#like set a set amount of your income aside for it

[simplyghosting]

Idk if this is okay, but can I ask for prayers to be financially responsible? I impulse splurged on in-game currency and I’m regretting it so much now

Yeah, dude! Of course!

Games that have micro transactions like that can be a hard place to fall into, and while I recommend avoiding them entirely (i.e. gacha games/loot boxes), and deleting the games like that you have, once you're in, it can be hard to get out. They're designed to be predatory like that (same vein as gambling addictions).

We all have our strengths and weaknesses. For some people finances come naturally (like my mother) and for others it's a struggle (like my father). A good first step towards financial responsibility is recognizing what is a good or bad purchase, and then learning to recognize when the feeling to buy is an impulse, then learning to ride the urge wave (like sleeping on it, or spending time imagining how upset you'll be in a day, week, month, from now if you don't make that purchase). A "Does this purchase spark genuine joy or just something exciting in the monkey-brain moment?" if you will.

I'll be praying for you. You've got this *thumbs up*

[colebabey888]

Financing 101: Handling your money| IT GIRL DIARIES

A few financial tips my father shared with me that has kept me secure and taught me valuable lessons on saving and future planning..

When it comes to managing your money, always apply the 30:30:30:10 rule. This means allocating 30% towards your day-to-day or monthly expenses, 30% towards investments, 30% for future retirement savings, and 10% for your wants and luxuries.

I consider myself fortunate to live with my parents, which means I don’t have to cover utilities or household expenses. However, instead of spending all of my income on luxuries and my wants, I divide it thoughtfully. I allocate 15% more towards investments, ensuring that my money works for me and provides a return. The remaining 15% is set aside and added to my personal wants and luxuries.

Don't use the full amount for luxuries because you want to make sure that you are using the extra funds wisely. This way, you can contribute towards your future plans, even if while living with parents. It’s important to enjoy the present, but always be prepared for the future.

Never keep all your money in one bank account. There are several reasons for this. If you don’t see your money, you’re less likely to spend it, by keeping your investments and savings in a separate account that you rarely check, you’re less tempted to dip into them so keep them separate from your regular income in a different bank account. Also having your money spread out in multiple accounts is much more safer than having it all in one place.

Always put your savings and investments into a high yield savings account so that your money doesn't lose value due to inflation overtime and you profit through interest return.

If you notice your income increasing significantly, it might be wise to consult a financial advisor or get an accountant. A professional can provide valuable advice on how to save, invest, and manage your growing assets effectively.

Use a separate bank account for online shopping. Opt for digital payment platforms like PayPal or Venmo. Even with reputable brands, it’s safer not to provide your primary bank details. I personally use a completely separate account for online shopping, only transferring money when needed, and it has kept me secure for a long time.

mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88

[anchorandrope]

I need to know why L's sisters are always the ones making trouble on social media and looking for attention. I really don't understand why them

Look, im going to give you an answer from PR because that's my life so why not lmfao. And since i've worked with one influencer recently, i have no doubts regarding what is happening at this point with louis' sisters.

Im going to try to explain this as short and succinctly as possible. and im really sorry to say this but this is how things work in real life, i beg you to leave your parasocial relationship with louis aside for three seconds to think coldly about the situation, because i know perfectly well how some of you take every statement made related to louis. several statements can exist at the same time, not everything is black and white, etc. thank you...

Some of you may ask, why always the twins? and there is, actually, an answer to that question. The answer, believe it or not, is not because Lottie is older than the twins. Partly her age is related, but it is not the reason itself... let's see:

Lottie started working as Lou Teasdale's assistant during the OTRA Tour, and since then and thanks to her, she got in touch with many important job opportunities that another teenager who does make-up well wouldn't have.

She has been in Fashion Week, worked for Selena Gomez, etc. Everything from a very young age. Today, she doesn't live exclusively from social media, as many believe. Her income is not only from "being an influencer", she has her brand tanologist, she published a book.... In Lottie's case, social media is a fundamental communication tool that allows her to obtain opportunities that generate income, but it is not her entire income per se.

On the other hand, Daisy and Phoebe were too young to take advantage of job opportunities at that time (1D days) because they were kids... they, again it may not seem like it, didn't have the same level of important job opportunities as Lottie had at such a young age. Lottie was at Fashion Week when she was 17... the twins are still very young and their proper working careers are just starting.

Phoebe and Daisy started their modelling careers in 2020 and to this day, they are involved in social media, promoting products (swaps) and modelling in small photo shoots. They haven't really had a big job opportunity like Lottie has had.

Unlike Lottie, they did not have the same visibility from the start and their income comes exclusively from social media. Modelling and swaps/promo are things they do through social media, their working tool is Instagram/TikTok. They need that platform for their income.

Now, if you have social media accounts set up as public and as a content creator you will know this, but for those who don't: those who create content on social media in this way (influencers, among other cases) have their own tool that helps them most to calculate how much they will earn and that is metrics. The famous "professional dashboard/insights" from Instagram for example.

To hire an influencer (in addition to doing a previous investigation of who you should hire) you should ask them for their metrics so that you can reach an agreement on the amount of money for that exchange/interaction/etc. A fixed base number is set, but depending on the reach, the more money they receive is directly proportional to the amount of interactions and views that post has had. Like on instagram if you share the post as branded content, the company you tag can see your metrics.

The fact that the twins are the ones who post content that they know people will go to their stories/posts/comments to see or will make them follow them on their social media is not a coincidence because the amount of people who interact with them (whatever the reason, as your personal reason is not seen on a metric lol) is what generates them revenue, quite literally.

Yes, it can happen that once in a while as something "casual" because they are people, but not as a generality and even less so when a few days later they do another promotion or they are in one. What is going on and whether it is right/morally correct or not are two different questions, by the way.

This is what happens, welcome to the world of influencers! It doesn't matter if you agree or not, if you like it or not, or whatever, those are your personal opinions (which are perfectly fine, we all have them) but... that's how it is. lol.

I personally don't think it's right to use babygate as a method of generating interaction, and just as I brought it to the attention of the clark family, I will bring it to the attention of the tomlinson's. the child is a huge victim of this, everyone is violating his right to privacy and honestly its disgusting to see after like 9 years. It seems to me that gaining interactions (that lead you to gain money) with such a horrible situation and with a child seems to me something that people should be ashamed of, to be honest. Beyond babygate, imagining that larry and babygate never existed, it's wrong to do this, it goes way beyond fandom, which i think is something a lot of people don't truly understand.

if you really want the twins to stop posting this kind of shit, im sorry to inform yall that the only solution to the problem is going to be to stop following them, stop looking at their stories, stop liking and viewing their posts, stop commenting, etc. any viewing/interaction is reflected in a metric, check it out for yourself (besides there are more metric apps than just the ones IG/Tiktok gives you). If you spread a screenshot taken by someone else or stuff, you are not interacting directly with their account, so it's not the same ofc, but if someone doesn't understand how it works, they will go and see it for themselves and and they will generate interactions. It's impossible not to have them on the radar, i know, so at least i ask yall to focus on what's really important, and not on every idiotic thing that happens, because that way they just make it worse, literally.

[sgt-seabass]

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

I just wanna see you bleed. Open you and set you free. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader w/c — 9.7k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫disaster

part of the Vengeance AU previous part - 𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

warnings — bucky barnes is going through it, dark fic, the reader is having a hard time mentally (.... totally not self inserting heh), violence, slapping, spanking, use of a gun to threaten, non-consensual connotations and threats (nothing actually happens), mild mention of blood and injury, captivity, forced drugging via injection a/n — sorry this took so long. depression is a bitch. thank you navy for putting up with my delays!

The thing about love is that it comes with risks. And the biggest risk of all is loss, for a heart that does not yearn for another never truly knows the meaning of catastrophic loss until grief visits them. 

Love was still worth it to Bucky. Even with his wrenching heart and endless tears, the tenderness he shared with you was something that no one could steal or decimate. While the assailants had trashed your shared home, they could never take the memories - the feeling of your deft fingers brushing across his skin, the bright smiles you’d gift him, and the unwavering silent support that always held him upright. 

Bucky was a man because you motivated him to be his best self. He was no longer a ghost, a nightmare, a mirage of misery - he was human. 

You were gone. And there would be nothing stopping him from getting you back. 

It had been three days since you’d been taken, and frustratingly, Bucky felt no closer to finding you than the day when he’d first found the ruins of the apartment. He’d moved back into the tower with Alpine, taking up refuge in his old compound apartment. It was kept the same, like he’d never left. And he felt the same as when he’d lived there last – lost.

The whole team had become involved in finding you. You were family to all of them. And no one gets away with fucking with the family of the Avengers.

Bucky sighed and impatiently tapped his foot against the floor as he waited in the meeting room with Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Tony had been working on a reconstruction of what happened in the apartment since the security cameras were somehow turned off before the assailant’s arrival.

It was a planned hit; that much was clear. But they needed the rest of the details of what happened to know what they were looking at.

The room was silent. What could anyone say that hadn’t already been said? Bucky’s friends had already assured him they’d get you back safely, but those were empty promises said just to stop him from throwing himself off the top of the compound.

Bucky stared at the blank white wall ahead of him while his mind spiralled. This was his fault. If you were dead, that blood was on his hands. He should have known of the threat – had some inkling that this was coming. But he was completely blind-sighted. There was no indication that there was an incoming attack.

“Move the table to the side so we have room,” Tony commanded as he entered, his usual quips missing – quips that always made you laugh and smile, brightening the room with your aura.

“Hello to you too, Tony,” Sam said, assisting Bucky and Steve in pushing the meeting room table to the side so there was some floor space for Tony’s visualisation tool.

“Do you think she’s alive? Could she have survived the attack?” Were the first words out of Bucky’s mouth, his voice strained from the amount of crying he’d been doing.

“Yeah, I think she’s alive. Are you sure you want to see this, Barnes? It’s… It’s pretty brutal, even for your standards,” Tony sniped, earning a stern look from Steve. Bucky didn’t care, though; it was a fair enough jab when he’d been the one to kill Tony’s parents.

“Real smooth, Tony,” Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms.

Bucky set the awkward air aside. They weren’t going to get anywhere otherwise. “I need to see it.”

“Maybe you should wait outside, Buck—” Steve started, but Bucky raised his hand to shut him up.

“Don’t coddle me. I need to see it.”

Steve just put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze while Tony set up his small projection device.

Nothing could have prepared Bucky for the image that greeted him. There you were, or at least, an apparition of you. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but he held himself back. What he couldn’t stop were the tears that welled in his eyes. What if this was the last time he ever saw you? You already looked like a ghost in the odd blue hue of the technology.

Bucky gulped, his breaths coming out thick as you started moving from the bedroom to the shower. It played out like a macabre movie. Three assailants entered the apartment through the front door.

“They had keys?” Natasha asked, and Tony nodded in response.

Sam partially looked away when the assault began, Natasha and Steve’s faces hardening while Bucky had tears tracking down his cheeks. You fought hard, and Bucky couldn’t feel any prouder. You were his light – his fire, and you fought with every morsel of energy you had.

Tony was right – the ordeal was brutal and cruel. These men didn’t just kidnap you; they tormented you. This was personal.

“Any forensics?” Steve asked, his voice shaky.

“None. Whoever they are, they’re professionals,” Tony leant against the table. “And they clearly have a vendetta. Any enemies that stand out, Barnes?”

“Hydra is always top of the list.” Just the mention of the name had everyone in the room shuddering. Hydra had already done so much damage.

“Hydra fell when S.H.I.E.L.D did. They’re gone,” Sam reclined against the wall, hand rubbing nervously over his jaw, the same spot Rumlow had got a good hit on him during their fight at the Triskelion.

“You’re naive if you think that would get rid of them.” Natasha walked up to the projection, zooming in on the word you’d written on the ground. Blonde. “Although I don’t remember any of our known enemies being blonde.”

“Pierce was blonde.” Steve suggested.

Tony shook his head. “He was grey. And I highly doubt he’d be breaking into an apartment, seeing as he’s got a bullet-sized hole in his chest. Plus, he was an old fucker.”

Bucky forced himself to watch the whole recreation, eyes not straying for a moment as he searched for anything he was missing. It was a carefully executed but merciless attack. Tony was right; it seemed you’d survive physically, but what about your mind?

Bucky could hardly bear to think about what they were doing with you now they had you alone.

With you passed out on the floor, Bucky watched as the men bundled you up in a sheet to carry your bloody mess of a body out in. “There were no drag marks?”

Tony shrugged. “Nope. They carried her.” 

“Did no neighbours report anything?”

“It was early morning, so most had already left for work, and anyone who did see something aren’t coming forward. People these days aren’t keen on being a snitch since that puts a target on their backs,” Sam delivered sadly. To a degree, Bucky understood, but at the same time, he wanted to question every person in the damn building.

Realistically, his efforts would be better placed searching through viable intelligence sources. The more reliable the information, the better. These guys would have had to make some noise somewhere, and Bucky intended to find where.

“I’ll ask Maria to get the analysts onto where they might have gone. They’ll check every car that was spotted in the area if they have to. And we’ll see what we can get off the surrounding cell towers. If we’re lucky, they pinged off one of them. They can’t have just disappeared with her,” Natasha’s voice turned clinical. It was easier to be strategic without the emotional strings attached.

Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Check all private flights and airspace as well. I expect they’ve left the country and gone somewhere harder to track. The fact they went to this effort and didn’t kill her outright means they have a use for her, which means she’s still alive.”

“Until that use runs out,” Bucky cut Steve off, his jaw twinging with how hard he clenched his teeth. “Then they’ll kill her.”

“We’ll find her before then, Buck.”

“We have to. She’s taken my heart with her.”

You’d been lucky in your life that you’d been sheltered from physical pain. You’d known grief, sadness, all the usual trials of life. But this level of absolute anguish was new. 

You were thankful you’d gone this long not knowing what it felt like to fear an impending death.

What even was death? An endless nothing? A light at the end of the tunnel? A world where you’re reunited with all those souls that had already left? Either way, it was the cessation of suffering. You can’t suffer when you don’t exist. 

Days had passed since your capture, and a routine had set in. In your dank, mossy-smelling cell, you ate, stretched, slept, shit, and brushed your teeth - a macabre rinse and repeat that had your mind dulling. You prided yourself in being creative, so having no stimuli apart from grey walls and odd smells was a special kind of torture.

Your captors left you alone for the most part. You only saw them when they delivered meals and your toothbrush, and even then, sometimes, they’d just slide the items through a small hatch in the bottom of the door, expecting you to return the items promptly.

Damien or Maddox would often leave with some snide remark, while Kage never said anything.

The thought of fighting back had crossed your mind, although you couldn’t do much with them watching, the blinking red light of a camera in the corner of your room a constant reminder that you were not alone.

Bucky would be closing in by now, right? Each time you heard steps coming to your enclosure, a morsel of hope would flourish like a blooming flower. And each time, those beautiful flowers had their heads sliced off. The disappointment was clear on your face each time, and a small whine would escape, normally ending in you devolving into a pit of tears.

Crying was the only solace. 

As the days had passed, you began to fear the opening of the door, because you expected death with his scythe and billowing black mist to be there waiting to cut off your head, like the way your hope had been deflowered.

Today was the same as all the others. Pain, tears, and acute loneliness all present. You sat on your cot with your legs to your chest, bandaged feet resting on the mattress so you could cry against your knees. Your wounds were healing slowly, bloody bandages changed by Kage each day, while your heart continued to break.

The wall vibrated subtly as music began playing upstairs, the reverberations traveling all the way down to your cell. You were underground, that much you had gathered. After your dinner, you would hear the music begin to play. You weren’t sure what they were doing up there, but you never heard any additional voices, so you assumed your captors were alone. Although, there could easily be a thick layer of concrete separating your roof from their floor, so you just might not be able to hear it.

All you did know was the music normally meant it was time to try and sleep. You had no sunlight, so you had to rely on the meals and music as your clock. You could have an opposite sleeping schedule for all you knew, but the men never said anything of it, so you assumed your intuition was right.

With a heavy sigh, you lay down, covered in an oversized t-shirt and cotton panties. It was cold, but with nothing more than a thin blanket, so you had no choice but to shiver and bear it.

The vibrations in the wall made a white noise that filled the room, and you preferred that over the silence. You couldn’t hear the music, so you liked to try to imagine what song it might be based on the tempo. 

You smiled to yourself as you placed your hand against the wall. Whatever it was, you knew Bucky would hate it. Deep bass beats were never his style. While you liked to imagine your boyfriend as John Wick, fighting along to electronic music, you knew the reality was far more grim. 

Thinking of Bucky, your eyes started to get heavy, and you slowly fell asleep.

It wasn’t a peaceful slumber, but it was rest - something you tried to get every chance you could. You didn’t know when you’d need your strength, so you tried to reserve it. 

And as it turned out, a situation requiring your strength was around the corner much sooner than you had expected.

The door to your cell swung open, and the loud sound had you shooting up with a squeak and wide eyes, no remnants of sleep in your mind as adrenaline surged through your veins. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight you’d be met with.

It was Damien who spoke first as they entered. “We caught ourselves a new pet. I have to say, this one seems much less fuckable than you.”

“Bucky,” you gasped, mostly in disbelief.

It wasn’t the rescue you’d dreamed of. Bucky hadn’t come in guns blazing and a smile of relief on his face.

No, Bucky was slumped, his metal shoulder being carried by Maddox and the other by Damien, while his legs dragged across the floor behind him and his arms were secured behind his back. He was dressed in his tactical gear like he’d come with the intention to save you. His face was bloodied and ashen, his hair sickly sticking to his forehead, and to your horror, there was a muzzle placed over the lower half of his face. You’d seen a picture of Bucky from when he was a soldier when you’d accidentally walked into a briefing room in the compound, his face scattered among others you didn’t recognise. But seeing him like that in the flesh was something else entirely.

You jumped up from the bed, ready to run to him, but Kage was by your side before you could act. He placed his hand on your collarbone, warning you to stay in place. “Your face is priceless.”

You couldn’t even feel the pain in your feet, as if the wounds were never there, as you whimpered at the sight of your lover.

“Bucky, are you alright? Bucky. Oh god.” You tried to move, but Kage’s hand gripped your forearm painfully, his digits digging in and leaving divots. Bucky tried to speak beneath the mask, but only muffled sounds came out. “No, please, don’t hurt him.”

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” Maddox grinned, the pride clear as day on his face. “The mutt put up a fight, I’ll give it that. But it failed. That must really suck for you.”

They spoke like he wasn’t even a man. Not even a dog. Just an annoyance - a hindrance.

Damien and Maddox dumped Bucky on his knees a few steps from you. And that’s when he finally looked up. It was like he hadn’t wanted to accept that was your voice he heard, but once he set eyes on you, that was it. 

The dams broke, and both of you resolved into tears. “No, this isn’t real. This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening.” Damien kicked Bucky’s back, sending him lurching forward, his cheek painfully hitting the concrete floor. The pained sounds that came from your boyfriend would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Stop it!” You yelled, Bucky’s whimpers too much for you to handle. He was trying so desperately to speak, to move, but they’d beaten him badly and secured his metal arm away with vibranium cuffs. 

It didn’t stop him from trying though. Bucky rose to his feet, swinging his weight around so he could roundhouse kick towards Maddox and Damien. Maddox was faster though, pushing Damien out of the way and catching Bucky’s leg. 

There was a sick crunch when Maddox tripped Bucky’s stable left leg, his body buckling to the floor while Maddox held his right leg, allowing the joint at his hip to fold into an odd position before Bucky hit the floor on his side. He withered with a pained groan, while Damien took the chance to kick him in the stomach. It was like watching the most morbid film play out in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold Bucky and tell him it was going to be okay. But the thing was, you never lied to him. And you had no plan to start now.

You tried desperately to wrench yourself from Kage’s grip, but instead he yanked your back to his chest, placing his arm across your belly so you were held uncomfortably against him. “He failed you. Do you think he still thinks this is all worth it? Or do you think he should have just left you to rot?” 

It was the most Kage had ever spoken to you, as if Bucky’s mere presence brought out a vitriol he kept hidden.

You shook your head, desperate to reject the baseless accusations. Even with his mouth covered, you could see in his expression alone the love Bucky held for you. You would never stop believing in him, even in death. “He hasn’t failed me,“ you gritted out, tears tracking down your cheeks. “He could never fail me.”

A sense of realisation took over you, the cogs turning as you looked upon your beaten lover. You’d wished for him to rescue you, to take you away from the pain and shield you from any further torment. But in doing so, you’d denied that Bucky was vulnerable - that he was the human you so dearly loved - made of flesh and blood and so dearly mortal. By placing him on the pedestal of a hero, you denied him his sensitivities, his feelings. You’d made him impuissant through your view of him as an impregnable force. You forgot that he is but a thing of atoms and material, so easily broken.

It was due to your expectations that he lay on the ground before you, bleeding and crying. Because he knew you were waiting for him. And here he was - just not in the way you had hoped. Now, hope was but a bird with broken wings, ready for death and the conclusion of existence. It was time for it to be put out of its acute misery. And it was time for you to mature and take responsibility for your future. 

“The only person who can save me is myself. It’s my path to take, not his,” your words came out shuddered, your hand raising to cover your mouth to try and hide your sob. It did little to muffle the sound as your eyes met the familiar cerulean blues. “Bucky. It’s fine.”

Damien pulled the muzzle from his face, and Bucky allowed a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in hours. “You have me, just let her go.”

Maddox laughed, shaking his head as he ruffled Bucky’s hair. “Trying to be noble, huh?” His fingers looped in the sweat-drenched strands, roughly pulling Bucky’s head back as he whimpered. “Do we look like we’re going to let her go?”

“She’s innocent in this, please,” Bucky begged, blood trickling down from his hairline as he squirmed on the cold floor. It was a painful, pitiful sight. “Keep me, but let her go.”

“Why would we when we can have some fun? She’s so pretty when she cries. The perfect toy for us to play with,” Kage husked, the hand on your stomach starting to dip lower towards your dignity.

You slapped his hand, an action which gained you a violent response. Kage threw you to your knees, the impact causing your bones to quiver and your cries to fill the room. You had to be strong, you had to be strong - the mantra didn’t help much as Bucky snarled protectively. “You touch her, and I’ll fucking kill you. I swear I’ll–”

“You keep running that mouth of yours, and it’s her we’ll punish,” Maddox gripped Bucky’s chin between his fingers, before spitting in his face.

“Please, I’m begging you. She’s just a normal girl, she’s innocent–”

“She’s not going to be so innocent when she has our cocks shoved down her throat.” Damien approached you, eyes raking your barely covered form. You stunk after days of not bathing, but that seemed like the least of their concerns.

“I can see why you picked her. She’s so much fun to have around.” Maddox forced Bucky’s viewline to you, arching his head on an awkward angle with the fingers tangled in his locks.

“You don’t own her,” Bucky rasped. “No one does.”

Maddox hummed with a shake of his head. ”That’s where you’re wrong. We all have our masters. Now we’re hers.”

"I will fucking kill you," Bucky snarled, trying to get off the floor, trying so desperately to fight. But he was easily subdued by Maddox in his weakened state.

Damien turned to your boyfriend with a smirk. "Not before we fill up each of her holes. So why don't you sit back and enjoy the show? Be a good boy now. Wouldn't want to have to muzzle you… again."

"We're going to enjoy breaking her," Maddox teased, his face getting close to Bucky’s, a staring contest of will beginning between the two. A contest that Bucky quickly lost when Maddox punched him in the gut. ”While you have your own appeal, I don’t fuck mutts.”

It was hard to process the scene playing out in front of you - the taunting, the threats, the hurt. It was too much to bear. You just wanted to be in Bucky’s arms again and have him tell you it was all okay.

But no, you had to be strong. “Please, don’t hurt him anymore. I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want.”

Kage held you firm, his free hand reaching up from behind to grab your jaw painfully. He didn’t speak, but you could feel his hot huff of breath against your ear, the remnants of a growl in it.

“You’ll do whatever we want regardless,” Damien commented, searching your face and soaking up all the emotion he could find.

Maddox left Bucky battered on the ground, but not without one more kick, this time to the underside of his jaw. Bucky’s head snapped back, a crack sounding as his teeth slammed together in the forced movement. 

You screamed, Kage and Damien’s hands beginning to roam across your body, feeling you like you were theirs. But it was like you couldn’t even see the three men anymore - just Bucky. Your vision had tunnelled to the focus on the one thing you cared about.

“Bucky! Are you alright? Bucky, please!” You couldn’t look away as his head lolled sickly, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. 

The hands keep moving over you, nausea roiling in your gut with each passing moment. But you still only focussed on Bucky. “Bucky, please. Bucky. You’ve got to get out of here. Somehow. Just go, please.”

The cell door was cracked open. He could logically make a run for it. But you knew he wouldn’t, not in his current state, and not without you. Maybe Steve was on his way? But you knew Bucky wouldn’t look so crestfallen if help was coming. 

“Please, Bucky.” You cried, not even sure what you were asking for at this point, all you could do was scream his name.

The more you yelled for him, the more you chanted his name like the only prayer you knew, the more the world began to warble. 

Bucky’s form began to waver, as did the rest of the room. Maddox, Damien and Kage had frozen in their assault, their skin rippling as your breath suddenly fell short.

What was happening? You couldn’t scream for Bucky anymore - you couldn’t do anything, as if your mouth had been glued shut.

As your tears fell and sobs bubbled from your throat, the world dissolved.

The nightmare was ending, allowing leeway for the real horrors to become apparent.

You woke for real this time with a jolt, your sounds muffled by the tape over your lips. You were sobbing just like you had been in your dream, and as you took stock of the room you quickly realised Bucky wasn’t here. It had been a horrible nightmare.

What was real, was Maddox towering over you, a roll of tape discarded on the ground and his gun to your head. He looked the angriest you’d ever seen, salivating and almost frothing at the mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The tears started falling faster as you screamed against the tape, but it did little to quell Maddox. He forced each end of the tape down, the gun in his hand coldly pressing against your cheek. 

“Say his name again, I dare you. I'm not going to cut your tongue out. I'll fucking rip it out,” he growled, his words mouthed against your face and over your bound lips. His spit smeared over your skin, the heat of it warming where the metal of the gun had cooled.

All you could smell, see and hear was him. It was an overwhelming sensation that had you wanting to escape.

You writhed, but you couldn’t get away from him as he caged you in, kissing over your mouth again in a show of control, not endearment. He could take what he wanted from you whenever he wanted. You screamed and squirmed, but Maddox held you in place before ripping the tape off, allowing you to finally breathe in the musky basement air. “This fucking mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

“W-What did I—“ Your heart nearly broke through your ribcage with how hard it was beating as Maddox forced the barrel of his handgun into your mouth, the metal sitting against your tongue and leaving a horrible taste. 

The struggle stopped, and you looked into Maddox’s eyes. The malice was pertifying. It wasn’t the same look he’d had during the assault in your apartment; no. It was worse. He was going to kill you.

His thumb moved in one swift motion to click the safety off, his finger resting on the trigger. “Say goodbye.”

You closed your eyes, fear clutching your heart and what felt like concrete in your lungs. You didn’t want Maddox’s face to be the last thing you saw, so you thought of when you and Bucky had adopted Alpine.

She had been found on the streets as a stray, only a year old with matted hair and a little injured paw. You’d both fallen in love with her, and nursed her into the ball of chaotic floof she was today. You thought of the moment where you first brought her home. She stayed in her carrier after the door had opened, too scared to venture out. So you and Bucky sat on the floor, cuddling and talking while Alpine slowly came out, before sitting next to you both. It was so peaceful. Such a small moment changed the trajectory of your life. It was those pockets of happiness you cherished the most.

You waited for the bang, the flash, the quick pain before the nothingness. But it didn’t come.

Instead, you heard rushed steps and yells before Maddox was hauled off you, the brunette slipping the safety back on as he let the other two pull him back. 

“What the fuck?” Damien snapped, a commotion starting.

But it was like water was in your ears as you stared up at the ceiling from your bed, the chain secured around your ankle rattling with the way your body couldn’t stop shaking. Your arms covered your torso, and it took you what felt like forever to open your eyes.

“She was calling for him! For that bastard!” Maddox yelled, and it was then you turned your head to look at him.

“What, so you were going to kill her? Mads! Stop! We just got her!” Damien grabbed Maddox by the shoulders, shaking him like it would bring him to his senses.

"One simple fucking rule. Don't ask to go back to him. She was wailing like a fucking banshee."

Kage was the only controlled one, ushering Damien out of the way so he could take Maddox’s face into his hands. “You’re not back there. You’re not being compared to him, not being tested on. Stop. You’re here, and you almost just killed her.”

“She. Called. For. Him,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.

Damien glanced over at you, and it made you curl a little closer to the wall. "She didn't mean to, Mads. You know she didn't. Just breathe. Come on.”

It didn’t stop Maddox from spitting on the ground, his breaths coming out in adrenaline fueled shudders. “That piece of shit. I bet he bragged to her. I bet she fucking knows everything he did and is playing stupid.” With Kage holding him, his sightline turned to you. ”You’re pretending like you have no idea what he’s done, aren’t you? You dumb fucking bitch!”

“You know that’s not what’s happening,” Kage quickly reasoned with Maddox’s face still between his palms. It was clear there was a brother-like bond between the three of them. It would be nice, if the context of the situation didn’t exist. If anything, it made you more scared of them.

The fear had your body feeling frail, and it took you a few tries before you could sit up on your cot. “W-Whatever I did… I’m sorry. I don’t k-know what’s happening.”

Even you were caught off guard with the weakness in your voice, but the apology did nothing to appease Maddox. In fact, it incited the flame again. He broke free of Kage’s hold, and you didn’t have time to defend yourself before he smacked you hard across the face, the sound resonating like a sick echo in the cell.

The pain came a few seconds later, a sharp sting spreading across your face as you sobbed.

“You fucking bitch. You think this is funny, don’t you? Playing the innocent act just so you can fucking laugh at me once I’m gone.” He was trying to goad you into something you weren’t. You wore no mask, obscured no part of yourself. You were just you. And in a world where so many people lied and deceived, you could understand where the line of thought had come from. But Maddox couldn’t be more wrong about you.

What was it he had against Bucky anyway? There was clearly history you were missing, some big piece of the puzzle that had been hidden.

You didn’t get a chance to respond before Damien was tugging him back, taking the gun from him and pulling him away. “Mads, you’re triggered. That’s enough. You’re not yourself.”

For a moment, you could swear there were unshed tears in Maddox’s eyes, but didn’t get the chance to tell before Damien had pulled him from the room, leaving you alone with Kage.

There was a long silence for a moment, just your cries as your hand rested on your throbbing cheek, with Kage standing by in thought. He looked to you, his icy stare not helping you calm down. “I’m going to have to punish you.”

You could still hear Maddox yelling as you rubbed your cheek, and when Maddox’s voice finally faded you curled your knees up to your chest, your sobs shaking you. Maddox would have killed you if they hadn’t intervened, but now you were going to be punished. It was cruel. “What did I do?”

“You broke a rule. You called for him. Subconscious or not, every part of you has to learn the consequences.” Kage rolled up his sleeves, crossing his arms. It was clear his conviction was settled, and there would be no point bartering. “First, you’re going to shower. You’ve pissed yourself.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes when you looked down and realised Kage wasn’t lying. The sheets stuck uncomfortably to your legs and panties, the hem of your shirt soaked. You weren’t even sure when it happened, having been so caught up in the nightmare and then Maddox’s rage. Your fingers gripped the edge of the mattress, head hanging so you didn’t have to look at Kage.

Part of you wasn’t even sure if you were humiliated. They’d stripped you so bare you didn’t have much left, not even the dignity that would be hurt from something like this. More than anything, you cursed yourself for not being braver.

You had to hold your own if you were going to survive.

Words failed you when Kage took your arm to stand you up, and you didn’t say a word as he released your chains started to lead you from the room. 

It was a slow walk as you hobbled on your injured feet, but it was clear Kage had no intention of carrying you as he walked a few steps ahead. He’d let go of his hold, so confident that you’d follow him that he didn’t even look back. You knew he’d overpower you without even breaking a sweat if you tried anything, and you didn’t have the energy to fight.

You were surprised to see the underground was more than just your room, with a small hallway connecting you to a large shower room. You assumed there must be more cells, because there were multiple shower heads and a few random lockers. Almost as if it was a prisoner gym shower. It was odd, and you cautiously stepped forward.

Kage just ushered you towards the shower, crossing his arms as he watched you limp onto the tiled surface. You went to take off your bandages, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. Flustered, you moved to your shirt and underwear instead, turning away from him as you stripped bare and dumped the soiled clothing on the floor.

You cautiously stepped forward to turn the shower on, shuddering when the cold water began pouring out. There was only one tap, and no indication that the water was getting warmer, so you turned back to your captor. “There’s no hot water?”

There was no response from Kage, just a stare that told you all you needed to know, as if he was silently saying ‘get on with it’.

You shivered as you stood under the cold stream. When the water washed over your face, it was like you were back in your apartment all over again, and you let out a panicked gasp before stepping back.

The way your body shook wasn’t only from the cold.

With a bated breath, you glanced back at Kage. But he was no closer. He wasn’t going to pull you out, going to attack you, it seemed. The danger still loomed, memories of your assault fresh in your mind.

You returned to the water, washing yourself off as you could feel Kage’s gaze burning into you, as if he was studying each of your movements. He finally moved when the water shut itself off, pointing to a grey towel that was the same dull colour as the rest of the basement.

The last remaining water droplets blinked from your vision as you stepped forward, taking the towel and beginning to dry off. You glanced around, frowning when you saw there were no fresh clothes. 

“Uhm… clothes?” You asked hopefully, to which Kage shook his head. It wasn’t surprising, but it was upsetting.

As you ran the towel across your skin, you couldn’t rid of the nagging question that was plaguing your mind. “Why didn’t you just let him kill me?”

“He doesn’t need the guilt,” Kage finally spoke, but his answer only made your brows furrow.

“Why would he feel guilty for getting rid of someone who doesn’t matter?” It was conflicting information. They’d said you were nothing while in your apartment, and had treated you as such. But of course, you weren’t given an answer. Instead, Kage began leading you back to your room, your waterlogged bandages making it hard to walk. “What’s my punishment?”

Kage doesn’t answer, instead leaving you alone in your cell. “Strip the bed. I’ll be back.”

You gently rubbed your cheek where Maddox slapped you as you stared at the open door. You could run, but that would just worsen the situation. And you were in no condition to make it far.

Your gaze shifted to the blinking red light in the corner, staring into the black lens before snapping out of it and beginning to strip the bed as you were told. You kept replaying the events in your head, but it just didn’t make sense. You didn’t know why Maddox was so furious, and why Kage and Damien stopped him before he did any real damage. There was clearly something you were missing, but you were too fatigued to notice.

You used the sheets to soak up any remaining moisture from the mattress, which was covered with some sort of dark waterproof fabric. Unsure of what else to do, you placed the sheets by the bed.

With the sheets on the floor, you sat next to them on the cold concrete, waiting until Kage came back in with fresh bedding. He held it out to you, waiting for you to approach him with an air of impatience. You hoped your punishment was a simple as making the bed, but you knew you were in for worse at the hands of these men. 

It didn’t take Kage commanding you to put the fresh sheets on the bed, his eyes not leaving you for a moment. He let out a hum when you finished, before taking a seat. “Come here.”

You let out a shaky breath before you approached him. There was something so ominous about the blue shine to his eyes, like a full moon bearing its magnetic energy onto you. You couldn’t help but feel pulled towards him, like your legs moved before you could even think. When you got close enough, Kage took your wrist into his grip. There was a beat of silence for a moment before he yanked you down. You yelped as you fell, your stomach hitting his thighs as he bent you over his knees. It was a humiliating position. As if they hadn’t caused you enough shame.

As naked as the day you were born, you lay across his legs, your ass raised, and shoulders slumped. There was no escape. You were under no illusion that there was no way you could reasonably get out without help. And without Bucky, or any of your friends, you were stuck.

You felt as if you hadn’t slept at all, and tiredness nipped at the back of your eyes as you resigned yourself in his lap. He seemed pleased, a near silent grunt sounding as he rubbed circles over the globes of your ass.

When the first slap landed, you yelped, a sharp pain on your ass from the impact of his palm.

“One.” You heard him count under his breath, before the second spank hit. “Two.” Tears gathered in your eyes, small droplets hitting the ground below as the third hit landed. “Three.”

“Why?” You croaked out. “Why are you doing this?”

“Four.” Kage uttered, another slap hitting you and causing your body to jolt. Four. The counting continued despite your pleas, the pain worsening with each hit. He wasn’t holding back, and the pain began to elevate to the point where you felt as if your bones may shatter. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Please, I don’t understand. I’m sorry- I’m s-sorry I said his name. But I didn’t do it on purpose,” your words are mottled with sobs, and you turned back to look at him despite the way you had coiled around his thighs. “I don’t understand. Why do you hate him?”

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

Kage’s icy glare met yours. In just a look alone he conveyed so much emotion, far more than words could ever express. There was anger and hurt all broiled up in a stew of self-pity. Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine. His spanks didn’t stop, not even when your cries resounded off the walls like a ghoulish orchestra, your begs garbled with the agony coursing through you.

“Thirty,” he coldly said, his hand once against slapping against your abused ass. When he brought up his hand for another hit, he stopped. On his palm was little dots of blood. You whimpered at the sight of it, and his eyes narrowed. He’d been hitting you so hard he’d broken skin with the impact.

“Please, why? What’s going on?” You lamented, growing weary of his silence. “Just tell me. Why do you hate him? What did he do?”

Kage hit you again, more aggressive this time. You howled in pain as he held you still. His breaths came out in a huff as he calmed himself down. “Don’t act dumb. You’re his girlfriend. You know what he’s done.”

“I don’t!” You rebutted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Kage’s steel blue eyes flashed with something dangerous, his hand rubbing circles on your skin and smearing your blood across your flesh. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You were genuine, and Kage’s eyes narrowed as he considered you. “I’m sure you did some research before taking me. I’m just a girl.”

”What, your boyfriend didn’t brag of the lives he ruined? How he ruined our lives. We’re orphaned freaks because of him. Because the Asset couldn’t just do his fucking mission. But he had no problem doing his job just fine when he trained us, when he beat us to a bloody pulp making us wish were dead. Over and over and over again. Hydra’s fist hits fucking hard. And he leaves behind nothing but lost souls.” It’s the most you’ve heard Kage speak, but what he’s saying makes no sense to you. “The Asset doesn’t care about the wreckage he leaves behind as long as he’s happy – as long as he can continue on with his pathetic life.”

Bucky ruined lives? The surprise and confusion on your face said it all. From what you knew, he didn’t do anything. He was a prisoner of war, he was a soldier, but his involvement with Hydra was news to you. The most you’d heard of the organisation was from reports when the triskelion fell. It was broadcast everywhere. “He didn’t tell me anything. I only know who Hydra are from the news.”

Kage let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "Stop lying."

"I'm not! I swear. He never told me. He doesn't tell anything about his missions either. H-He said he couldn't. That it was safer that way." You remembered the first time Bucky came home from a mission. He was covered in soot and a mess. Being naive, you asked him what happened, and it was then you realised it was better for you not to know. The horrors of the world were not for your eyes… until now.

Kage’s fingers gripped into the plushness of your ass. ”But you’ve been to the compound.”

“As a guest - a friend. Never when a mission was happening.” You sobbed, your brain spinning in circles at the new revelations. “I’ve been there for dinner or parties. Nothing else.”

His nails made divots in your skin as he gripped you. "You really had no idea?"

"No, I didn't. And I'm sorry. For all of you," you hiccupped. You couldn't lie about that. Losing family is never easy. "I didn't know."

Kage didn’t seem convinced. ”But you know of Hydra?”

You shrugged best you could over his knee. “Sort of. N-Not really. I just saw the news when those big helicopter things crashed - uh, helicarriers?” You let out a shuddered sigh. “The news said Hydra was behind it.”

His fingers eased, moving to rub over the sensitised skin. ”Did you read the documents that were leaked?”

You shook your head, tears dropping to the floor. “No, why would I do that? I didn’t need an existential crisis. I get stressed enough about everyday news, like a mugger or a cat stuck in a tree.”

"So he kept you in a bubble," he said after a moment, more to himself than to you. "If you're lying—"

"I'm not," you promised, almost dissolving into more tears. "I swear to you. All of you. I have no reason to lie to you."

There was a beat of silence while your mind ran a million miles an hour. Bucky was a prisoner of war, you knew that – the world knew that. But… he was with Hydra? You pursed your lips. There was no way he would have been with them willingly. He was a prisoner of Hydra, you surmised. He’d made comments in the past about never being in control until now – always being ordered around by someone else. Admittedly, you hadn’t taken it as literal. A soldier takes orders, but this – this seems entirely different. There’s no way Bucky would hurt someone unprovoked, not unless he was being controlled. The man you loved was no villain.

Kage broke the silence. ”Do you resent him for not telling you?”

A heavy sigh left you, pain still flickering up your spine from your abused ass. “It’s his story. I’m not the one who can decide when it’s time to tell it.”

"But he's the reason you're here,” Kage said as his hand ran up your back before reaching your shoulders, pulling you up and guiding you to sit in his lap.

You whimpered at the pressure on your bruised skin as you sat on Kage’s thighs. "Better me than another innocent person."

Kage’s face was close to yours, his breath fanning across your skin. ”You wouldn’t trade places with someone else?”

You tried to move back, to get some distance, but Kage held you firm. “No. I couldn’t bring myself to subject someone else to this kind of pain.”

He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes. "You don't like others hurting, do you?"

The question surprised you. "No, I don't. I've always tried to help others if I can."

Your answer has the air in the room changing, some of the coldness turning a bit warmer as Kage brushed away some of your tears. Your blood was still on his hands, and you eyed the redness of his fingers as he touched your face.

A tremble coursed through you when you heard footsteps approaching, and your attention turned to the doorway, where Damien emerged with a salve, some wipes and fresh clothes.

His expression had changed too. Where there was anger was now a new understanding. They really thought you knew what they’d been through, you realised. You glanced between the two men, uncomfortable and distressed. Their anger was ruthless, but you feared whatever this was more. Kage’s hands over your waist were firm, but with an edge of gentleness.

You didn’t want them to like you.

Maybe you should have just lied and said you knew. But that wasn’t you. You weren’t deceptive.

Kage lifted you easily, placing you face down on your cot, your face wetting the fresh sheets below you as you cried. The overstimulation of your body and mind hit like a freight train, and you sobbed like never before.

“Jesus, try to calm down. You’ll make yourself sick,” Damien tried to placate as he sat next to you, wiping away your blood before beginning to apply some ointment to your battered skin. “You really did a number, Kage.”

You glance over at the blonde, and he didn’t seem proud of himself. Quite the opposite. His jaw clenched. “Shut up.”

“Hey hey, I’m just trying to break the tension here.” Damien kept applying the ointment until your welts were covered. “You took your punishment well.”

You think he’s trying to compliment you, so you respond with your head buried in the sheets. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he quickly responded before finishing up.

Your mournful cries didn’t stop, and they only got worse when Kage and Damien finally left, leaving you alone. You dressed yourself in the plain tshirt and panties, before it all became too much and returned to the bed.

All your bottled-up emotions spilled out into the mattress. You screamed, your sounds muffled by the bedding, not stopping until your throat hurt and your voice was course.

The more emotion you let out, the more fatigued you became. And slowly, you began to pass out, crying yourself to sleep. All you could hope was this sleep was more restful, and less eventful than the last.

Thankfully, you didn’t dream this time. Your rest was no more than a limbo between horrors – horrors which seemed very intent on continuing, with Maddox stood with his arms crossed, watching you slumber as he leaned against the open doorframe. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You nearly jumped through the ceiling in fright at the sight of him, your whole body flinching as you sat up, your bruised ass instantly sore from the movement. “You didn’t.”

“Good.” He tilted his head, the anger he’d been sporting gone behind his normal demure expression. “So, I had a chat with the guys. Look, we thought you knew all about us. And now we realise you really are innocent in all this. We feel a bit bad about the whole situation, so we’re going to let you go home.”

It sounded like a foreign language as Maddox spoke, your heart skipping a beat. “You’re going to let me go?”

“Seems only fair. I think we’ve put you through enough,” Maddox shrugged nonchalantly.

“But you were so angry,” you cautiously observed Maddox. It felt like a trick, and it likely was one, but you couldn’t help the desire that smouldered in your heart. You could go home. More than anything you just desired to be comfortable in your own bed again, with your cat and the love of your life.

Maddox pushed himself off the doorframe and approached, the movement making you shuffle back on the mattress. He chuckled, shaking his head at your scurrying. “I have no intent of hurting you.”

“Surely you can’t blame me for being afraid,” you squeaked as he towered over you.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve given you more than enough reason. But here, truce?” Maddox offered his open palm for you to take, to help you stand. You stared at his hand for a moment, taking in the scarred skin. It looked like he held the sharp end of a knife more than once. They weren’t kidding about having been through pain.

Anxiety was a thick sludge in your throat as you placed your hand in his, allowing him to be a crutch for you as you got onto your feet. Your entire backside hurt like something fierce with each movement, but you tried to not show it too much on your face.

“Kage really let you have it, huh?” Maddox grinned, leading you out of the door and to the left, where Kage and Damien stood at the bottom of concrete stairs.

“Ready to go home?” Kage said as Damien took your free hand in his.

“Yes,” you blurted out honestly. “Are you… are you really going to let me go?”

“Of course. We may be assholes, but we’re not liars,” Damien chided, the warmth from his skin heating your hand.

“What about Bu– I mean, my boyfriend?” You questioned, making wobbly steps up the stairs towards what looked to be a basement door. Your suspicions were right - you were underground.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him. That’s our business to attend to,” Maddox grinned, but it was akin to a shark showing their teeth. There was danger in the way he spoke.

Distracted, you missed a step, but they were quick to catch you, all giving out a soft laugh before you made your way to the top of the stairs.

You had guessed that you were underground. What you hadn’t expected was that you were under a house. You emerged into an open-plan living room and kitchen with a rustic aesthetic. 

“Do you like it?” Damien asked proudly. Clearly, he owned this place.

“... It’s nice.” You placated, taking your hand out of both Maddox and Damien’s grip. “I can.. just go?”

“Yes. Off you go. There’s a car outside waiting for you,” Damien said, and you could feel the soft rumble of a running engine through the floorboards.

You glanced back at the men, each of them looking expectantly at you. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before you turned around and bolted for the front door, despite your body hating every moment. Your feet were still healing, and with your bruised muscles, it was torture. But you wanted out. No, you needed out.

You reached the front door quickly, and when you turned the knob, your eyes went wide. It was locked tight. There were multiple bolts on the door, which all seemed unlocked, but when you looked down, you realised the front door had a finger scanner. 

Reality began to set in when you placed your finger on the door and were met with a red flash and beeping. Access denied. “No... No, no, no. Not like this.”

You went to turn, but before you could, there was a sharp prick to your neck as one of the men plunged a needle into you. It became clear Maddox was your assailant as your legs went numb, and you tumbled to the ground with a gasp, seeing him standing behind you with dark eyes. Whatever the contents of the syringe were acted quickly, an odd floaty feeling spreading across your body as you lost control of your functions, your body stuck on its front on the cold hardwoods.

Their laughter became distorted as your brain fizzled, but you didn’t pass out. No, whatever they’d given you was keeping you awake, forced to watch as they circled your limp body. “She made it further than I thought she would with her injuries,” Damien smirked as he poked your side with his shoe.

“It’s cute in an utterly pathetic way.” Maddox used his boot to roll you onto your back before leaning down near your head. “Aw, is someone feeling a bit sleepy?” Unable to coil away, Maddox spit in your face with a cruel laugh. “C’mon, wake up, it’s playtime.”

Kage was next to torment you as you tried to roll yourself back onto your stomach to crawl away. His boot pressed painfully into your stomach, the steel tip digging in just below your ribcage. “Knock my foot away. Try it.”

You whined as you tried to use your arms to push him away, but you couldn’t. Your arms were like jelly.

“Mm, as fun as this is, we gotta move.” Maddox sighed as he straightened up, discarding the used needle out of your sightline.

You managed to get onto your stomach with Kage backing off, but all you could do was whimper as hands gripped your ankles, dragging you across the hardwoods and out the front door, your nose banging on the solid surface as you tried to dig your nails into the floor, but you had no strength left.

Your drool and blood from your now bleeding nose created a trail across the floor. At least if anyone found this home, there’d be evidence that you existed, your DNA staining the wood.

“Should we change her?” Damien asked, and from his voice, you could tell he was the one dragging you.

“She’ll be warm enough,” Maddox watched from the side as you were dragged to the porch stairs.

“God, she’s not going to piss in my car, is she?” Damien complained as Kage slung you over his shoulder, your body like a ragdoll, as he lifted you with scary ease.

“Just wrap a towel around her ass. It’ll do.” Maddox began putting bags in the back seat of the SUV parked outside.

Damien began to help him, but not without continuing to complain. “Just watch it. She already bled on my floor.”

Maddox laughed. “She bled all over her apartment and you didn’t even blink.”

“But that wasn’t my apartment,” Damien argued, a playful irritation in his tone.

They were having fun while tear droplets hit the gravel below you.

Maddox wasn’t giving up, though. ”You’re so materialistic sometimes, Dami.”

”When you pay for shit you can be too, Mads. Oh wait, you don’t pay for anything.”

”I’ve saved your ass enough times for payment.”

Kage sighed, his hand resting on your exposed ass. ”Would you two just shut up and help me get her in the car? I can do it myself, but then I’ll make sure blood and piss gets everywhere.”

Maddox sighed, too. "Yeah, yeah. Gimme a second. You leave the present in her cell?"

"Yeah. They'll find it."

You tried to speak, but only a groan came out. 

"Try not to talk. It won't do you any good.” Kage said as Maddox helped him haul you into the trunk of the car.

”At first, we couldn’t get you to talk, and now you won’t shut up.” Maddox started to wrap a towel around your lower half. "Just put some music on and drown her out."

“You… lied…” You managed to get out amongst your drooling whimpers.

Kage leaned in, his hand caressing your cheek. “We didn’t. You are going home.”

“Just not to the home you hoped for,” Maddox chimed in, derisively patting your thigh. “Rest up, babydoll. There’s a long journey ahead of us yet.”

Kage and Maddox pulled back, and their faces were the last thing you saw before the boot was slammed shut, and you were covered in darkness.

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[smallraindrops-blog]

Sacred Ingredients

Zagreus/Male!reader 

Fandom: Hades (2019 game)

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: There was a new cook in the house

warnings: Implied reader death, no beta.

Notes:

The fic that is the reason yall have been seeing so many food posts lately.

This is the first response for the wholesome Zagreus x male reader request. I took my time with this since I wasn’t sure if I was following the prompt.

To the anon, thanks for the wait. If this isn’t what you wanted, please lmk and I will be happy to redo it. I do hope you enjoy this one.

Important: often people would use other names for the gods to avoid bringing unnecessary attention to themselves. Our reader is one of those people.

Enjoy!

~

One of your first memories was of your Mom holding a small bit of cake between her fingers. 

It was made of thin layers of dough, heavy with sheep cheese, crushed nuts and honey, so heavy with it that the dipping honey caught the sunlight just before you bit in.

Sweet. Creamy. Nutty. All combining together in your mouth as you chew.

You groaned in pure delight as she laughed, getting you a plate with a much bigger piece. See? I told you that you would like it. Mama is never wrong. Not with food.

Just like that, food had became your life. To you, there was no better way to say ‘I love you’ than by cooking someone a good meal.

You learned how to perfectly roast fishes, how to stuffed chicken, the right moment to add herbs or how to use olive oils or butter to add rich flavors to the dish. You learned how to knead the bread, how to time the rise just right and the best spots in the stone ovens to place the loaf. 

Food was everything. It was the bittersweet memory of your mama’s hand on your cheek after a sickness took her far too soon, it was a way to feed your family while working hard as a fisherman, it was a way to earn your place among warriors and kings. 

You loved all of it, even as the other men had scoffed at you for enjoying women’ work. However they never turned away a meal you cooked, at home or in the war tents.

The very last thing you cooked, a recipe your mama taught you, was a simple bread, meant for dipping in wine. 

Barley flour. Dry yeast from the grapes. Then you added the simple spice mix you came up with and always added in. The one that had people waiting outside for your bakery before the markets opened.

Parsley. Rosemary. Oregano. Garlic cloves smashed up and added into the bread, and just a little dash of salt.

You had set one aside for yourself for later.

You never got to eat it. 

~

When the news came that the terrifying god of the underworld was looking for a new cook, you didn’t hesitate.

To get a spot in the house of the gods was prime time. It meant respect, a place to live and most importantly it meant regular income. That was money you can send to your mama and sisters so they can get into a better area of Asphodel.

You had spent hours over the cake. 

You made sure that each layer of the dough was perfect, thin and flakey with a satisfying bite, that the cheese was the perfect amount of tangy creaminess, that nuts were crushed to the right size, that the honey was placed in the perfect spot to complement the cheese and nuts.

This had to work because your family worked hard to get the coin to order such things from the expensive shop of the boatman.

Even the neighbors had pitched in, with the promise that you will pay them back.

You took a nervous breath as you shifted on your feet, winced as the terrifying King of Below tossed aside the meal someone brought him, promptly dismissing them. 

“And another one bites the dust.” The sleep god muttered as he crossed something off a list.

He looked up, blinking heavy downturned eyes at them. You and the other commoners were careful to keep their gazes low, not willing to show any disrespect to any of the gods.

The gentle one huffed and gestured for the one before you to go ahead. You were up after this, assuming that the person before you didn’t have something amazing. 

The underworld King made a loud gagging sound and wordlessly dismissed the shade. Gentle one only clicked his tongue as he crossed out another line and shook his head, white curls flopping around. 

“Good luck, buddy.” He told you with a cheerful grin, using his quill to point to the desk.

Did the gods normally call people buddy?

With a deep breath, you went to the looming desk, feeling like you were meeting the fates themselves. 

“And what is this?” The King of those below growled, his haunting eyes locked onto you like a predatory bird. His hellhound shifted next to him, their three noses twitching at the food.

“This is a plakous, my lord.” You said, proud that your voice was stronger than you expected. “Made with wheat dough, rich honey-“

The King held up a large hand and you stopped speaking, fearing you had already lost your chance. A shade took the plate from you and brought it to their master. 

You held your breath as he took the first bite, your heart no longer beat but you swore you felt it in that moment, slamming against your chest. He chewed slowly and his bloody red eyes slowly went wide.

A hush fell over the grand hall.

Then the King did something he didn’t do with any other meal, he went back for a second bite.

After that bite, he peered down at you for a long, long time.

“Is this all you can cook?” His voice broke over you like thunder. You shook your head, your hands curled up nervously 

“No, my lord. I have created meals for kings and I can cook many things. Meat of all kinds. And bread, vegetables and so on.” You wished you were a more eloquent man, but that had never been needed before.

Not to mention such an education was beyond your reach.

And your food alway did the talking for you. 

The king took a third bite then tossed the rest to the hellhound, the animal eating in a single swipe of its tongue. The tail wagged once, thumping on the floor. 

The Wealthy One nodded slowly.  “You may start today.”

~

The kitchen size alone would have made your mama weep with joy. The amount of fresh produce, herbs and clean grains along with plenty of meat made your jaw drop. 

You clapped your hand together in thought then…You hit the ground running. 

There was an endless list of tasks to be done before the kitchen would be ready to open and you went through all the tasks with horse blinders on, determination fueling you.

The first meal you officially served Master was a few of salted and peppered trout with a garlic lemon sauce with butter and herbs along with a hearty lentils soup, warm sourdough bread for the soup and sauce.

You added a fresh cucumber salad along with a large plate filled with cheeses and fruits that would compliment the fish.

When the plates came back, clean of even a drop of sauce, you felt something loosen in your chest. 

~

Eventually you began to learn the house's routine and the many shades. You learned to always have some type of bread readied with olive oil. 

You learned what went fast and what you had to jazz up to get rid of. 

The most important lesson you had learned in life and one that remained unchanged even now was that most souls just wanted something that tasted like home. 

It was toward the end of the kitchen hours when you heard someone take a seat.

Even at this late hour and working alone, you weren’t one to turn away a hungry soul so after wiping your hands on your apron, you turned with a smile.

“Welcome! What can I…” your words trailed off, your eyes going wide as you realized who was sitting in one of the barstools.

The Prince of the underworld gave you an exhausted, crooked grin. There was a curious gleam in those mismatched eyes, the strong lines of his cheeks softened by the dim lights of the lounge.

He was inhumanly beautiful in the ways all divine beings were.

But there was something different to his handsomeness.

Unlike the soft loveliness of Sleep, the sleek grace of the Fury or the dark shocking beauty of Night herself, this god before looked almost moral like. It was his eyes that revealed his godhood. It was the power in his broad shoulders.

You were surprised by how much you liked it.

“So you are the new cook everyone is raving about.” The Prince said, leaning on his forearms to peer at you. You saw the strength in his arms, his quick grace as he moved. Strong and muscular with thick tendons upward from the knuckles. 

It was clear this god was a warrior of a sort.

Your eyes flickered down in embarrassment when you realized you were being disrespectful in your staring. 

“I believe so, your highness.” You said, bowing your head in a show of respect for his position. “How may I serve you?” 

“Honestly?” The Prince leaned, scanning the area behind you. “Whatever you have will work. The last cook we had working here would just give us sliced onions if we came in this late. Once he gave Hypnos a single apple peel for daring to ask for something else.”

He sounded amused, chuckling to himself at the memory. It was a nice laugh, deep and rich.

You couldn’t imagine being so rude to the gods. Your mom was a pious woman and even a quiet sigh during prayers would get you a disapproving look.

With a nod, you went to get the Prince his meal and drink.

Thankfully you had a leftover trout and tossed one onto the grill to cook as you prepared a bowl of cabbage for him, added in spices along with honey vinegar and silphium.

You had some bread and garlic cheese so you plated those as well with olives and grapes.

You decided to give him a rich red that most enjoyed, filling it up to the brim.

“Oh wow.” The prince muttered as you set everything in front of him and with a bow, you rushed back to the fish, flipping it over. Once it was ready with some garlic butter sauce, you brought it to him. 

“Please let me know if you would like for me to serve you more or cook something else for you.” You told him and the prince blinked at you, his mouth filled with bread and cheese. 

The prince waved a hand before you left him for his meal. He drank the wine deeply before placing it back down. You immediately refilled it. “This is plenty, my good shade. Thank you.”

With a respectful nod, you resumed cleaning up the kitchen. Counters got wiped down, supplies restocked but it wasn’t the usual relaxing routine it normally was.

You felt the weight of those divine eyes on you. The Prince was quiet as he ate but you caught quick glimpses of his curious gaze on the shine of the plates, or reflection in your knives.

It was only when the Prince left that you let yourself breathe.

~

Master liked large meals but only if they could be eaten quickly. The only thing you had been warned never to add was pomegranates. No one would tell you why.

The Gorgon, the creature was surprisingly sweet for all the horrible tales you heard of her kind, ate in a rush as well.

If you were smarter, maybe you could have made a clever joke about how the lowest server and the King of the Underworld ate the same way.

But one look into her smiling face held your tongue. She was always kind so you would be so in return.

The Fury was a regular companion of hers, requesting simple meals of fish and some types of roasted vegetables. Mostly she would drink deeply, often you would have a pitcher of wine put aside for her. 

Sometimes Dreaded Death would join her, unwelcoming to all and cool. He rarely ordered any food, his fingers drumming on the table sounded like funeral marches to your ears. 

His twin was the complete opposite, Gentle Sleep had a sweet tooth unlike anything else you have seen. Often he would ignore the dinner option altogether and eat slices of cake, candied figs or honeycombs. 

If you weren’t careful around the god, plates of cookies that were meant for the whole house would go missing around him. 

You still haven’t found the last two plates he stole from you.

And...

There was The Prince himself. 

He was a regular now, always sitting close to wherever your work station was that day. He also was the only one who ate anything you put on a plate for him, and would shove the meal into his mouth like a starving creature. You always made sure to give him larger servings.

“Tell me your name.”  He ordered you one day. His tone was deep, firm. Making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  “You keep feeding me delicious food, no matter the hour. And I don't know what to call you.”

Then he added with raised eyebrows, sounding more like a playful suitor than a Chthonic god. “Please?”

You considered it, your hands still on the bowl of the hardy stew just placed before the god. You stared at the stew for a moment, then at him.

Or just past him, not willing to meet the god’s eyes, life and death danced in those unusual eyes of his.

You were a moral, a simple one at that. 

You never picked up a sword, never learned all the fancy learnings that a prince might, never learned much beyond what you needed to but you knew names had powers, could decide whole destinies before a babe even wailed out their first cry. 

Names could summon the gods themselves.

Quietly, you told him.

The prince grinned at you, his smile fierce and beautiful like a victorious lion. Your breath hitched, forgetting that one was to never look the gods in the eye.

Then the next words he spoke early jumped started your heart into beating once more. 

“It suits you, my good cook. Call me Zagreus.” 

~

Later, alone in the kitchen, recipes laid in front of you, you tried to will yourself to focus.

Schooling was too costly for your family especially after your Mother’s death. Your reading went far as basic words and numbers, just enough to get by in the markets.

You never needed much. 

Right now, however, the recipes might as well be another language. 

You were too lost in thought, several times you had already caught yourself even daring to think The Prince’s name in your mind.

What would happen if you dare to…

Zagreus.

A soft noise came behind you and You whirled around, glancing everywhere as if expecting him to appear right behind you. 

He didn’t. 

You realized you heard the sounds of the Wretched Broker restocking his shelves. Thankfully, he was too busy to realize that the House’s cook had gone mad simply by learning a God’s name. 

Maybe you should start wearing a pot on your head.

“Zagreus.” You whispered, fingernails digging your palm nervously. “Zagreus.”

When the god didn’t appear, you didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved.

~

Slowly, you learned more. 

There were the loud fights between Father and Son that would cause the house to rattle. Many shades would escape into the lounge, hands over their ears.

”Tell me, do you get along with your father?” Zagreus grumbled, his plate cleared of any crumbs. His legs were bouncing, filled with an endless energy you knew you would never be able to match. 

“No.” You said, not wanting to think of that man. You knew he was somewhere in the underworld but the less you knew, the better. “I suspect few do.”

Once, over a glass of white wine and a simple meal of sourdough bread and warm vegetable soup, He told you was looking for his mother.  

“You will find her. I know you will.” You told him quietly, holding his stare. “Have faith, Zagreus.”

Another time, over a cake from a new recipe you came up with, Zagreus asked about you. Maybe it was the exhaustion after a successful dinner rush but you told him everything. 

His smile was warm, his eyes watchful of your every move as you told him of your family and their new place you brought for them. 

Your cheeks flushed when you realized he was staring at you.

“I will have to stop by then.” He teased, his hand almost brushing against yours. 

“Yes.” You agreed in a whisper, your mouth suddenly dry.

~

“Cook me your favorite meal.” Zagreus ordered one day, not even bothering to sit down. You lifted a cool eyebrow, well used to his impulsiveness by now.  

“Hello, Zagreus.” You greeted dryly, wiping your hands on your apron, not actually that upset.

Not too long ago, you would have wilted from the thought of being so playful with a divine creature but things changed.

Zagreus brought it out of you somehow simply by being himself. 

“I am doing well, thank you.” You continued to teased despite his oddly serious expression.

Zagreus blinked, then chuckled with a bright grin. “I am a horrible influence on you, I fear.”

You laughed, cheeks flushing at his smile. “I am afraid so, your Highness. Now what is this about a favorite meal?”

“Yours. I want to know what your favorite food is.” 

“Oh.” You grabbed an apple, rolling it in your hands for something to do. Butterflies dancing in your stomach as Zagreus leaned in, his hands on the counter. This close, you caught the scent of copper.

unwillingly, your gaze tangled with his, caught like a fly in a complex web. A stray thought reached you, could a mere fly understand the geometric structure, beauty of such things?

You swallowed nervously. “It’s nothing special, Zagreus. Just something my mom cooked up for me.”

Zagreus narrowed his eyes, his jaw firm in his resolve. “Excellent, then. I trust you have all the ingredients you need?”

You nodded but opened your mouth to dissuade the prince from his idea, however he was already walking away, “I expect a meal to be waiting for me when I get back!”

~

One day, staring at a wooden spoon in your hand, cake batter dipping from the tip, you realized that Zagreus had became someone very, very dear to you. 

Morals and gods didn't mix together well. At least, not for the morals. Cracked eggs and spilled milk and all left would be a big mess with no one to clean it. 

What did it mean when a shade, a mere ghost of who you were, was in love with a god that shone like the sun, whose very presence made you felt like you were alive once more?

~

When Zagreus returned, his hair was still damp from the Styx river and you had to look away from his beauty.

Quietly, you put the final touches on your favorite meal. You swallowed nervously as you picked up the plate and went over to him. 

Thin layers of dough. Creamy cheese. Crushed nuts. Honey.

A long ago memory of your mom's smiling face as she watched you take a bite. Sunlight made her golden and immortal in that singular moment in your very heart.

You offered it up like the cake was a sacrifice, like you were offering yourself up to the god to make the final decision of the worth of your mortal soul.

“This is the first thing I can remember my mom making for me.” You whispered, your work rough fingers curled nervously against the counter. “This meal is what got me a job here. I got to know you because of this cake.”

Zagreus took a small bite, then closed his eyes in bliss. He said your name with a weight that you never heard before. 

When he looked at you, his expression gentle and hopelessly fond, there was no need for more words. 

~

When he kissed you for the first time, he tasted like home. 

[baelpenrose]

Alright, action plan for the Left

I keep telling anti-Voting advocates "okay so what's your plan" and they keep asking me, "okay but what's yours" Alright, bet. It exists in three parts.

Phase 1: Apotheosis Denied. Republicans have spent the last 40 years playing a very long game in order to weaken institutions in ways that only benefit them - jerrymandering, weakening institutions at state and local levels, and seizing supreme court, in order to make something like Project 2025 a reality, but it has also led to a critical fracturing of their party. At this point, they are making one desperate gambit to seize power, and if it fails, they will have a critical fracture in their party as the authoritarian wing, now a cult of personality around trump, attempts a second violent coup and is met with the violence of the state and is curbstomped into the dirt. The resulting republican realignment will be frantic, and leave them in a much weaker position - no less fascist, but weaker. Our first step, right now, because we are so far behind, has to be to deny them the apotheosis of their 40 year long game. Phase 2: Parallel Systems. There are multiple components to this one and this is where the government is going to get a little more concerned. This can start NOW, and should start NOW, but continue in tandem with phase 3. Phase 2.1: United Labor - Join the IWW. Join a union. Look into unionizing your workplace. Regardless of how small a difference you think it makes, increasing the power of labor decreases corporate power, full stop.

Phase 2.2: Mutual Aid: Set aside a certain percentage of your income each month - doesn’t have to be a lot, but just a certain amount, that you can budget for each month for helping your community. Make helping other people part of the budget. Creating this simple system, if enough people do it, will limit the reliance on corporate and state control. Do not exceed this - you will expend your resources and wind up needing to rely on others and then overdraw. Keep it to within what you can give.  Further, budget a certain amount of TIME each week to doing something that serves your community (see below as well) and getting to know them. 

Phase 2.3: Community Networking: Engage with your community in real life, outside. Set aside a certain amount of time each week to do this. If it’s working with underprivileged kids or providing childcare, taking care of the elderly, etc. You can go to a sewing circle and start talking to the people there and bring salvaged clothing that you repair and donate and talk them into doing something similar. Work your hobbies into it! Can you sew? Knit? Scarves and ponchos are never a bad thing, and you can show people how to do it - or swap labor for something you need.. Can you do carpentry? Repair furniture for people who need it, and odds are you can give lessons to people for free and put on a workshop - or swap labor for things you need. Start building these networks in your community. Also, anyone who has a yard? Start looking towards native food-bearing plants. If you’re rural, look into ethical hunting and community cookouts. Kill feral pigs, especially. There’s a shit ton of them, they’re invasive, and they’re tasty, and a cookout of them will bring people together. 

Phase 2.4: Community Accountability/Mentoring. Do you have problems in the community with crime? Kids being assholes? Have you considered, rather than calling the cops, giving the kids something to do so they aren’t shitheels? Hooking them up with mentors who can give them skills or help them explore their passions? Providing programs with volunteering? Get involved at your school as well, or form a parent group for it, this will help reduce how many of your kids wind up in the school to prison pipeline. 

Phase 2.5: Community Defense: Arm. Odds are you have at least a few disaffected veterans in the community who know the government screwed them and their families who are willing to train you to defend yourselves and who will be happy to be asked to do so - and easy enough to radicalize if they spend time with other people the state is fucking over. It doesn’t have to be everyone in the community, but realistically, you should have at least a few able-bodied people with guns from every community who are practicing with firearms and tactics to protect their community from the fascists as things escalate. This will allow considerably better protection in the event of a shooting or similar.  Phase 2.6: Community Assets: Every community should develop a battery of people who can provide at least some degree of help in a variety of situations. Become trained in first aid, CPR, etc. You won't be as good as a doctor, but you can still help. Have a community garden or three. Develop a neighborhood mechanic. Develop a neighborhood seamstress or carpenter if you know one. Trade services. Watch each other's kids.

Phase 3: Electoral Counterstroke This phase exists in two parts: Phase 3.1: Divide and Conquer: Further hasten the crumbling of the republican party. While it realigns, it will do so into a number of factions, the one most likely to win is the authoritarian, christian, culture war, racist wing. You have the ability, if you approach gun nuts and "small government" conservatives (which still exist in many areas of the country) to discuss with them their options. They will NEVER vote democrat or green or left - and they will never be leftists. BUT. They will be easy to convince to splinter from fascism and join a right-wing Libertarian party. They won't be on our side, but their defection from the fascists serves us still in that it splits a right wing further and makes a divided left much less of a gamble.

Phase 3.2: Left Surge Okay, so flat out? This year, Jasmine Sherman is not a viable candidate. They should be, by all rights, but they are not. This is partially due to ballot access tampering, but also partially because far-left candidates have a bad habit of starting their homework five minutes before class starts and then wondering why they don't get a good grade. We have four years to figure out how to get them ballot access in all 50 states, and we need to accomplish that goal, and ensure that they actually are on the ballot in all 50 states in 2028. A vote for them in 2024 is wasted, a vote for them in 2028 should not be unless we've all fucked up to a ridiculous degree. (Yes, I know they have it in 48 states. One of the two where they DON'T because both the democrats and the green party bent over backwards to stop them is CALIFORNIA. You know, the state that no left-wing candidate can win without because of our whopping 55 electoral votes. I mean it when I say they need it in all 50. We can get them there by 2028 if we aren't stupid.)

Further, your local elections should be contested. That public defender who tries to keep juvenile offenders out of jail? Push him to run as a judge and rally as much support as possible. Push left wing retired teachers to run for school board and help them run their campaigns. Push librarians who have lost their libraries to right wing culture war nonsense to run for school board. Politics is local and controlling local power controls most of the governing.

In the senate races, the party machines in almost every state have a lock, so what you're going to do is vote the farthest left democrat you can, consistently, and force the dems to move towards us. This will damage the republican obstruction capacity and begin hijacking the democratic party and make us a block the dems MUST appease.

In the House, you vote radicals, and try to encourage other radicals to run. Where possible, vote green or left-wing third party, where not, repeat the strategy in the Senate.

For state legislature, there's more play for independents - check your state races, these vary a lot more, and to be honest I am much, much more aware of my own state's political machinery than I am aware of anyone else's to the point that any advice I gave on this point would really only be relevant to CA.

There you go, actionable, intelligent planning for the next decade of how the left can effectively sieze power and specific things YOU can do to make the situation better.

[orbitswritings]

a neteyam/fem!human reader series. word count: 3k

Chapter 1 (here)

Chapter 2

future NSFW content/smut, breeding kink

synopsis: Neteyam and you are in a secret relationship because you’re a sky demon and he’s the clan’s future Olo'eyktan, so you have to keep it secret. However, one day his parents finally catch on, and Neteyam is told to stop any contact with you immediately. Unfortunately for them, he has a plan that he hopes will ensure you two can be together.

note: chapter 1 is here! nearly all the other chapters for this are about done too, i just need to do some more editing and ill have them up.

tags: @neteyamwifesstuff @christinechickiee @heaven1oo4

Chapter 1

The village was empty. Not surprising, all the other Na’vi having taken refuge to get away from the incoming storm. But Neteyam knew something was up, he just knew. What it exactly was was yet to be determined since nothing was out of the ordinary, but his nerves were on alert through a prickly feeling that wouldn’t leave his stomach. The rumbling storm must’ve been a warning by Eywa. Before, when he was still with you, the sky had been clear and bright as one would pray for. It wasn’t until after dropping you off at your studio and beginning his flight to home that the sky took a sudden turn for the worst. He and his ikran fought against the increasing winds, pushing through the growing storm as it progressively continued to gain in strength. Now inside the village, it was just beginning to unleash; the dark clouds opened with a loud crack of lightning, sending water pouring down. He increased his speed towards his family’s shared kelku. Before entering, Neteyham couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment, the uncertain feeling within him churning even more. Despite the apprehension, he shook his head and entered. Unfortunately, his gut feeling was entirely correct. Inside, he felt his heart rate pick up in speed, seeing only his father and mother, their backs turned to him.  Normally during a storm like this his entire family would be squished inside, taking shelter together. His flickering ears picked up some mumbling between his parents, their quiet words indiscernible, but the strain in their tone apparent.  The building tension in Neteyam finally snapped, his body becoming cold, the drastic drop in his body temperature made the Na’vi sharply inhale his breath. Hearing him, his parents turned their attention from one another to look at their son. The looks on their faces were nothing Neteyam, their golden firstborn, had ever been the subject of. Instead, both their gazes were piercing and cold. Neteyam could still discern the subtleties within each of them; his father was struggling, forcing himself to keep up the appearance of strong disapproval and anger. Meanwhile, his mother’s was of just pure, undiluted force- barely tethered by an impressive amount of resolve she found within. Her intention was clear: to put an immediate stop to whatever unsightly connection had blossomed outside of her approval. His mother’s strong will and determination made him already know that this wasn’t going to be a discussion. If that still wasn’t enough, her sheer disdain of sky demons was just the catalyst. His father was just being dragged along. It didn’t matter if his father was less definite on this, Neytiri had more than enough fury to fill the gaps of his father’s hesitation. Neteyam knew exactly what spurned this. It occurred earlier today, when outside his better judgment, something happened. A moment that exposed the real feelings you two had for one another. Neteyam swallowed down the growing knot in his throat, struggling with his self control to not outright mirror his parents’ glare. Turning away, Neteyam feigned ignorance. “What is it?” He asked with a obviously constrained tone, removing his bow from around his shoulder to set it aside with a little more firmness than usual. He was internally fighting to keep himself in check, something he never needed to force before. He disliked conflict with his parents, something instilled in him as a young Na’vi child. All his life he tightly held himself to high standards of not just being only a good role model to his younger siblings, but to all the Na’vi, and he excelled in just that. Now though, he felt himself fighting to keep from coming undone. Two paths laid ahead of him, one of feuding and the other of dutiful respect, and the other of doing whatever it took to protect you from the incoming attack.“You know exactly what this is about.” Neytiri hissed, rapidly closing the distance between her and her son. Neteyam flinched but stood his ground, staring holes into his mother’s eyes. Jake also went forward as well, his eyes nervously glancing between his son and his wife, considering whether he would need to put himself in between them. “How? How could you do this?” Neytiri exclaimed. “You, you, Neteyam! Us, your family, your clan! Befriending that sky demon, spending all your time with- I bit my tongue, I had to pray to Great Mother for the strength to tolerate it, but this?!” Neytiri took a sharp inhale, her nostrils wildly flaring as her lips flattened into a near non-existent line. His mother’s eyes were engulfed with a fury Neteyam himself had never been the sole focus of. Despite her enraged voice, a hint of hurt was detectable. That facet was keeping Neteyam inline, the smallest piece of shame.

Her voice lowered. “I would never even imagine this of Lo’ak, but coming from you?” She hissed through clenched teeth. Neteyam felt his upper lip twitch. “But what? What behavior, mother?” Neteyam pressed again, leaning forward slightly to press into his mother’s aggression. His feigning ignorance was clearly artificial, mocking. Neteyam was indirectly admitting guilt, but he still wanted his mother to say it out loud, own what she knew. Neytiri only snarled and bared her fangs, her curling tail rapidly flicking in irritation. She looked like a cat ready to pounce, clearly teetering on whether or not to claw her firstborn’s eyeballs out. Jake took the initiative and stepped in, forcing himself between the two. Jake raised his hands, giving his wife a silent but telling look to calm herself. He then turned to his son. “A clan member saw you and . . . your sky perso being more . . . more than friends.” Jake’s eyes flicked over to Neytiri’s for approval of his phrasing. Jake silently prayed there wasn’t a need to go any further in detail. The muscles of Neteyam’s jaw flexed as he tightly ground his teeth together, his eyes staring into the floor. Yes, your relationship with one another had progressed, much longer ago than his parents would guess. It was secretive, both of you understanding that the second it was found out there was going to instant uproar, like now for instance. So today must’ve been found out. You two had worked so hard to keep it under wraps, a shared understanding that letting anyone know any further was going to be looked upon in a unfairly negative light by not only your fellow humans, but most severely, his clan. The feelings were too just strong. Being near you, Neteyam would describe it as deep and close as a tsyhalu.  Neteyam would fly you out miles away so neither of you would be disturbed in your enjoyment of one another, all done under the excuse of helping you with your ‘research.’ Well, there was truth to it. You were still being productive, your chauffeur and bodyguard was just also your boyfriend. It was evident that Neytiri disliked you right out of the gate, especially when her son was spending so much time with you. If you were Na’vi the issue wouldn’t even have been raised, probably celebrated even. The future leader found himself a prospective mate. At the time Neytiri couldn’t protest much, since Lo’ak had his own human companion then Neteyam should be allowed one as well. At least, that’s what Jake had successfully argued. Now Jake was secretly wishing he hadn’t won that fight. He just never considered his son would develop this beyond friendship because of the obvious differences. Now, he feared how deep his son’s bond with you went. And he was right to. Jake didn’t know much, but he knew his son. For Neteyam to be acting like, so on guard and defensive, this connection wasn’t to be taken granted by any means.

It’s funny, today was the day you two actually had gathered enough gall to discuss your futures, sharing it with one another. Nothing was set in stone or even really planned, but the talk was deep and fruitful. It was heavy enough that on the trip back, as you reached your home and landed, you two broke the agreed rule of only sharing affection while far out, and shared once last moment before parting. That must’ve been when you two were spotted. By whom, well, Neteyam already had names for the three suspects. His father moved in closer. Neteyam felt the urge to throw his self control away and flip out just like his mother was just barely keeping herself from, he knew it wasn’t going to do much besides fan the flames. “You are the future leader of the clan.” Jake’s parental tone started, placing a comforting but firm hand on Neteyam’s hardened shoulders, his muscles twitching at the contact. Neteyam couldn’t meet his father’s gaze.   “You have responsibilities because of that, Neteyam. Responsibilities to the People, so you need be mated with another Na’vi. One of our kind.” Neteyam looked exacerbated. “Dad-! You were one the sky people!” Neteyam argued. It was rare, if ever, for him to be combative. But when Neteyam looked at their father’s hands, he saw the hypocrisy. Neteyam never thought in a million eclipses he’d be so passionately arguing for someone of the sky people. He found it hard to interact with them, even with the likes of Norm and Max, who more often than not got his cold shoulder. While he was greatly influenced by his mother, he didn’t share his mother’s outright disdain of the sky people. It was more like a disinterest. They lacked a queue, they couldn’t see or interact with Eywa or experience Pandora beyond whatever small, superficial bits they would scrape up and obsess over in their cold bright labs. Jake blinked, following Neteyam’s gaze. The ends of his lips twitched. “Yeah, yeah I was,” He held up his opened palm in admission. “But I gave it up- my human form, to be Na’vi. And I know that your girl,” His tone faltered on his word choice, eyes glancing between Neytiri’s wide-eyed, exasperated expression and Neteyam’s unreadable one. “-Doesn’t even have an avatar to ever transfer to.” Jake’s brows pinched together. “You two just can’t be. It’s just not right, not for you, and not for her. Think about it, Neteyam! She can’t even breathe our air!” Neteyam’s face remained like stone, but inside, he felt a hollow hole where his stomach was supposed to be. His upper lip curling into a snarl. A fire of jealousy flared within his chest. Both his parents were taken aback by the sudden and aggressive response from their usually calm child. Jake’s surprised expression quickly was fixed into a hardened, didactic one.

His father was trying to sell him on separating you two as a sacrifice for your ultimate well-being and happiness. It wasn’t fair for you to force yourself to be with him. It would just cause suffering. Neytiri was the first to shake away the initial shock, replaced with a refilled tank of anger. “Don’t you dare bare your fang at me, boy.” She hissed, shoving her finger into the face of her son. Neteyam growled but reluctantly shut his mouth, although an unhappy wrinkle from the curl of his upper lip remained.

Neteyam released the air from his lungs, shaking his head in disbelief. No, he couldn’t accept it. “But why?” He asked. “Why does it bother you so much that she isn’t Na’vi?” Neteyam asked, his strained, controlled voice edging into distress. Neytiri felt her harsh features soften. Both his parents were unable to witness their son emotionally struggle, but both knew it was best to break him now rather than later. “. . . . Because as the future leader you are to have children. You cannot do that with a sky person.”

“Well, has it ever been tried?!” Neteyam raised his voice, the strength of it shocking even him. The force was unintended, but he felt like you were there in the room with him, he needed to defend you.

Again, his parents both paused, an awkward silence filling their den as both their minds slowly processed his unexpected question. It was like both had to restart their minds in order to deal with it. This is what happens when confronting someone with such brute force in such a short amount of time since receiving the news that spurned such a moment. They should’ve given themselves more time to concoct a better strategy.

“Okay, okay, look, I’m not much of a science guy,” Jake started, clearly irritated. Oh, how he was wishing he’d payed way more attention in biology class when he was a kid, or Hell, even took a second to consult Norm or Max before this. But he didn’t think! Neytiri got all fired up, and well, he just didn’t think this exact topic would even be brought up! “But if it was even possible we would’ve known by now. Ok, someone would know.” Flimsy, bad reasoning. It sat in the back of his mind, heavy like a rock, the fact his avatar was the result of hybridization with human and Na’vi DNA . . . still, that was done with complex tinkering by brainiac scientists. There had to be something, something that he just couldn’t explain at this very second. 

“Listen, kid, you just need to accept it. As your father and your leader I am telling you, you are done with that human. Understood?”

That human. Neteyam’s mind flare in anger. It was insulting to you to be referred to as something. Jake really had no idea.Jake knew the ground was shaky and was just hoping his ultimatum would be enough to end this. Again, for the countless amount of other times in his life, Neteyam was expected to be selfless, mature, and act like the leader he was destined to be. “Yes, sir.” The words felt like bitter acid on Neteyam’s tongue, but like every other time before, he dealt with the retching disgust and bowed his head in submission.

Both his parents finally breathed, exhaling and visibly relaxing. They seemed pleased, like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. The argument had been quite intense but at least it was brief, and a consensus was reached. Unbeknownst to them, the thoughts racing through Neteyam’s mind were anything but. 

Fine. Let them pretend there’s a consensus. It’ll keep them occupied for the time being. Turning his back, Neteyam grunted about needing some time to cool down, disappearing into heavy blue showers. Mounting his ikran, he flew off in the downpour. Despite the pounding of large rain drops beating down onto his body, he did his best to take odd turns and use his knowledge of the nearby terrain to his advantage, just in case any of his family attempted to follow him. For now he guessed they wouldn’t, taking their trustworthy son at his word. Eventually he assumed, as time would tick on and he remained absent, they would get a clue about where he was going . . . just not exactly where.

While you mainly lived with the other humans at their outpost, you also had your own space; an abandoned metal trailer you took ownership of as your personal ‘study studio.’ Inside, you could peacefully do your work or whatever else without the distractions that came with the cramped shared building the rest used.

Landing outside your space, Neteyam detached his queue, sliding off onto spongey grass that squished beneath his feet. He walked through the flooded terrain, at least an inch of water having accumulated. Neteyam called out your name, then again but a little louder in case you couldn’t hear due to the massive rain droplets hammering down on your metal cabin.

A few frustrating seconds passed until he saw a small light flicker on, then a warm orange hue filling the rest of your space. The door unlocked and you slowly creaked open the heavy door.

You must’ve been sleeping and he woke you up. Your tired voice was small and suppressed from your mask plus competing with the loud onslaught of rain. He managed to catch in your tone confusion and concern. What was he doing here this late? You only just saw him a few hours ago.

“We . . . need to talk.” His voice was low and strained as he climbed up the steps. You craned your head back to see his face. His facial expression was unreadable, but the position of his pinned ears and the slight pinch between his brows gave you a big hint. Blinking a few times as your sleepy mind slowly processed, you finally stepped to the side to allow him in. He had to hunch over to slip through the doorway, but luckily the inside of your dwelling had a ceiling just high enough to accommodate him.

You struggled with your strength to push the heavy metal door closed. The hinges on the door struggled in opening. Until Neteyam added his single hand, easily shoving it closed, sealing off your cabin to the outside. Once completely closed, a pleasant beep signaled the air filters were kicking on.

Inside Neteyam’s whirling mind, he managed to hear you tell him to stay put while you got something. You dug into a nearby drawer, pulling out a towel, before handing it to the tall Na’vi male, telling him to dry yourself off.

You didn’t want your giant, dripping boyfriend to create puddles on your floorboards or worse, accidentally inflict water damage on important papers. An annoyed Neteyam groaned but complied, quickly wiping himself off.

He had to bite his bottom lip, stifling a groan as he watched you so caring apply another towel to his torso, innocently helping him in wiping off the droplets that clung to his toned form.

He probably wouldn’t be this touchy if it wasn’t for what he’d drafted in his head on the way over. You then yawned, asking him about why he was here while taking the soaked towels to the hamper. Neteyam’s face immediately hardened, his brows knitting together. He wasn’t going to take any joy in delivering the news.

“My parents know.”

[msmk11]

Wrapped Up In a Bow

Lucy Gray Baird x gn!reader

WC: 1.6k

CW: Very brief allusion to the covey struggling with money; mentions of food; but otherwise PURE FLUFF

Summary: While in town, you decide to buy Lucy Gray a thank you present. And it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that you have feelings for her.

(This was meant to be a blurb but 100% got away from me.)

Day 5 of mk’s mad dash

Being covey, you preferred to make a life out of the natural resources surrounding your home. You knew how to look for edible plants and differentiate them from poisonous ones, you could set simple snares and traps, and you drew your water from the streams nearby. It was a simple life, but not always sustainable with so many mouths to feed. Making a small amount of income from your performances at the Hob, you all had agreed to set some of it aside each week for going into town and buying the absolutely necessities from the market. And, on the rare occasion, if your week’s income had been a little more generous, you’d splurge on an indulgence.

All of the covey took turns going into town to shop, and this week it was yours. You’d gotten up extra early this morning because though the market was open until around one, you truly believed that the early bird always got the worm. You woke with the sun and set out shortly after, your old knapsack slung over your shoulder. The walk to town was about twenty minutes and you enjoyed how peaceful these early mornings were. The brooks babbled to life around you, bunnies and squirrels skittered across the forest floor, and the birds harmonized with your simple tunes. The town square was still fairly quiet at this time of the day, and only a few people milled about to the different vendors.

Though your list wasn’t long, you always joined chatting with the locals you’d slowly made friends with over the years. You playfully bargained over milk and cheese prices with Rhonda, you asked after old Joe’s kids while you sifted through his freshly baked bread, and you restocked on a few herbs while you talked with Lily about the covey’s most recent performance. Your knapsack was full in no time, but you still had a few coins jingling in your pocket. You decided to allow yourself the pleasure of visiting your favorite vendor- an older woman named Susan who sold the most beautiful trinkets. While you enjoyed the woman’s company, her goods were not ones you could often afford, so you’d only look on at them longingly as you made more responsible purchases. But with the little extra money on hand today, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to look.

Susan instantly greeted you with a warm smile, “Hello dear, it’s been a moment since I’ve seen you or your family.”

You returned her smile, “Yes, well, money’s been a little more tight recently, and we can’t bear to tempt ourselves with your beautiful things.”

You fingered the pretty ribbons, necklaces, and brooches with such a gentleness you’d think they were made of glass.

“Well you’re here today, so that gives me hope that things have been better for you,” she answered knowingly.

You smiled and nodded at her, “Yes, we’ve had a pretty good week or two. Might be ‘cos of Lucy Gray’s new songs. Quite popular with the young folk.”

“That girl sure can carry a tune, can hear it all the way from my house.”

You chuckled fondly and hoped your face didn’t betray the feelings you harbored for the songbird.

“It’s certainly a gift,” you agreed, “Think I wanna thank her for it too. Wouldn’t have this money if it weren’t for her.”

“Well I’ve got lots of pretty things for a pretty girl like her. Anything strike your interest?”

You eyed everything carefully. You wanted to find something that you truly felt embodied Lucy Gray. While she liked her floral patterns and pretty things, she was a humble girl at heart and you didn’t want to embarrass her with a gift that was too flashy.

While many may have overlooked it, a baby blue bow in the corner caught your eye.

You nodded toward it, “May I?”

With shaking hands Susan handed it to you. The bow was made of soft, smooth satin and was attached to a simple silver clip. You could already picture it resting prettily in Lucy Gray’s raven hair, pulling some of her front strands away from her face while she sang and danced on stage at The Hob. You knew it’d go just fine with that one long, blue skirt she favored that was decorated with tiny little flowers.

“I’ll take this, please.”

*****

When you arrived back home, the covey house was alive and bustlin’.

“Mornin’ all,” you greeted in a singsong tone.

Maude Ivory strayed from setting the table to run over and give you a hug.

“What’d you get in town today?” she asked excitedly.

“Well only the best for you, of course,” you answered sweetly.

You laid your knapsack out on the table and allowed her to dig through it, pulling out the bread, milk, and the likes. She held the loaf up to her nose and inhaled deeply, “Mhmm smells so fresh.”

“That’ll be real good for dinner later,” you told her, “so you best put it away so it doesn’t tempt you.”

The blonde grinned at you sheepishly and set it back on one of the counters. You walked over to Billy Taupe who was cooking at the skillet and leaned over his shoulder, “smells real good. Got my stomach grumbling already.”

“Breakfast should be ready here soon’s Tam Amber gets back from the creek.”

You nodded at him, “Thank you.”

Then, you hesitated, “Where’s Lucy Gray.”

He turned and looked at you with a knowing smirk, “Why’d you wanna know?”

You tried to act nonchalant, “‘Cos I have a present for ‘er.’”

Billy Taupe wiggled his eyebrows at you, “Whoo-whee? A present? Someone’s whipped.”

“Quit it, Billy Taupe,” you replied, slapping his arm, “Just wanted to say thanks for her songs bringing in a little extra money this week.”

“And you’re not hoping to get anything out of it in return?” A new voice added. You turned to find Barb Azure walking into the kitchen, a basket full of berries resting on her arm.

“No,” you groaned, crossing your arms, “Just wanted to be nice!”

The two only gave you more teasing looks and you huffed, “Would someone just tell me where she is, please?”

Finally, Barb Azure relented, “Out back, tending to the garden.”

You headed out to the back porch and spotted Lucy Gray in the distance instantly, crouched over some flower of hers. You traipsed down the hill with a pep in your step, excitement bubbling in your stomach. When you grew nearer, you could hear the girl humming a tune quietly.

“What’cha singing?” You asked her.

She startled a little, holding her hand to her chest, “You scared me, darling. Thought everyone was inside by now. But to answer your question, nothing in particular. Just been thinking about a melody recently.”

“Got any words yet?”

She shook her head and you swore she blushed a little, “Nah, just the tune.”

You nodded, “Well, I uh, got something for you at the market today.”

She looked up at you from her crouched position, big brown eyes shining with excitement, “For me? Whatever for?”

You looked down at your feet timidly, “Just felt like saying thank you for sharing your songs with the world. Did us some real good this week.”

Lucy Gray stood and wiped her hands on her dark brown skirt, “Well you know I’m glad people enjoyed ‘em, but I write ‘em for myself.”

“‘Course. But either way…” you hesitated and then reached into your pocket, pulling out the bow, “Here, for you.”

You thrust the pretty blue bow into her hands and she gasped softly.

“Sweetheart, this is just, beautiful. You get it from Susan’s?”

“Mhmm, the one and only. Reminded me of that pretty skirt you own. That blue one with the flowers?”

The raven-haired girl looked up at you with a beaming smile and whispered, “That’s my favorite skirt.”

You tried to hide your blush from her intense gaze, “I know. Thought this’d go nicely when you wear it.”

Her thumb swept gently over the soft fabric of the ribbon as she looked down at it, “Well thank you very much. I already love it dearly.”

You smiled happily at her and your heart fluttered in your chest.

Lucy Gray then looked at you sweetly, “Will you…put it in my hair?”

“Yes, yeah. Course.”

You took the bow from her hand gently, “Turn around.”

She obliged and you reached out, running your hands through her thick, raven hair. You’d dreamed of doing this countless times and it was even better than you imagined- even if it was only for the sake of putting the bow in her hair.

You pulled strands of hair from either side of her head and brought them together in the back. You popped the silver clip open and slid it amongst the strands, clasping them into place. Once it clicked shut, you took a second to admire how lovely it looked amongst her dark tresses.

“Well, how’s it look?” She asked you.

You paused, lost in a trance.

“Does it look bad?”

Lucy Gray turned around, and because you’d been close behind her to clip on her bow, her face came within inches of yours.

You shook yourself out of your trance, “No, no! It doesn’t look bad at all. You look like a real pretty package, all wrapped up in a bow.”

This time, Lucy Gray certainly blushed, “You think so?”

“I know so,” you told her confidently.

“Sweetheart, could I ask you something?” she asked quietly.

You nodded mutely.

“How would you feel if I kissed you right now?”

All of the air rushed out of your lungs.

“I’d be happy as a hummingbird singin’ a new tune.”

Then, before you’ve even processed what happened, Lucy Gray closed the gap between you, kissing you softly. You reciprocated quickly and placed your hands gently on her waist.

When she pulled away you’re breathless, and you rested your forehead on hers, “I need to get you gifts more often.”

[acti-veg]

In lines with the 'how rich is too rich' ask, what do you think of the early retirement movement? Saving a large % of your income + investing in index funds? Im tempted because I want to spend more time volunteering and less time working but of course all the money I save could be donated and it feels so scummy to even have the amount now while animal sanctuaries are begging for dollars you know?

There is nothing wrong with working to secure your own financial future, it is something every one should do if they are able to. Financial freedom should be attainable for all people, the fact that it isn’t is not your fault. Getting your own finances in a good position frees your time to use for good, and gives you enough money to help family, friends and social justice causes. Financially secure people can do a lot of good.

I’m about to offer you some unsolicited advice based on research and experience, but if you don’t need or want it then skip to the final paragraph. I am in no way qualified to be a financial advisor, this is just some of the stuff I’ve learned the hard way that I wish someone had told me when I was in my 20’s!

It is a good idea to track your spending over the course of about three months, and calculate what are essential expenses. From what is left, you should set aside about 25% for savings and investments. Build up an emergency fund in an instant access savings account first (about 3-6 months of whatever your essential spending is - more if you have dependents), before you donate or invest. Then, calculate a percentage from what is left over that you can comfortably afford to donate monthly. Personally, I don’t think it is prudent to be donating more than you’re saving.

Once you’ve got your emergency fund, set up some donations as monthly direct debits, and keep some to use for more ad hoc donations, like responding to crisis appeals and fundraisers. That way, you are donating from a set budget and won’t leave yourself short. You could also keep a smaller, separate ‘altruistic fund’ to use for other people’s emergencies, that is just gathering a small amount of interest in the meantime. Don’t underestimate the value of giving your time to a cause as well.

Look for sustainable and socially conscious investments (to the extent that they exist) and compound growth will mean that you are in a better financial position to donate more money in the future. If you just donate all you can now, the amount of time and money you have free to donate will not increase over time.

Don’t wait or be ‘tempted,’ the earlier you can start the better. If you take nothing else useful from this, please understand that there is nothing unethical about seeking financial freedom so that you’re no longer chained to a wage. So long as you don’t exploit others to get there, there is really no downside.

[mathsbian]

You know what I was thinking about last night?

In the US, we pay into various accounts that are set up by the government to help us out later if/when we need it. These include unemployment insurance (UI), social security retirement benefits, and social security disability benefits (SSDI). These accounts are directly connected to how long you have worked and the amount of money you were paid, and are only for you to access.

We also pay into programs that are for anyone who needs them, no work required to get assistance. These include social welfare programs like SNAP (food stamps) and TANF (cash assistance for families with children so they can buy clothes for their kids and stuff that isn’t covered by SNAP) and SSI, which is another kind of disability insurance but is specifically for poor disabled people who are possibly still working but can’t afford their cost-of-living expenses which are higher than the average person thanks to their disability.

If you want to get money from SNAP or TANF, you have to prove that you need it. The government will be checking if you have a job and how much you get paid, they’ll look at your bank accounts to see how much money you have on hand, you send them copies of bill statements to prove your expenses eat up most or all of your income. Since SSI is a similar program, I can understand why there’s hoops to jump through to get money from that program.

However, if you want money from your UI account or your social security retirement account, you pretty much just have to tell the government you’re in the group that account is for now. For UI, you have to show you’re still looking for new work (at least in my state) but it’s a very lax requirement compared to the requirements for SNAP/TANF. I’m not entirely sure how one goes about collecting their retirement benefits but I assume it involves a similar process of filing with the government that you’ve retired instead of being between jobs, and they’re only check that that admission from you is true.

SSDI, though? You pay into that account your entire career. But then if you suddenly need the money, you have to go through a ridiculously complicated and drawn out process to be approved. UI approval takes a week at most in my state. I assume retirement benefits get approved in under a year at the very most. But getting approved for SSDI when you don’t have one of the limited diagnoses that automatically qualify you (and not even just a diagnosis in the list, a diagnosis with the right stipulations such as mental health conditions having to be present for over two years without much documented improvement despite consistent treatment)? That can take up to TWO YEARS because they can just deny you over and over again and force you to appeal the decision as many as like 5 times, and each appeal has a 6 month waiting period. And on top of that, once you stop working, the account starts counting down to self-destruction. You only have so much time before you lose access to the money entirely. If I am not found disabled on this application (I’m halfway through all the possible appeals), I will not be able to get my SSDI money AT ALL.

It’s fucking bullshit. I paid into that account so I would have money set aside for if I became disabled. I don’t have to prove I need the unemployment money, which I’m no longer qualified to receive, they’ll basically give it to me no questions asked. But when I’m disabled and barely scraping by for years I keep getting told that “actually from our review of your case it seems like you totally can have a desk job, go fuck yourself” despite me constantly including the detail that I cannot sit upright at a desk for more than an hour without needing to lie down completely flat for two hours immediately after. It’s MY MONEY. They’re not saving it for someone else, they’re going to just eat it if I don’t get it, why can’t they just GIVE IT TO ME???

[pastel-charm-14]

how to create a budget: for beginners

budgeting doesn't have to be daunting, especially if you're just starting out. here are some simple steps to help you create a budget as a beginner:

track your expenses: start by tracking all of your expenses for a month. this includes everything from rent and groceries to dining out and entertainment. use a spreadsheet, budgeting app, or pen and paper to record your expenses and categorize them.

calculate your income: determine how much money you bring in each month after taxes and other deductions. this includes your salary, freelance income, side hustle earnings, and any other sources of income.

set financial goals: think about what you want to achieve with your money, whether it's saving for a vacation, paying off debt, or building an emergency fund. set specific, achievable goals that align with your values and priorities.

categorize your expenses: organize your expenses into categories such as housing, transportation, groceries, utilities, entertainment, and savings. this will help you see where your money is going and identify areas where you can cut back if needed.

create a spending plan: based on your income and expenses, create a spending plan that outlines how much you'll allocate to each category. aim to prioritize essentials like housing, food, and transportation, while also setting aside money for savings and debt repayment.

track your progress: regularly review your budget and track your spending to see how well you're sticking to your plan. make adjustments as needed to stay on track with your financial goals.

build an emergency fund: aim to set aside money each month in an emergency fund to cover unexpected expenses like car repairs, medical bills, or job loss. start with a small amount and gradually work your way up to having three to six months' worth of living expenses saved.

be flexible and patient: budgeting is a learning process, and it's okay to make mistakes along the way. be patient with yourself and stay flexible as you adjust to your new financial habits. remember, every step you take towards managing your money better is a step in the right direction.

[ceruleanwhore]

The influx of trad wives on the internet has been making my brain itch but thanks to the video Film Cooper just dropped about it on YT, I can finally identify and verbalize what it is that’s making me itch. Basically, all these conservative, internalized misogyny, trad wife types are all shockingly close to actually having good points but then they just go all the way off at the last second because they can’t bring themselves to acknowledge that the real problem is capitalism. Let me explain.

I think we’ve all seen lots of content of these types of women complaining about feminism in different ways, but if you actually listen to what they’re saying (or at least like half of it), you can easily infer that their actual problem with “feminism” is how much capitalism has thoroughly fucked feminism over and this girlbossification of it to try and gloss that over. One lady on tiktok started to say something about how, when it comes to women entering the workforce, we haven’t taken into account stuff like energy levels and, until she started going off into internalized misogyny, I thought that was actually a really good point. We went from a system with the nuclear family where one income was enough to provide for everyone and even a lower income family could afford to have a mother stay home and do all the housework to women entering the workforce without any necessary social changes to accommodate a shift to families having two working parents. 

What needed to happen was a complete shift in pay rates and work schedules to make it so that either you could have one income like before or you could have that same amount of money distributed evenly between both working parties with both parents having fewer hours to provide them with enough time to do all the housework and childcare. Women were told that we could be more than just a mom, with the emphasis on the assumption we were still doing all of that housework and childcare in addition to full-time jobs and it’s fucking exhausting, no one has the energy for that. Now, inflation’s at an all-time high with wages being beyond stagnated so two people both working full time jobs without any kids or pets or anything can barely afford an apartment anywhere, but women (especially conservative women) are still expected to get married and have kids.

I think what’s happening with the trad wives is these are women coming from really conservative Christian areas so, setting aside the part where having a job at all is probably a red flag to the men they date, if they wanted to have a job, it would be in addition to all the domestic labor, like how it was for so many women until pretty recently. The rest of us can just not get married and/or not have kids and be just fine but these women were very literally groomed into being wives and mothers, like they were literally raised for that shit and there’s always the threat of ostracization if they go against expectations, so it doesn’t feel like an option for them to do that. However, the sheer amount of labor is daunting and yeah, I can definitely understand how you can look at a choice between a shitload of housework and childcare vs all that same work plus 40 hrs a week and immediately pick the former because what they, and all of us, really need is a bunch of support we don’t have.

When women entered the workforce, they tried so hard to paint it as that either you could have a job or you could be a mother but not both, even though fucking everyone’s mom did both, because that meant they could just not do anything about the desperate need for stuff like daycare. Sure, we have school busses, but parents everywhere can just go fuck themselves when it comes to the hours the kids aren’t in school but they are still at work, and forget about any help with cooking and cleaning on top of your full time job or multiple jobs. We fucked over women all over by never doing any of this and now the liberals try to gloss it over by ‘girlbossifying’ feminism and acting like this is fine and the conservatives push for women to have no rights to our bodies so we just have no choice but to pop out babies and not work. If you’re a conservative woman, it probably feels like there is no choice but to stay home and pop out babies, so it makes sense to me that they hop online and try to be happy about it and proud of it and reject feminism.

The thing is, I’m a leftist feminist but I can also relate to those struggles. I’m 24 and stuck living with my parents and it feels like it’s because I’m autistic and I really struggle with finding anyone who could happily live with me since even my friends have said that living with me would be triggering for them. I can’t work full time and am perpetually exhausted because I’m expected to be ‘on’ and masking 24 fucking 7 because otherwise I trigger my parents that I live with, but because I can only do part time, I can’t make nearly enough money to go anywhere. For ages, all I’ve wanted is to find someone who can accept me as a whole, entire person and live with me and then move in with them, but I fucking can’t. I totally get all these women who just want to find a husband so they can settle into a more comfortable living situation and feel secure, even if we can all recognize the problems with that type of lifestyle and how much risk there is for them. 

Our current housing and economic crisis is, inherently, a feminist issue. I mean, think about it, a woman can’t safely marry a man and be a stay-at-home-mom since there’s such a high risk she’ll end up destitute with a massive hole in her resume and no marketable skills when she tries to enter the workforce but also, a single woman with no kids or anything can’t even just have a job and live independently. Also, the shit wages and astronomical inflation of everything else under the sun means that everyone has to work more hours just to make enough to live and, again, that’s fucking over families and relationships and individual mental health which, at the end of the day, is also a feminist issue. 

Taking it back to the trad wives, I think it’s a shame we’re so quick to dismiss them due to the internalized misogyny they express because I think they actually showcase one of the biggest ways in which feminism has failed all of us because of capitalism. People talk a lot about how these women ‘choose’ this lifestyle in spite of how high the risk of failure is, but no one talks about how there shouldn’t even be that risk in the first place. It shouldn’t be possible for anyone to be literally left destitute because of a divorce, especially if they have kids in the picture and no one should have to figure out from the very beginning how they’re going to provide for themselves and potentially also kids if their partner leaves them. There need to be protections in place for families like that and also different kinds of programs to help people who lack qualifications and experience get into the workforce and make enough to actually be able to live and also care for any kids they might have. 

We need to stop pointing fingers at these conservative women and start thinking more about how this is actually a really serious feminist issue. Aside from just the trad wives, think about all the other people who potentially get completely fucked over or even end up homeless because of divorce. I think we all know about the statistical likelihood a man will leave his wife if she gets cancer, but do we stop and think about how the everliving fuck she’s supposed to keep a roof over her head and get herself to and from appointments and also pay for treatments and medications after he leaves? What about the people with disabilities who get absolutely fucked by the government if they try to live on their own on disability? With the current housing crisis, what if someone ends up having to move somewhere completely different and start a new job, like how are they supposed to find and fund all of that, especially if they owned a house but now are going to have to start renting because the other person got to keep the house?

So yeah, I really do think these trad wives are actually a bunch of canaries in a real fucking nasty coal mine.

[all-things-fic]

SNEAK PEEK: Bottomless Pleasure

A/N: Here’s a sneak peek. Hoping to post tomorrow as part of #SweetandSpicyFicChallenge. Big love to @harrysblackcoat​ @hslllot​ and @harry-on-broadway for making the challenge. See you all tomorrow and be kind, I'm proper rusty (thank you for all the encouragement already!) .xx

***

With the item neatly folded, you set it aside where it sat next to his phone, the screen lighting up with an incoming notification from someone. Your eyes fell, glancing to see that it was something from Tom before you looked away to busy yourself again.

It wasn’t until you stopped, that you reached out and pressed the button on the side of the phone to see if in the quick glance your eyes were deceiving you.

As the screen came to life again, it turns out they weren’t.

With a quick swipe you removed the notification from Tom to see, well, yourself (or so you assumed) in all your glory.

Pulling the phone out of the charger, you lifted it closer to your face to carefully examine the picture further. If this was you it had to have been taken a while back, you hadn’t had highlights in at least 18 months and the girl in this picture definitely had some sort of ombré going on.

The picture showed a woman on her knees, back facing the camera with hair tumbling down her back. Both hands were held loosely of their own accord behind this person's back as if they were waiting for something. Or someone.

“Found anything interesting?”

You almost jumped out your skin at the sound of his voice, deep and hoarse. Closing your eyes you inhaled and held your breath, before slowly turning to look over your shoulder at him only to exhale slowly when you saw him.

Harry stood casually, his shoulder resting against the door jamb, loosely holding a paper cup filled with whatever concoction he swore was helping his throat on this particular evening. A thick white towel hung around his neck, looking slightly damper now from where he must’ve used it to roughly towel dry his rain sodden hair.

“Is this me?”

You held his phone up, screen flashing in his direction. He squinted his eyes playfully over at the phone, barely moving from his spot but leaning forwards and pretending to examine his home screen.

A small amount of silence lingered before he laughed out loud at your question. Harry’s eyes were closed, and a double chin formed from the force of his chuckle. You knew you sounded stupid, but you didn’t remember it being taken.

“Of course, it bloody well is,” he rushed out his confirmation, pushing his body away from the door before kicking it shut and leaning down to place his drink on the table closest to him on his way inside. “No where near hairy enough to be Mitch’s.”

It was your turn to laugh now, before you felt him wrap himself around your mid-giggle. Your hand gripped to his forearms as they wound themselves loosely underneath your boobs and swayed your body with his to pull you towards the middle of the room and away from the wall. His skin felt damp underneath your touch, wet hair strands skimming against your temple as he leant into you.

With lips meshed against your rounded cheek Harry smoothly asked, “D’ya know anyone else with a cracking arse like that.”

You didn’t reply, instead you used your free hand to reach behind you and push your fingers up from the nape of Harry’s neck and into his wet hair. “Hi,” he mouthed against your skin, “I’ve missed you.”

[devsgames]

how hard was it to set up stuff regarding economical/legal side of things for gamedev? (regirestering a company, register trademark, recieve income from steam, pay taxes, etc) i know that its country specific but i would want to hear your side of things

You're right in that it's incredibly specific to your location! I'll go over what I've had to do thus far for specifically living in Ontario, Canada; A lot of how I've gained the following insight has been from thorough Googling, looking on government resources and asking people.

Setting Up A Business

Here in Ontario we have generous small business laws, anyone making money from their own business is by default considered a "Sole Proprietorship". Normally businesses need to charge tax based on every Good or Service sold, however Sole Proprietorships don't need to do this until they reach $30k yearly profits in Ontario.

Currently I'm making maybe 5k a year from my games so I'm safe, and thus technically don't even need to register a business. The tradeoff however is that I'm legally and financially responsible for my own business, so if something happens financially or legally it's my own personal risk and not the business's.

There's a few business types here with different meanings (Partnership, LLC, Co-op, etc). Technically I should register one at some point but since it's just me and I'm broke it won't do much. To register a business in Canada isn't hard (I think it's basically just a 30 minute phone call where they give you a 'business number' for registeration and tax use and say "congrats you're a business now!). You have to come up with a unique business name which I've consistently floundered back and forth on and have never stuck to anything which is why "Dev's Games" is the best "brand" I have at the moment. Good thing I'm not registered yet!

Registering a Trademark

This also depends on your location, and I have never done this. I'm sure in many cases there is reason to if I really cared about exclusively using titles or names of things, but I honestly don't.

I also genuinely don't thinm not having a trademark as a problem! Trademarks strike me as useful for a company trying to build a big business around a name that is aleeady popular and ripe for idea theft (E.g Photoshop, Google, Adobe) and stopping others from using it. Right now, I'm so small that this doesn't matter, and I'd honestly consider someone drawing inspiration from me an honor as opposed to something I'd want to contain. Maybe if one of my titles got like SUPER viral down the road I'd seriously look into it; apparently it's a lot of paperwork and something you'd have to find a lawyer for.

Getting Payments

This is, you guessed it, just paperwork that depends on your operating location!

Established storefronts like Steam have a process for registering your account with them and when I started out this was the part of the process I was the most anxious for, but it's actually super easy (which is why there's so much shovelware on there). Steam as a baseline takes 30% of all your sales on the platform (an absolutely insane amount for what the platform does). You'll fill out some paperwork and based on your operating location to determine how much money Steam automatically sets aside for taxes (VST).

As a Canadian they take 0% because Canada-America has tax exemption treaties which make receiving payments from American companies like this tax-free.

Outside of that there's not much, you give them your bank account number and they send payments one month after month end (e.g. end of December they'll pay you for November's sales). Everything is in USD so be prepared for things to be a bit wonky in that respect, and note it costs $100 USD to add a game to Steam. Setting up store pages for your games is its own kind of busywork I won't get into here, but publishing to Steam on the whole is much more work than something like Itch.io.

All in all I like Steam's process for registering and they make it pretty easy to get onto the platform since it's in their interest to potentially make fat money off of your work for doing very little :)

Managing Income

I struggle with anxiety around finances so this part is long.

I set up my own bank account explicitly for earning/spending on my games - prior to getting laid off I only used it for that, but recently I've been having to pay rent from it now too sometimes.

Get a platform that allows you to track and categorize your expenses and income over time. I've been using Wave to balance my income and expenses, as I find it's pretty simple for my needs and lets me mark what different payments are to avoid losing secret money to things I forget about. It connects directly to your bank account, so it will be the most accurate form of income tracking.

Eventually you will buy things and forget what you bought, or receive money for something you're not sure why, or lose/receive money months after you should have. Steam and Itchio have ways of viewing your payouts and reports, but it's hard jumping through 2-3 websites trying to track down a magic number - viewing this all in one place is invaluable to your sanity and making sure you don't go broke. Having this will be a godsend to you during tax time.

Always have additional "rainy day" money set aside - when I started I put about $100 aside from each paycheque at my full time job into my business. Keep an eye on your income flow and know how much you can anticipate to spend on your work. Know how your business money relates to your personal finances and be ready to take money out of your business for emergencies, and vice versa for business emergencies. Money put aside to pay contractors is money you cannot and should not touch.

Contractors based in the US will often ask you pay them through a certain site, many of which aren't available outside the US. Don't be afraid to ask if they use something like Paypal instead. Keep extra money aside for them so you can tip. Make sure you're aware of how they expect to be paid, at what interval, and how much, and keep that money aside. And expense tracker is also helpful here.

Keep in mind most businesses operate on USD, and be mindful of how your local currency converts over. CDN is usually ~60-70% of USD, so I often have to pay more for things like subscriptions or labour then they're listed. When a contractor tells you their rates always be sure you know what currency they're talking about - sometimes I've expected to pay USD when I've had to pay AUS.

Also do not quit your dayjob. Make money through a stable employment and fund your games as a fun side hobby. Easier said than done, but there is an almost 0% chance you will be able to afford surviving off of making indie games as a full living and be afford to keep a roof over your head. I've shipped 4 games on Steam now and I only make about $100-$300 USD from sales there depending on the month. Minimum wage in Ontario is ~$25k a year, I am currently making like $5k from sales on Steam alone. Working at McDonalds would pay better.

Taxes

Taxes are very regional, so results will vary.

Usually businesses have to set aside sales taxes on goods sold. Since I'm a Sole Proprietorship in Ontario making less than 30k I don't have to. Taxes for me basically consists of saying "I made this much" to the government (good expense tracking REALLY helps here).

One thing to note is that at least here the government has NO IDEA how video games fit into business. Until recently there was no "Game Development" business type, and much of the tax reporting interface is obsessed with physical goods; it'll ask how much your "inventory" is worth, how many "goods" you have sold (games are technically "goods" even though they're not a physical thing). Basically be prepared for your tax system to be used to dealing with physical retailers and farmers, and not with digital-only software developers.

---

I'm sure there's more I can cover but my hands hurt. A lot of this is researching your local laws and/or talking to devs local to your area. It's not hard to do any of this necessarily, it's just a lot of paperwork (which is nevertheless super helpful to put together). Once you learn how it all works everything is way less scary though! :)

[monocle-teacup]

Have some more Mandroid and a Cat: Tagging @sveene and @yayoineko since I know they would enjoy it.

As important as ridding Earth of the Cybertronian menace was, the unfortunate reality was that Stephen had to worry about something mundane like finances. After all, the materials, tools, and other equipment needed cost money. Most of his income was from him selling his tech or designing robots. He made it a point to do everything above board so that he didn’t entangle himself with any unsavory elements. The idea of having to contact Croft for anything was something he wanted to avoid. 

Once a month he would sit at his desk and go over figures. Of course, he had a small amount set aside for things like food and toiletries. He never spent extravagantly on himself since it would take away from his mission. Occasionally he would buy a book, but that was it. Most would consider his lifestyle minimalist. It was all necessary if he wanted to succeed. 

He scowled as he tallied up the amount of money needed to replace what was destroyed thanks to Optimus and Megatron. Walls and windows didn’t fix themselves. It was safe to assume that he was going to run into them more often since they were now aware of his existence. That was fine for the scientist since having either leader’s parts would be a welcome addition to his collection.

Leaning back in his chair, he was startled when he felt weight in his lap. Looking down, he saw the cat’s green eyes staring up at him.

“How long have you been there?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

“Mew!”

He remembered enough about feline behavior to know that the animal wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. There was still more of the budget to look over so he would be seated longer anyway. 

As he went over numbers, he absentmindedly started petting the cat with his left hand. His concentration faltered when he realized just how bony the creature was. Odd. It didn’t appear as if it was starving to death, but it clearly wasn’t getting enough food. Apparently the Arachnamechs had been too effective at driving away vermin from his lab. 

“You’re also in need of a bath.” Stephen commented, noting how the animal was purring. There was a sharp intake of breath from him as he felt claws digging into his leg. The cat wasn’t trying to scratch him, but was flexing its paws in contentment. “You also need your nails trimmed.”

It had been a while since he felt so relaxed. He knew that there had been actual studies about the benefits of petting certain animals. Having something else to talk to aside from the Arachnamechs was also pleasant. What he could really use was human conversation. In his quest to eradicate the Cybertronian threat, he had isolated himself. GHOST was a phone call away, but he’d be damned before he went back to them again.

“You only need to worry about food, water, and shelter.” he said while looking at the cat again. The feline let out a “Mrr” and tilted its head so that he was stroking its chin. He felt a vibration against his fingers. “I suppose this is your favorite spot?” he asked with a smile.

He spent a few minutes simply rubbing the animal’s face. An idea formed in the back of his mind that gradually took hold of his attention. Was he really thinking of working out the budget to include items for the cat? It wasn’t even his! He had more important things to worry about. If it came down to it, he could always leave it in a box near a populated area in the hopes that someone would claim it.

“Yes, that’s an option. Although a bath would increase the chances of someone taking you.” 

He wouldn’t be the one to do it though. Though he was better at using his Cybertronian hand, he still didn’t want to risk harming the cat. It was safe to assume that the feline would be difficult to bathe. On his rare trips to town, he thought he saw a pet grooming business. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to enter looking the way he did, but he had cloaking technology to fix that.

[jordan-the-pious]

~ @poorsadorphanposting

I promise I'm not here about Esmee again. She uh... She wasn't very happy when she noticed I was talking about her behind her back. Which I guess is understandable in retrospect ahahahaha.

Uhhhhh this is about something I did!

So. As you may have heard, money is uhhh... Tight at the orphanage. I don't think I can go into much detail, but Esmee and I direly needed money. Usually she insists on getting it herself so I don't have to endanger myself (I can't say I love the arrangement, though I was already a kind of scared to go outside and most traditional jobs I try I just end up breaking down, so... I'm not really in a spot to argue about it.)

So there is this businessman with a lot of disposable income. I think Esmee has been with him before, but their personalities clashed (and now, seemingly out of some sort of misguided protectiveness she straight up despises him.) He seems to prefer me and well... We need the money, like I said.

Before, it was enough to go to a nice place with him, try not to be so jumpy as to make it look as though he beats (me as he said), look cute (as he also said) and tolerate a kiss at the end! I can just about deal with that and he knows I have vows that are important to uphold.

The issue is, he's been asking more and more of me lately. (I'll say he's seen the chastity belt and leave it at that...) culminating in, uh... Well. Goodness, I think I'm stalling a bit, here. Um. Ilethimdefilemymouth. It was awful and I feel gross. I still feel it, even three days later. I wanted to confess this, but um, I think moreso I wanted to ask about being some form of purification? I don't know. I'm aware the temple doesn't usually check for or punish this. I just want this feeling to go away and to be normal and pure again ahaha...

Goodness gracious Edin, I am so so sorry to hear about all of this. It must be quite difficult carrying this weight around on your back, let alone keeping it bottled up inside of yourself for so long. I can hardly imagine what tumultuous emotions you must have been experiencing recently. Why on earth did it take you so long to bring this up with me? You should know that I am always here for you in any way that you need me.

I am going to set every issue with your sister and her behavior aside for now. You need focus and attention, and so my focus and attention you shall have. I am here to help you, I promise.

You have done well so far, young Edin. It takes much bravery to make up for our own mistakes, let alone the mistakes of those we care about. You are an excellent older brother, and a testament to our faith. Never forget that, and never let anyone tell you otherwise.

You are correct that this is something that the temple does not check for, and does not punish. You are still, in the mind of our religion, pure. Having said that, I do understand your wish for purity, for cleanliness after being defiled this way.

Come with me. The temple does not have a way to deal with this, but I may have found myself in a similar situation to you in the past and wanted to cleanse myself as best I could following that incident. It is a bit different, as I will admit that I acted voluntarily for someone I loved, but it should work for you nonetheless.

Jordan leads Edin from the main confessional area down several long winding paths, before eventually stopping in front of the door to their main residence. They enter, swiftly grabbing a red glass bottle from the back of their bookshelf, where it appears to have been hidden. The lid of the bottle has a rose motif on it, and the body has a label that simply says "For B" on it. Jordans eyes seem to try to avoid these details, as they grab a cup and pour a small amount of the liquid out into the cup and hand it to Edin. It smells like liquid roses.

Apologies if the scent is strong, I wished to cleanse myself rather thoroughly the last time I made and used this. Swish this around in your mouth for a few seconds, and then swallow. It should help you feel better.