ketterdam. And you could take the person out of the Dregs, but never the Dreg out of the person. Or so you had found. 

"Yes," you said, flashing that same smile. "My landlord raised the rent and my new job won't pay out until next month." 

Sleutel raised an eyebrow. "Another new job?" 

"Yes, sir. The previous one did not pay enough to cover the rent. This one does." 

You waited for him to ask what the new job was, but Sleutel seemed smart enough not to want to know. 

"So you want an early payment." 

"Correct." 

"You have asked for early payment before." 

"Yes." 

"And you understand, of course, that while one time is acceptable, these types of things happening twice is highly unusual." 

It wasn't. You knew because you'd been living in Ketterdam for years and the city was like the back of your hand. Its streets and alleys, its people, its rules and habits. There wasn't a single part of Ketterdam unfamiliar to you. And so you knew that the bank would give you the second loan early. And that third and fourth at that too. Because it meant profit. 

You also knew because you had done the exact same thing at six other banks already. 

"We cannot make this a standard," Sleutel said. "But as the bank sees your struggle we will come forth with a proposal." 

You wondered what they did with the people that genuinely were in need of money. With the people that didn't have a fake registration at the university, that had no proof of the hard work they'd been doing to come around. Would the bank listen to them too? Or were they only talking with you because your name was registered under a company that would pay tremendous taxes to the government, had it been real?

But you sat and smiled. Listened to the proposal. You already knew it, of course. You'd done your homework. You listened as Sleutel explained the costs would be higher, that they could fine you if you did not pay back in time, that next time you came back, you had to bring proof of your payments before you could request another loan. 

You listened and nodded and agreed, smiling to yourself as there was one thing Sleutel didn't know. 

You were never coming back. 

-=-=-=-

You could hear the sea, waves slamming against waves, masses of water swirling and coiling and circling. The sea was someone's great escape. The way to get out of this rotten city and away from her ruined inhabitants. To start life anew. An escape from the trap that was laid out between dirty rivers and gambling dens and decaying architecture. 

But it was too late for you to escape from this trap. 

Like tripping over an invisible wire, you had stumbled and fallen. Hard. All the way down until you weren't sure anymore if you were still falling or had hit the ground and splattered. It was pitch black and you couldn't see where you were going, if you were going anywhere at all. You thought things had been moving forward but standing here, waves and wind and tears, you realised that you couldn't have been more wrong. 

The thing about being lost is that it isn't half as bad when you're not alone. When there is someone who will try to find the way with you. Someone whose hand you can hold. Figuratively. 

And you were so sure you had found that person. Someone willing to face the battles of life with you. To watch enemies get defeated and to celebrate the victories. Someone who had seen the shambles of your heart and didn't try to force them together but held them until they started to heal. 

Now that someone was handing you back the shatters and this time you weren't sure if you were strong enough to fit them together anymore. 

-=-=-=-

Ketterdam was a monstrous city, like someone had taken everything that was wrong with the world and put it in one place. It was a cruel beast, but at the seams beauty peeked through. A woman selling fresh fruit with a genuine smile. Two children running around singing songs. The ancient arc of a building that was untouched by renovations. When the sun slipped through the clouds and smoke and even the poorest people would find a sliver of hope in the rubble. 

Even monsters could be beautiful. You knew all about that.

That was why you had stayed so long. Why you hadn't just robbed a bank and run away. You needed to say goodbye to the city that had been your home for so many years. You needed time to say goodbye to the people that you'd miss. Time to accept that this was it. The end of Ketterdam for you.

You were at peace with it. The city had given you all it had and there was nothing left anymore. Nothing tying you to the crooked streets and flashing lights. You were done with the fights, the sneaking around, the deceiving. There was enough money to buy your way out of it now. 

But first, there was someone you needed to say goodbye to. 

You slipped into alleys no one else used, crossed bridges full of tourists with masks, and walked and walked until the streets turned silent and the houses dark. 

She was already sitting there. So still that you wouldn't have noticed her if you hadn't known she'd be there. But her perfect posture gave way to a smile and relaxed shoulders. 

"You're late," she said, shifting to make room for you. 

"A minute. The guy at the bank wouldn't shut up about the taxes." 

Inej's eyebrow quirked. "So you got it?" 

She was the only one who had kept in touch with you after everything fell apart. Friends are a dangerous thing when you're a criminal but for Inej, you'd put it all aside. The bond you had was strange to anyone else's eye but it worked. There was no time for tea dates or girl nights when you had to fight for your existence everyday but your friendship had grown in the moments between jobs, fleeting glances in the streets, caring for the other's injuries, picking each other's brains during preparations. And, of course, bitching about one person in particular. 

Inej knew of your plans. She encouraged you because asking you to stay was selfish and you kept each other's freedom as the number one priority. She was a little jealous, you could tell, because she couldn't leave yet. A little sad to see you gone. But she didn't say a word because she also knew that this wasn't the end of you yet. You'd be there the moment Inej Ghafa realised her dream and you'd do anything to make that come true. 

"I got it," you grinned, slumping down next to her. "Of course I did." 

"When do you go?" 

"As soon as I can. Staying here only enlarges the chance anyone finds out what I'm up to and I can't risk it now." You sighed, looking at the empty house in front of you. "There's a ship setting sail tomorrow night. I'll be on it." 

Inej let out a soft sigh. "I will miss you." 

You didn't want to address the pain in your heart upon hearing that. You had to go. You wanted to but you hated that it meant you had to leave your best friend behind. 

"I will miss you, too," you said softly. "All of this, actually. I never thought anyone could get so attached to a city." 

"Just the city?" 

You glared at Inej. "Yes. Just the city." 

Inej hummed, but not in agreement. "I don't believe you." 

You were silent for a very long time. All the memories played in your head and you wanted to blink them away but you couldn't. The office nights. The stake-outs under the starry sky. The impromptu dinners covered with weak lies—we were here anyway already and it will be a long night. The mornings of waking up without realising you'd fallen asleep so close together. The quick brushes of hands. So many featherlight touches you hadn't dared to believe were real. The hint of a smile. The linger of an eye. And then once, the hovering of lips, the breath on your skin, the pounding of hearts. The last time being so close. 

Then it fell apart. 

It was all in your head. The start. The middle. The end. Every single moment together and apart. Over-analysed again and again and again because you needed to convince yourself that you were better off now. You were fine. You were on your own and doing better than ever before. 

But as you looked at Inej and her knowing smile and her kind eyes, and as you thought of just the city? you weren't so sure of your reasons anymore. You had made yourself believe that you were leaving because you were ready for a new adventure. Because you had outgrown Ketterdam. Maybe you were just doing it because you wanted to run away. Away from the memories that plagued your mind every moment of the day. Away from ever having to face your past. You wanted to be gone from it all. Gone gone gone. 

So when Inej took your hand carefully, gave you an encouraging squeeze, you smiled sadly and whispered, "Maybe not just the city." 

"Have you spoken with him?" 

You shook your head. "I wouldn't even know what to say. I don't know if there is anything to say." 

"There is plenty to say," Inej said. 

Again you shook your head. "He made it crystal clear we were over." 

"So? Just because it is over doesn't mean that you never have to talk about it. You both owe each other an explanation. He broke your heart and you're still hurting. You left without a word and broke his heart." 

"I doubt that." 

Inej sighed. "He is still hurting too. You know him better than anyone else, sometimes even better than he knows himself, and you know how he felt for you. You weren't the only one in that relationship and you leaving hurt him just as much as him breaking your heart hurt you." 

You looked down. It wasn't as if you had wanted to leave, but things had grown so icy you couldn't stay any longer. There were no conversations unless forced to. Any proximity was avoided at all costs. And the stares. 

Oh, the stares. There were so many of them. From the side, across the room, right in front of you. A glance during a job. Fleeting eyes when walking past. You hadn't minded them before because you'd known the meaning behind them, the unspoken words that lingered behind those pupils. But after, the stares had changed. Harder. Colder. Longer. More intense and filled with an emotion you hadn't known how to read. You had not been able to stand it, to endure being a stranger to someone you thought you had known so well. 

So you left. Ran. Fled. Maybe from your life. 

Maybe just from Kaz. 

-=-=-=-

"I don't think we should do this anymore." 

"What?" 

You looked up. He was standing so calmly, so serene. Like those exact words hadn't just passed his lips. His expression was closed off, walls so thick even you couldn't see through them. 

"We’re done. This—" he gestured vaguely “—is over.”  

"Why?" 

You shook your head. It couldn't be that the person you had started to care for more than anyone else in the world would do this. There were plans together. For tomorrow night. For next week. For a year from now. 

You hadn't dared to believe it but as more time passed, you had allowed yourself to wonder about a future. Together. A possibility that this feeling could stretch beyond the dirty waters and rotten streets of the criminal city. That there was beauty in the years ahead of you. A chance. 

And you had believed that he thought the same thing. That you had seen it in his eyes when he looked at you and heard it in his voice when he talked to you. It was the slightest of lingering and a softness so strange that you hadn't known what to do with it the first time you'd heard it. 

But it had been there. Proof as clear as day. The brush of a hand when he walked past. The warmth of a chest behind you, never quite touching but you didn't need him to. And then, after a while, there had been the feeling of protection. The sense of knowing that there was someone watching over you. You hadn't liked it, did not need protection, but as it eased on you, you had realised how comfortable it was to take a breath, just for a moment. To let down your guard and see the world from a different point of view. And when you'd turned to him, you had found the same feeling written over his features. Your castle had turned into his and his into yours. 

But now he was pulling the bridge, locking you out. 

"Why?" 

You hated the rise in your voice. The weakness of disappointment that seeped through. 

"You know why." 

"I don't." 

But he shook his head, turned down his face. You couldn't reach him anymore. 

"This never should have happened in the first place. This was a mistake." 

You looked at him for a long time, then said, "You really think so. You really believe that." 

He was unfazed. "I do." 

"And you think it's my fault." 

"I never said that." 

"You don't need to. I know." A sudden anger filled you. Anger because you couldn't bear dealing with the pain right now. "You think it's my fault that for once in your life you showed a grain of humanity and you actually liked it. Just this once you allowed yourself to think that maybe there is more to life than money and criminality, and that scared you so now you're trying to blame me. But you brought this on yourself. I didn't 'weaken your defences' or make you 'soft'. That was all you, Kaz." 

He stared at you, long and hard. Anger burned in the corners of his eyes. He flexed his fingers. 

"Get out." 

His voice was softer than you'd ever heard before but full of barely constrained anger. You didn't like it. You wanted him to shout back at you. To get angry. You did not want to have this fight on your own. 

But instead he swallowed. Took a breath that was only a bit too deep to be normal. Repeated. "Get out." 

"So that is it?" you said, biting the inside of your mouth to hold back the uninvited tears. "This is how you end it?" 

His jaw twitched. "What do you want? Tears? Pleas? Sympathy?" He laughed, the sound of rocks being crushed. "You know me better than that." 

"I thought I did." You looked at him. Tense jaw, tight lips. His perfectly sculpted nose and those old eyes. His dark hair that you had noticed he'd let grow longer after you told him it suited him. One strand fell on his forehead and you wished you were back in the place where he would have allowed you to brush it back. But you figured that place didn't exist any longer. "Now I'm not so sure." 

"Get. Out." His eyes were like fire. "Get out of this house. Out of this damn city for all I care, but don't ever show your face here again." 

And you laughed. Laughed right in his face because you didn't want to cry in front of him. Laughed because you were falling apart on the inside and nothing could stop it. You laughed as you stepped back, taking one last look. Laughed as you left the room, left the house, left the street, walked, ran, sprinted until you could see the waves of the dark grey sea. Laughed as you looked over your shoulder and promised yourself you would never go back.

-=-=-=-

"I don't know," you said, shaking your head. "I wouldn't know what to say." 

Inej gave you a small smile and you thought she was being kind to you, but then you noticed another layer. The one you knew so well but hated that you did. 

"Oh, Inej, what have you done?" 

"What had to be done." She looked at you with an expression that was close to pity. "You deserve to start anew somewhere else and I do not ever want to take that opportunity from you, but you cannot pretend like it meant nothing. Because in a world like this you found something that most people don't even dare to dream of and you should not take that for granted." 

You swallowed and looked away. You didn't want your best friend scolding you. Even if she was right. 

"Don't you think that across the waters life would be better if you had closure on this? And don't you think it would be fair to him if you gave him an explanation?" 

"Life is not fair," you muttered. 

"No, life isn't," Inej admitted. "But you are. And so is he. In his own ridiculous way." 

You sighed. You knew Inej was right. Of course she was. But that didn't mean you liked it. You had done perfectly fine alone the past months. You had fought off gangs, tricked landlords into giving you a space to live, deceived banks to give you money that they would never see again—all that was fine. But the mere thought of having to face Kaz Brekker made you nauseous and nervous. It was ripping seams you had closed quickly and messily, opening doors you'd thrown shut. 

It wasn't as if you had a choice. Inej slipped from the bench, disappearing into the darkness, but not before she gave you a quick, tight hug and whispered in your ear, "I didn't even need to convince him." 

Then she was gone and you didn't have time to think of when you'd next see her again because there was the sound that any gang member in the Barrel—friend or foe—recognised. The ticking of the iron end on the cobblestones. Rhythmic. Stable. Unwavering. 

Until he got closer.

It was not that you had never seen Kaz again—you had. Ketterdam was a big city, yes, but it always seemed like the people one avoided were right around the corner. You had seen Kaz plenty of times, but always from afar and never intentionally. You didn't speak to him, didn't even want him to see you. Each time you'd caught sight of that black hair and that damned cane, you turned around. He had wanted you gone, so that was what you'd been. 

But now there was no turning away, no running back, no hiding. 

At first glance, he looked no different from any other day in his grey suit and black gloves. He was leaning on his cane, hand resting atop it. His face was inscrutable. His hair was short again. 

Yet, you hadn't missed the falter in his steps. And now you didn't miss the way his fingers flexed, the hitch in his breath as he glanced up, the uncertainty in his eyes. 

Inej had said that he'd come willingly and you wondered what he wanted from you. Kaz Brekker did no charity. 

He stared at you for a long time and you didn't look away. You remembered the time when those eyes had been your gateway to wonderland. Now the gates were shut and you were left wondering on your own. 

"You're leaving." 

His voice was so painfully the same that a surge of anger took hold of you. Who did he think he was, coming here for an 'explanation' when he had been the one to tell you to get out of the city? What did he want? For you to fall to your knees and beg him to take you back? Or did he just want to make sure you were really going? You didn't know which one hurt the most. 

"Yes, I'm leaving," you said. "Don't things just work out perfectly for you? Just like you wanted." 

Kaz's eyes hardened but you scoffed. You didn't care if he got angry. It didn't matter anymore. Inej'd said that you needed to give him an explanation, but you never promised anything. You could get up and leave. Run away. Again. 

Yet, something held you in place and you hated to think that it might be Kaz. 

"Why are you leaving?" His voice sounded so sincere that you almost laughed. 

Because of him. It had always been because of him. You'd stayed in Ketterdam for so long, even when opportunities of leaving came by, because of him. You'd never had a home and you thought you had found it in this wretched city but in the end it turned out it had never been the city. It had been him. 

And now you would leave because of him. Because you couldn't bear being in the places that held those bittersweet memories. Because everything reminded you of him and you didn't want to think of him. Because he told you to go. 

Because your head told you to leave and your heart was too broken to fight. 

"I've grown tired of the city," you said instead. 

Kaz looked at you as if he knew you were lying. "Grown tired of the city?" he repeated sceptically. 

You shrugged. "Or the city's grown tired of me." 

"It never could." 

You stared at Kaz. He seemed unbothered. You hated it but could not stop thinking why. Why was he here?

There were a thousand things you wanted to tell him. From the thoughts you’d had when you’d seen him for the first time to the way you’d felt when he’d brushed his hand to yours that one time in the silent street and when you had learned that he made sure there were never any carrots in your hutspot because he knew you didn’t like them to the pain you had felt these past months. You wanted to tell him of the nights you had lain awake in the Slat wondering what he would do if you’d knocked on his door. And of the past nights you had stared at the ceiling of your boarding room, wondering if you were making the biggest mistake of your life. You wanted to tell him of all the times you had thought of running back to him. 

But you couldn’t tell him. And that realisation made your heart break all over again. You had tried so hard to convince yourself that you were better off alone, but deep down you knew that one word from Kaz would put you right back to where you’d started. 

“What are you doing here?” You got up. Stood in front of Kaz. Stared into his deep brown eyes. “Why did you come, Kaz?” 

But he didn’t answer. Instead he said, “You’ve given me no answer yet.” 

And you wouldn’t. Because he knew the answer perfectly well and you wouldn’t let him hurt your pride that much. 

“Inej seems to think I owe you an explanation, but you and I know better than that. Did you tell her what you said to me?” 

His jaw tightened. 

“That’s what I thought.” You gave a dry laugh. “Ghezen forbid anyone ever dare think that Kaz Brekker has feelings.” You shook your head. “She also thinks I broke your heart, but I’m not even sure you have one to begin with.” 

Kaz kept staring at you with that steady, cold gaze of his. “Why did you do it then? If you believe me to be heartless.” 

“Because I was stupid enough to hope. And I know what you say about hope, that it’s a weakness and will always let you down, and maybe you’re right but you know what I have found? This city grows on hope. Hope that the next spin will pay off. Hope that the investment makes a fortune. Hope that we live to see another day.” 

You weren’t sure where the words were coming from. Maybe they had been inside you all along and were now spilling from the split seams of your heart. Maybe they were the harsh lessons you had learned while on your own. Maybe they were just annoying stabs, an attempt to fuel his anger, to hurt him like he had you. 

“Everyone hopes. Even those who claim differently. So what do you hope for, Kaz? Money? Revenge? Love? Invincibility?”

Kaz gave no reaction. 

“You know, I was selfish enough to think that it was me for a while, but now I can’t tell the difference between what I thought and what was true anymore. Sometimes I wonder if any of it was ever true.

“I hoped for you, Kaz, and that is the worst decision I have ever made in my life. You were right; we never should have happened.” 

He was still looking at you, saying nothing. His face was closed off and no matter how you searched there were no cracks. No seams to his mask and you weren’t entirely sure if it was a mask at all. This was just him, blank, apathetic, uncaring. It was impossible to think that once you’d believed differently. 

“So you’re leaving,” he finally said. 

You smiled humourlessly. “Yes. Gladly so. Everybody happy in the end.” 

“Hm,” Kaz only hummed. He flexed his fingers, then gave a nod. “Alright. Safe journey.” 

“So it seems.” 

But Kaz didn’t step away and neither did you. You didn’t know what you were waiting for; you’d had your say and you doubted he wanted to have his. Yet you could sense that there was something he did want to say. His unspoken words hung in the air between you, so tense and burning that you could almost read them coming from his lips. 

Then they were gone. He took a step back and shook his head, staring at you with a strange expression. The sudden urge to reach out for him rose inside you, but you swallowed it down. You and him were done and this was the last time you’d see him. One way or another you had to accept that, even if it felt wrong. 

“Goodbye, Kaz.” 

This was the end. You were getting out. 

-=-=-=-

The sun was sinking below the horizon when you boarded the ship. Kaz was watching from afar, not trusting himself to get closer. 

You were right; he had no heart. Where it should have been there was a hollow cave in his chest. A gaping hole that slowly filled with darkness until it felt like he was drowning again. He was ruthless, unfeeling, and cruel. He didn’t care about the world as he should, but he couldn’t care about that either. He was a monster, leaving everyone guessing what pumped the blood through his veins. 

He had no heart because you’d broken it. 

Once it had beat for you, but now all that was left was shatters and dust. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. So he watched you leave while the water rose around him, pulling him under. 

He had never wanted for this to happen. You’d asked him what he hoped for and the answer had always been and would always be you. It was you when you’d stepped into his office for the first time, a bit scared, a whole lot more courageous. It was you when you’d been brought in with a stab wound in your side and he’d nearly combusted as they’d stitched you back up and he couldn’t get close. It was you on dark stake-outs, in-between meals, mornings where the sun dared to show its first beams and sleep laced your every move as you walked with him through the Ketterdam streets. It was you every moment you were near and far. Every single time he wished he could still his demons and reach out to you. Every time he tried and lost the battle. 

And it had been you when you’d stood in front of him and he had said the words he would regret the rest of his life. 

He barely ate. Didn’t sleep. Felt the life slip from his grip as he could only think about you and the biggest mistake of his life. There were so many ‘should have’s, so many things he could have done differently. 

But when it came to you he didn’t want to be selfish. You deserved someone better than him, and he hoped that someone was on the other side of the waters. Somewhere far away from him. 

He had told you to get out and that was what you’d done. Maybe one day you would visit Ketterdam again and come see him and you’d both act like nothing had ever happened. 

And maybe that was Kaz’s weakness. But it was that hope that kept him afloat.

- - - - - - - - - 

six of crows taglist:  @xxinvisiblexx @awritingtree​

MASTERLIST

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not letting my brother (25M) use my mom car.

Sorry, not an english speaker so maybe weird grammar.

I (29F) honestly thing i might be TA here but let me kinda justify myself.

My brother wanted to use my mother's car for delivery (think Uberfood) and I vehemently disagree as it is the only car in the household.

For context, my brother has a history of, let say, fucking up. But the biggest fuck up is when he crashed my mom's friend car which I cited as protest. It is also the reason why we're in debt and why there's only one car.

So, our car had to go into service, so we didnt have any transportation to go to work. So my mom friend generously loaned her second car for the week. My brother was back from his overseas work and were staying with us.

He persuaded my mom to let him use the car for the evening and my mom agreed as long as he come back that night. The next day rolled around and he isnt back, and I have to go to work. So we called him multiple times before he finally picked up and assured us he's coming back. 30 min later, another call.

He got in to an accident.

He had broke his nose and bruised his chest and arm, but he's fine. That's the good news.

Bad news he rammed into another car, wrecking both in the process. The other car driver was also fine, minor bruises and all that.

Alright fine, the insurance will cover 85% of it, its not the worst thing.

Worst news, my brother doesnt have his license.

Like i said, he's been working overseas and only comes back for two weeks leave every three months or so. The license renewal is every two years. He has had plenty of times to renew his license. Worst he had lied he had renewed his license. It was only after the other driver called the police did he admitted that he didnt renew his license.

So now, no insurance. We're now in 50k in debt.

I say we because my mom had to take out a loan to pay for his car wreck and because it ended up not being enough, I also end up taking out a loan. He couldnt do it because he has a criminal record so we had to. Also had to sell our car for a cheaper one because the loan bleed us dry

He promised he would pay us back for the loan as soon as he starts working again.

Less than six months later, he lost his job because it was a scamming scheme company.

Now he is back and he wants to start doing deliveries and I am not having it. I told him that he needs to look for a job that doesnt require him using the car as he has a motorcycle he can use. And he keeps bringing up the fact that using the car means he can get more deliveries done as it is more comfortable which means more income, and the fact that I cant even drive myself, so i shouldnt have an opinion.

(I cant drive due to physical disability. Its mild but my mom does have to drive me to work.)

So, AITA for not letting my brother use my mom car?

What are these acronyms?

[mariacallous]

The price of bitcoin went over $100,000 for a few hours on Dec. 5, peaking at $103,400. The financial press can’t resist constructing a hand-waving story of market forces, so bitcoin going past $100,000 has been attributed to a market reaction to President-elect Donald Trump’s lining up a slate of pro-cryptocurrency cabinet, advisory, and regulatory picks after the crypto industry put more money into funding Republican candidates in this last election cycle than anyone had previously put into an election in history.

But crypto trading is thin and almost entirely unregulated—perfect conditions for commodity market manipulation. The public image of cryptocurrency is still shaped by the 2023 trial of Sam Bankman-Fried of the failed FTX crypto exchange, culminating in his conviction—and not to mention the hangover from the NFT fiasco. Crypto is seen as the domain of cheap scammers. Ordinary people are not flocking into crypto.

Coincident with the bitcoin price news was the collapse of the Hawk Tuah crypto token. Haliey Welch, who told an oral sex joke that went viral on YouTube, leveraged her momentary fame into a career as an influencer and podcaster. This culminated in the meme-coin cryptocurrency $HAWK, marketed entirely on amusement value, which crashed on launch in what looked very like a pump-and-dump—tokens were dumped on ordinary buyers soon after launch, crashing the price.

Welch denied that insiders had dumped her token and blamed automated snipers who bought the token the moment it was released, then dumped immediately. The Hawk Tuah-token fiasco only strengthened crypto’s image as a place where fools lose their money being foolish.

The price of bitcoin has recovered since the November 2021 peak of the last bubble—but actual-dollar retail trading volumes have not. Coinbase’s retail trading volumes are $127 billion so far in 2024—much better than 2023’s $75 billion, but nothing like the 2021 bubble’s $545 billion.

Bitcoin remains a strangely useless asset that doesn’t do anything. All you can do with it is buy, sell, or hold. The only use for cryptocurrency other than pure zero-sum speculation is bitcoin’s original use case: evading regulations, most often for illegal purchases, money laundering, or dodging sanctions. One might be justified in evading some regulations in some cases—but most are there for good reason.

The largest actual-U.S.-dollar crypto exchange is Coinbase. But price discovery takes place at the venue with the largest trading volume: the offshore exchange Binance. This exchange admitted a string of money laundering offenses in 2023, was fined over $4 billion, and was placed under stringent compliance monitoring by the U.S. Department of Justice and FinCEN.

But the Binance trading floor itself remains an unregulated free-for-all as long as U.S. entities are not caught trading there. Every market manipulation that would be illegal in the United States happens at Binance and similar unregulated, offshore floating crypto casinos—wash trading, flash crashes, delayed settlements, spoofing, and the exchange trading against its own customers.

Bitcoin trading volume is substantially against two dubious U.S.-dollar stablecoins: tether and FDUSD. These are minted in round billions at a time. It is frankly not plausible that anyone put billions of U.S. dollars into tethers or FDUSD to buy bitcoins on an offshore exchange with above-board intentions. They could have just used the money to buy bitcoins directly at a U.S.-dollar crypto exchange or, safest of all, to buy bitcoin ETF shares from any securities broker. The purpose of buying billions of tethers is to manipulate the price of bitcoin.

Each stablecoin is supposedly backed by a U.S. dollar held in a bank account—except when it isn’t. Tether Inc. has long created tethers out of thin air as loans, with the listed backing asset being the loan itself. Banks do this, too, but banks are regulated. Eighteen billion tethers have been created just since Trump’s election on Nov. 5, bringing the total issuance to 135 billion. How far could you pump the price of bitcoin with 18 billion instant pseudo-dollars?

The other use case for tethers is crime. Zeke Faux’s Number Go Up details the value of tethers as a dollar substitute for those too crooked to get dollars—it’s the favored currency for “pig-butchering” romance scams run by human traffickers. The U.K. National Crime Authority and the U.S. Treasury recently cracked an international money-laundering ring that used tethers to serve drug dealers, ransomware groups, Russian espionage operations, and sanctioned entities; the NCA called tether, not bitcoin, the “cryptocurrency du jour.” The news of the bust came out just before bitcoin hit $100,000. Tether-fueled bitcoin pumps seem to coincide with bad news mentioning tethers.

Tether Inc. is sensitive to the criminal use case for its coin and frequently freezes tainted tethers on the requests of the Office of Foreign Assets Control and FinCEN—but only after the fact. This requires Tether Inc.’s operations to be much more organized than they have been previously—such as during the years when the reserve was tracked, not in proper accounts but in a shared spreadsheet that was often out of date. Despite its compliance efforts, Tether Inc. is the subject of an ongoing federal criminal investigation by the Manhattan office of the Southern District of New York into possible anti-money-laundering and sanctions failures.

Tether Inc. has worked to mend its reputation in the corridors of power. The company does not operate in the United States, but it does keep much of the cash portion of its reserve in U.S. Treasury bills. These are custodied by Cantor Fitzgerald, whose CEO, Howard Lutnick, wanted to become Trump’s new Treasury secretary and will be brought in for commerce. Cantor Fitzgerald recently bought a share in Tether Inc.

After the crypto industry’s success with directing unheard-of quantities of campaign funding to the cause of electing Trump, we should anticipate further such attempts to curry favor. The Trump family’s own crypto project, World Liberty Financial, was set to fail until crypto entrepreneur Justin Sun, proprietor of offshore crypto exchange HTX, dived in and bought $30 million of its WLFI coin—taking World Liberty over the threshold so Trump would get a $15 million payout from the project.

Sun is given to flashy stunts, like purchasing Maurizio Cattelan’s duct-taped banana artwork Comedian (with cryptocurrency) and then eating the banana on stage. These give the media something to talk about other than Sun’s legal and regulatory issues, most recently the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission’s ongoing suit against Sun for securities violations. Sun looks forward to a more “friendly” U.S. crypto market under the new administration, with the pro-crypto Paul Atkins as Trump’s planned SEC chair.

One of the greatest channels for payback to his crypto allies may be Trump’s proposal at the Bitcoin 2024 conference in June for a U.S. strategic bitcoin reserve, apparently on the basis that the nation needs a store of this speculative commodity largely used for crime. Trump originally proposed that the government hold onto bitcoins that had been seized as proceeds of crime, rather than sell them off.

The current proposal to bolster crypto is Senator Cynthia Lummis’ Bitcoin Act of 2024, in which the Treasury and the Federal Reserve would buy 200,000 bitcoins each year for five years. The U.S. government would become the bitcoin holder of last resort, and the beneficiaries would be the crypto industry—and not ordinary Americans.

The incoming U.S. administration wants to clear “experts” from the bureaucracy. If the incoming executive branch wants crypto to operate freely, it will do its best to force crypto through and remove all possible impediments. Crypto’s perennial issues with fraud and impoverishing retail investors, and regulator’s fears of the risk of contagion from crypto to the wider economy, are likely to be glossed over so as to ensure market opportunities for administration insiders.

But in the end, gravity still works, and a balloon can be inflated only so much. The bitcoin bubble is an artifact of market manipulation and has no more economic substance than the Hawk Tuah coin does. The U.S. government may be ripe for plunder, but other nations need to take steps to shield themselves from the impact of rug-pulling on a global scale.

[were--ralph]

im going to make an ai art alt and only use it to scam rich people and no one has to know its me I'm just going to pay off all my loans and its gonna be fine because rich people are dumb