#tax-advantaged retirement

[alwaysbewoke]

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[willsandtrusts]

Discover how pension contributions can significantly reduce your taxable income in the UK, providing dual benefits by preparing for retirement while lowering your current tax bill. This guide explores tax relief options, different pension types, and the impacts on your financial planning. Learn the advantages of investing in pensions and how to maximize these benefits for a secure financial future.

[kanakkupillai2007]

Tax Advantages of Mandatory Provident Fund

The Statutory Provident Fund, also known as the General Provident Fund (GPF), was established under the Provident Funds Act of 1925. This fund primarily caters to government employees, universities, recognized educational institutions, railways, and other qualifying entities.

Explore the tax advantages of a Mandatory Provident Fund. Learn how this financial tool can help you save on taxes and secure your future. 📦⚖️💼

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The tax treatment for employees regarding this fund involves several essential aspects:

Tax-Exempt Interest:  Interest credited during the financial year is tax-exempt, providing a significant benefit to employees. This tax exemption means that the growth of the provident fund remains untouched by taxation, ensuring that employees' savings can compound more effectively.

Tax-Exempt Withdrawals: When employees terminate their PF accounts, the withdrawal amounts are tax-exempt. This feature provides a substantial financial advantage to those who depend on their provident fund savings during retirement or for specific financial needs.

In conclusion, the GPF offers substantial tax benefits to both employers and employees, ensuring financial security for eligible individuals and institutions. This tax advantage makes the provident fund an attractive and reliable savings option, further promoting financial stability and security for contributors.

Step-by-Step Procedure for Tax Advantages of Mandatory Provident Fund:

Eligibility Check:

Determine your eligibility for the Mandatory Provident Fund (MPF) based on your employment status and age.

Employer Registration:

Ensure that your employer is registered for MPF and making contributions on your behalf.

Contribution Process:

Understand how contributions are deducted from your salary and deposited into your MPF account.

Investment Choices:

Select your investment funds and risk level based on your financial goals.

Tax Deductions:

Take advantage of tax deductions available for your MPF contributions.

Documents Required for Tax Advantages of Mandatory Provident Fund:

Employment Contract or Letter of Appointment

MPF Account Details

Identification Proof (e.g., ID Card or Passport)

Proof of Income (e.g., Pay Stubs)

Bank Account Information

Benefits of Tax Advantages of Mandatory Provident Fund:

Tax Savings:

Enjoy tax deductions on your contributions, reducing your taxable income.

Retirement Security:

Build a retirement fund to secure your financial future.

Employer Contributions:

Benefit from employer contributions to your MPF account.

Investment Growth:

Grow your savings through investment options.

Flexible Withdrawals:

Access your MPF funds for specific purposes, such as buying a home or covering medical expenses.

Latest 15 Questions and Answers for Tax Advantages of Mandatory Provident Fund:

1. Who is eligible for the Mandatory Provident Fund (MPF) in India?

The MPF is available to employed individuals in India.

2. How are MPF contributions deducted from my salary?

Contributions are deducted by your employer and deposited into your MPF account.

3. Can I choose my investment funds for my MPF account?

Yes, you can select from various investment options based on your risk tolerance.

4. What are the tax advantages of contributing to the MPF?

MPF contributions enjoy tax deductions, reducing your taxable income.

5. Are there any age restrictions for participating in the MPF?

The MPF is available to individuals of various age groups.

6. Can I withdraw my MPF contributions before retirement?

Yes, you can access your funds for specific purposes, subject to certain conditions.

7. How is the MPF different from other retirement savings options?

The MPF offers tax benefits and employer contributions, making it a popular choice.

8. What happens if I change jobs?

You can transfer your MPF account to your new employer or maintain it independently.

9. How are MPF investments managed and diversified?

Professional fund managers manage MPF investments and offer diversification options.

10. Can I increase my MPF contributions voluntarily?

Yes, you can make additional voluntary contributions for extra savings.

11. Are there any penalties for early MPF withdrawals?

Penalties may apply for early withdrawals, depending on the purpose.

12. How can I check my MPF account balance and transactions?

You can check your account online or through statements provided by your MPF provider.

13. What happens to my MPF account if I relocate or move abroad?

You can manage your MPF account from abroad and continue to enjoy its benefits.

14. Can self-employed individuals participate in the MPF?

Yes, self-employed individuals can contribute to the MPF for retirement planning.

15. Are there any changes or updates to MPF regulations that I should be aware of?

Stay informed about any updates or amendments to MPF regulations for maximum benefits.

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Tax Advantages, Mandatory Provident Fund, Retirement Savings, Tax Efficiency, MPF, Provident Fund, Tax Savings, Retirement Planning, Tax Benefits, Indian MPF, Employee Retirement, Tax Deductions, Tax Planning, Tax-Efficient Investment, Retirement Tax, Financial Security, Savings Plan, Retirement Benefits

[kc22invesmentsblog]

Exploring Roth IRA Accounts: Tax-Advantaged Investing for Retirement

Written by Delvin As you plan for your retirement, it’s crucial to consider different investment options that can help you grow your savings while enjoying tax advantages. One such option is the Roth Individual Retirement Account (IRA). In this blog post, we’ll explore the features, benefits, and considerations of Roth IRA accounts, empowering you to make informed decisions about your retirement…

[ilucyliu-blog]

5 Essential IRA Rules to Know Before You Invest

Unlock the power of tax-advantaged savings with an IRA! Learn about the contribution limits, income requirements, and withdrawal rules to make the most of your retirement savings. Plus, discover the benefits of converting to a Roth IRA and avoid costly pe

Individual Retirement Accounts (IRAs) are a popular way for Americans to save for retirement. These tax-advantaged accounts allow individuals to contribute a certain amount of money each year, which can then grow tax-free until withdrawal. However, some certain rules and regulations govern IRAs, and it’s important to understand these before setting up or contributing to an IRA. Here are five key…

[wonnieaura]

financial knowledge for the girlies 🤍🍓💸

Develop a budget: Creating and sticking to a budget can help you better understand your income and expenses, and learn how to prioritize your spending.

Save regularly: Saving money is crucial for achieving financial stability. You can set up automatic transfers to a savings account so you won't be tempted to spend the money.

Pay off debt: High-interest debt can hinder your financial progress. Make a plan to pay off your debts and focus on high-interest debts first.

Invest wisely: Investing can help your money grow over time. Look for low-cost index funds, which can give you broad exposure to the market at a low cost.

Understand compound interest: Compound interest is the interest you earn on interest. By investing consistently, the power of compound interest can help you build wealth over time.

Research before making big financial decisions: Before making a major decision, such as buying a house or car, research different options and weigh the costs and benefits.

Learn from your mistakes: Every failure or setback can teach you something valuable. Use these experiences to inform your future financial decisions.

Get professional advice: Seek advice from a financial advisor if you're unsure about your financial decisions. They can provide guidance on investments, retirement planning, and tax strategies.

Be aware of scams: Scammers can take advantage of financial illiteracy. Be cautious when someone offers an investment that's too good to be true.

Continuous learning: Financial knowledge is constantly changing, so stay informed by regularly reading financial news, books, and attending classes or webinars.

[robertreich]

The Truth About Immigrants and the Economy

Immigrants are good for the economy and our society! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

For centuries, immigration has been America’s secret sauce for economic growth and prosperity.

But for just as long, immigrants have been an easy scapegoat.

One of the oldest, ugliest lies is to falsely smear immigrants as criminals.

It’s just not true. Crime is way down in America. Anyone who says otherwise is fearmongering.

And whatever crime there is is not being driven by immigration. Immigrants, regardless of citizenship status, are 60% less likely to be incarcerated for committing crimes than U.S.-born citizens.

Maybe that’s why border cities are among America’s safest.

Immigration opponents also claim immigrants are a drag on the economy and a drain on government resources.

Rubbish!

Quite the opposite, the major reason immigrants are coming to America is to build a better life for themselves and their families, contributing to the American economy.

The long-term economic benefits of immigration outweigh any short-term costs. The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates that adding more immigrants as workers and consumers — including undocumented immigrants — will grow America’s economy by about $7 trillion over the next decade. And those immigrants would increase tax revenue by about $1 trillion, shrinking the deficit and helping pay for programs we all benefit from.

Immigrants of all statuses pay more in taxes than they get in government benefits. Research by the libertarian Cato Institute found first-generation immigrants pay $1.38 in taxes for every $1 they receive in benefits,

This is especially true for undocumented immigrants, who pay billions in taxes each year, but are excluded from almost all federal benefits. After all, you need documentation to receive federal benefits. Guess what undocumented immigrants don’t have. Hello?

And of course, one of the most common anti-immigrant claims also isn’t true.

No. Immigrants are not taking away jobs that Americans want. Undocumented immigrants in particular are doing some of the most dangerous, difficult, low-paying, and essential jobs in the country.

Despite what certain pundits might tell you, immigration has not stopped the U.S. from enjoying record-low unemployment.

And as the Baby Boom generation moves into retirement, young immigrants will help support Social Security by providing a thriving base of younger workers who are paying into the system. The fact that so many immigrants want to come here gives America an advantage over other countries with aging populations, like Germany and Japan.  

What’s more, immigrants are particularly ambitious and hardworking. They are 80% more likely to start a new business than U.S. born citizens. Immigrant-founded businesses also impressively comprise 103 companies in last year’s Fortune 500.

And immigrants continue to add immeasurably to the richness of American culture. We should be celebrating them, not denigrating them.

It’s time to speak the facts and the truth. We need immigrants to keep our economy — and our country — vibrant and growing. They are not “poisoning the blood” of our nation. They’re renewing and restoring it.

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Repairing Our Busted-Ass World

On poverty:

Starting from nothing

How To Start at Rock Bottom: Welfare Programs and the Social Safety Net 

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: “Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?“

Understanding why people are poor

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Why Are Poor People Poor and Rich People Rich?

On Financial Discipline, Generational Poverty, and Marshmallows

Bitchtastic Book Review: Hand to Mouth by Linda Tirado

Is Gentrification Just Artisanal, Small-Batch Displacement of the Poor?

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Developing compassion for poor people

The Latte Factor, Poor Shaming, and Economic Compassion

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Stop Myself from Judging Homeless People?“

The Subjectivity of Wealth, Or: Don’t Tell Me What’s Expensive

A Little Princess: Intersectional Feminist Masterpiece?

If You Can’t Afford to Tip 20%, You Can’t Afford to Dine Out

Correcting income inequality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

One Reason Women Make Less Money? They’re Afraid of Being Raped and Killed.

Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better

Are Unions Good or Bad?

On intersectional social issues:

Reproductive rights

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

How To Get an Abortion 

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

You Don’t Have to Have Kids

Gender equality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap 

The Pink Tax, Or: How I Learned to Love Smelling Like “Bearglove”

Our Single Best Piece of Advice for Women (and Men) on International Women’s Day

Bitchtastic Book Review: The Feminist Financial Handbook by Brynne Conroy

Sexual Harassment: How to Identify and Fight It in the Workplace 

Queer issues

Queer Finance 101: Ten Ways That Sexual and Gender Identity Affect Finances

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Racial justice

The Financial Advantages of Being White

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander: A Bitchtastic Book Review

Something Is Wrong in Personal Finance. Here’s How To Make It More Inclusive.

The Biggest Threat to Black Wealth Is White Terrorism

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality 

10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now 

Youth issues

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

The Ugly Truth About Unpaid Internships

Ask the Bitches: “I Just Turned 18 and My Parents Are Kicking Me Out. How Do I Brace Myself?”

Identifying and combatting abuse

When Money is the Weapon: Understanding Intimate Partner Financial Abuse

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Say ‘No’ When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?”

Ask the Bitches: I Was Guilted Into Caring for a Sick, Abusive Parent. Now What?

On mental health:

Understanding mental health issues

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Stop Recommending Therapy Like It’s a Magic Bean That’ll Grow Me a Beanstalk to Neurotypicaltown

Bitchtastic Book Review: Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos and Your Big Brain

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

Coping with mental health issues

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD 

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics 

On saving the planet:

Changing the system

Don’t Boo, Vote: If You Don’t Vote, No One Can Hear You Scream

Ethical Consumption: How to Pollute the Planet and Exploit Labor Slightly Less

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights 

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality 

Shopping smarter

You Deserve Cheap Toilet Paper, You Beautiful Fucking Moon Goddess

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

Fast Fashion: Why It’s Fucking up the World and How To Avoid It

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

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[traveler-at-heart]

Game, Set, Match

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a professional tennis player, struggling to go back to the top and win the US Open. Reluctant at first, she allows a sports journalist into her life... and a bit more.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R - Ya know it, fluffy af.

A/N: I love tennis and this was basically written for me. But @canvascoloredin is also a fan and thought, ok well, let's post it, maybe someone else will enjoy :)

“Thirty all”

She’s catching up, do something.

“Forty, thirty”

“Deuce”

“Come on, Natasha” her sister yells from the box.

Advantage, Romanoff.

Game, set, match. Natasha Romanoff.

Everything that happens after is a blur. Natasha feels like she just played the final, but in reality, it’s just the first round.

“Way to go, darling” her mother compliments when she’s back in the locker rooms, but Fury is quickly behind, not holding back.

“Three sets against an amateur and you won because she got nervous and got a double fault. That’s not good” 

“I beat her, didn’t I?” Natasha averts her eyes, putting on her jacket to go to the press room.

“Barely” her trainer mumbles. 

Natasha’s heart beats fast as she sits in front of all the journalists. They were warned about the questions they could ask, but still. Natasha feels all eyes on her, judging her reaction and demeanor.

“Did you worry about losing control at the start of the third set?” a man in the front row asks.

“It was the defining moment of the game, so I felt like I had to push myself harder and control the rhythm of the match. Which obviously happened”

“How was it to go back after your break? Unlike other players, you didn’t participate in any tournaments between Wimbledon and this”

“I’ve been playing tennis all my life, really, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal to me. Just because I wasn’t playing to win titles doesn’t mean I didn’t train” 

Natasha hears Fury cough and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Control your temper, he’s trying to say.

Well, maybe they shouldn’t ask stupid questions.

--

You’re sitting in the middle of the press room, eyes trained on Natasha. She’s looking anywhere but you. 

I guess this means she read my column.

The conference is coming to an end, so you raise your hand and the assistant points at you.

“We have time for one more” he concedes.

“That’s enough for today” Natasha shuts it down before you can ask. 

Yeah, she definitely read the article.

Natasha can’t wait to get out of there, thanking the press before sprinting out of the room. You consider following her, but a text from your boss stops you.

Go to LA Stadium, Wanda Maximoff just bageled some poor girl.

With a bit of luck, you’ll get an exclusive with Wanda.

--

The biggest crime of Shostakov

It was a Tuesday afternoon, well into the second week of Wimbledon, when the news broke out. Alexei Shostakov, retired tennis player, was arrested for fraud and tax evasion. While in custody, it was discovered Shostakov was in possession of drugs.

The famous Red Guardian, who once had won on that very same club, was now dragged away in a patrol car, stripped of his days of glory. For people who are well versed in the history of tennis, this doesn’t come as a complete shock. Shostakov was a notorious trouble maker, often breaking rackets, ripping his shirts open and getting expelled from a total of 15 matches during the entire run of his career.

No one seemed more affected by the news than his protegee and adoptive daughter, Natasha Romanoff. The favorite to win the world’s most important Grand Slam retired amid the breaking news. As a result, Wanda Maximoff’s path to the trophy was an easy one, taking the number 1 from Romanoff while she was at it.

If her career depends on Alexei’s ability to get back on his feet, Natasha Romanoff should retire now.

In her best form, Romanoff is stealthy, precise and absolutely lethal. Her movements reminisce those of a ballerina; one that gracefully dances across the court -doesn’t matter if it’s grass, clay or hard- to deliver blow after blow of brilliance. Natasha has raw talent, pure heart and an unbreakable spirit.

The biggest crime of Shostakov, is that he’s in the way of her greatness. Maybe it’s his ego or a compulsion to attach himself to a woman who has the capacity to break every record from the Open Era.

Whatever the reason, it’s clear she’s better off without him. For those of us who love this sport, and want Natasha to be the champion she was meant to be, this is an unique opportunity to watch her finally emerge from the shadows of the overbearing man.

The proverbial ball is in Romanoff’s court. In all her brilliance, the one thing Natasha rarely does is take risks.

It’s never too late to start.

--

“We’re finishing the second day of the US Open and we have some major upsets. Carol Danvers, number 3 in the world and only American in the top ten lost to Brit Peggy Carter” you say, holding the mic and looking at the camera.

“I understand there was some excitement on the man’s singles” you hear Maria say on your earpiece and you nod.

“Queens had a face off with Brooklyn today. Bucky Barnes defeated amateur Peter Parker, but get this! They played five sets, and Peter won every tiebreak. So it seems like we have some exciting new talent”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, for sure. Thanks for the report, Y/N!”

“A pleasure as usual, Maria. Greetings to everyone back on the studio” 

“And cut” Darcy, your producer says. You remove the earpiece and hand over the mic. As you turn around, you spot Natasha training. It’s obvious you’re staring when Darcy speaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know? You wrote what a lot of people were thinking”

“Well, seems like she doesn’t wanna hear it”

“It’s fine. I mean, it would be better if we could get a quote from her or an interview but if she hates you that much we can get someone else to do it”

“Or, I could go and try to talk to her?”

“So you have a death wish!”

“Didn’t you just say I did nothing wrong?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll listen. I am also legally obligated to tell you that your health insurance doesn’t cover injuries caused by tennis balls. Or rackets”

“Very funny”

--

“Relax your wrist” Fury instructs once again and Natasha ignores him, as usual.

She hates the press, the interviews, the hoops she has to jump through just so she can play tennis. 

None of it is optional and she has to follow the rules, something Natasha is particularly bad at.

“If you want to move to the next round you’re gonna have to listen to me”

Does she really want to move to the next round? Is there a point to all of this? She had lost her number one ranking and people were focusing more on her private life than her career.

Fury spots you across the court and smiles. 

You nod your head towards the man and he sighs, defeated.

“Can you talk some sense into her?” 

“Can anyone?” you say and he pats you on the back, leaving the court. The sun is setting and people are going home, ready to return tomorrow to watch the next round of players. You greet Natasha but she ignores you.

“You owe me a question” you try to joke, as she keeps hitting the ball so hard you think her racket will break in half. 

“I know who you are and I’m not talking to you” 

She looks hot when she’s pissed.

You push those thoughts away.

“Natasha”

“No, you and I are not on a first name basis. Not after you wrote all that crap about me without knowing me” 

“I only spoke the truth” 

“That my career is doomed and I should retire?” she finally stops throwing balls across the court and turns to look at you.

“Oh, my God! You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“I don’t need to. I know what everyone's been saying ever since Alexei was arrested. I know he was unconventional, but he was my trainer. He was beside me through the good and bad” 

“I get it, ok? He’s your family. And your trainer. That’s never easy and I understand how it can be hard to see things objectively. But,  Natasha, you are great in spite of him, not because of him”

That makes her pause.

“Nick Fury came out of retirement to train you. That’s how talented you are!”

The redhead serves a couple of times, staying completely silent.

“I’m not talking to you” she reminds you. 

“You’re the best player out there, Natasha. And right now you’re the only thing getting in the way of your success” 

--

Morning comes and so does the next match. Natasha is looking out the window of the suite, as people come and go around the busy streets of the tennis center.

Fury steps in, immediately aware of her nervous energy. If he asks if she’s ready, she’ll probably rip his head off. So, talking about something different might be the way to go.

“Her father was also a sports journalist,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Who?” 

“Y/N. Richard was a single parent, so he’d always bring her to the games, even as a baby. She behaved better than most people too” 

“Is he retired?” 

“Nope. Cancer. Four years ago” Fury sits in front of Natasha. “Didn’t expect her to follow his steps, but that girl really knows sports. She’s working with the local station, and also writes for Sports Illustrated”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Never hurts to have a couple of friends around,” he says, sipping from his glass.

“I’m not good at making friends” Natasha looks away.

“Yeah, I know. You’re good at tennis, so…” the man checks his watch and stands up. “Let’s kick some ass”

--

Natasha has to face Kate Bishop, currently ranked 24. Her game is the opposite of aggressive, but she’s famous for her impeccable aim. Natasha has to control the game from the start if she wants to win.

She serves first, and as she bounces the ball, preparing her stance, Fury’s words echo in her head. All the advice he has given her for the past months, advice that she has consistently ignored.

Then, as she throws the ball, her eyes meet yours. You’re sitting in the front row, leaning forward. 

In a split second, she makes a decision.

Natasha is ready to take risks.

She aims for the corner of the service box, hoping it will fall inside. Kate lunges forward, shocked at the speed of the ball.

“Ace” the umpire announces. “Fifteen love” 

Natasha sees you clapping and can hear Fury shouting “That’s it, you can do this, Romanoff”

And boy, does she deliver. Kate is running across the court. Natasha’s unforced errors are incredibly low. While the crowd usually loves long games, the redhead is a legend and they’re excited to see her prowess first hand. 

The game ends in 47 minutes, 6-3, 6-2.

Kate approaches the net and shakes Natasha’s hand.

“That was… incredible, Romanoff”

“Thank you, Kate” 

The kind words and the genuine admiration make Natasha relax instantly.

Of course, the crowd goes wild as the redhead lifts her arms, clapping and waving. 

She’s in such a good mood that she decides she’ll finally take your question. But as she enters the press room, you’re nowhere to be found. 

Still, she chats and even jokes around with the journalists present.

Once again, the entire family celebrates as if Natasha had already won the Grand Slam.

“Seestra, the crowd was going craaaazy, it was like a Taylor Swift concert” Yelena tells her excitedly as they eat. Natasha’s starving, so nervous about today that she didn’t even have breakfast.

They keep chatting, talking about strategy for the next game and wondering who will go against Natasha next. 

“Natalia, your father wants to talk to you” Melina interrupts, holding her phone.

“Why?” Natasha snaps, going back to her stoic self.

“He wants to congratulate you,” the woman insists.

“I’m not in the mood. Excuse me” she stands up, losing her appetite.

Out on the terrace, she watches people passing by, trying to think of anything else but Alexei.

Your words come back to her, and she starts to believe them.

You are great in spite of him.

“Hey, there you are!” you shout from the bottom of the stairs, waving. “Do you have a sec?”

Natasha nods, going down. 

“First of all, wow. Brava”

“You wanted something?” she rolls her eyes, but you notice she blushes lightly.

It’s quite the view, Natasha’s body covered in sweat from the physical exertion, her sculpted arms in full display.

That tennis outfit looks really good on her.

“Oh.. yeah. Do you, uh, have time to meet a fan? She’s a little girl and you’re her favorite player”

“Of course” 

“Awesome, come with me!” you take her by the hand.

Natasha tries to ignore the tingling feeling she gets as she’s dragged around the center. Some people recognise her, but you’re walking fast and they don’t have the chance to stop her for a picture.

“Hey, Ava!” you greet the little girl, who’s holding a big tennis ball and a black marker. “Natasha, meet Ava. She’s your number one fan” 

“Hi,” the girl says shyly. She’s about nine, her mother standing next to her and smiling.

“Hi, Ava. It’s so nice to meet you” Natasha greets. “How are you liking the tournament so far?” 

“Uh, it was great, and you were so awesome today!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to sign that?”

“Yes, please!” her arms shoot forward, anxiously. 

“What other players would you like to meet?” Natasha says, as she signs the ball.

“Maybe Peter Parker… We met Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes and also, Wanda”

Yeah, Natasha didn’t miss the way Maximoff signed the ball. 

From the number 1 player to the number 1 fan. 

So pretentious.

“That’s nice,” Natasha says, handing the ball back.

“Alright, let’s take a picture” you pull out your phone. Natasha kneels to be closer to Ava, and then places her tennis hat on the girl’s head.

“You can have it” Natasha smiles and is surprised when she gets a very enthusiastic hug. Her mother has to practically drag her away from where you’re standing, Ava turning around every couple of steps to wave at Natasha.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say, smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I didn’t see you in today’s press conference”

“That’s because it’s my day off” you say, surprised that she noticed your absence.

“What about that thing?” she points at the badge hanging from your neck that reads Press.

“That’s how I get in for free, duh” 

“Sneaky” 

“I can be” you shrug your shoulders and then turn back to your phone. “Hey, so can I send this to your PR team for them to post it?” 

“You don’t have to” 

“Fine, I’ll post it on my feed and tag you. Alright, gotta go. Have to cheer for Bucky” you say, taking her hand one last time. “Once again, thank you. And congrats. You were fantastic”

“I owe you a question” she calls when you’re walking away.

“I’m saving it for when you win the championship” you wink and she smiles, scratching the side of her neck nervously.

Later that day, her phone is blasting with notifications.

“Almost one million likes, Natasha” Yelena shows her the picture you uploaded of her and Ava.

“Is that good or bad?” the redhead shrugs her shoulders and her sister rolls her eyes.

“You’re so uncool!” 

However, she knows enough about Instagram to find your profile, going through your feed. Most of the pictures are from different games, some hangout with friends, the most frequent ones being Barnes and a pro that plays for the Yankees, Sam Wilson.

She’s about to close the app when two things that are equally horrible happen.

First, she likes one of your pictures from two years ago.

Second, she gets a message.

OfficialWandaMaximoff: Congrats on your win today <3

--

Bucky just lost the second set and is down on the third one. You keep refreshing the feed as you wait next to other journalists for Wanda Maximoff. 

Of course she’s in the quarter finals, that’s hardly a shock. Everyone’s waiting for her to face Natasha in the finals. When it happens, you’re obviously rooting for Nat.

Speaking of which…

@SportsBrooklyn: Good luck tomorrow! 

@NatashaROfficial followed you back

@NatashaROfficial: Do you only use Instagram or can you text like a normal person?

@SportsBrooklyn: Oh, right, text you to the number I don’t have!

Wanda walks in that moment and you lock your phone. Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, and she changed to her signature red windbreaker and black pants.

You’re busy taking notes when your phone pings again. To your surprise, Natasha actually gave you her phone number.

@NatashaROfficial: If you share it with anyone else I’ll choke you

@SportsBrooklyn: Kinky ;)

The press conference ends and you practically sprint out to see if you can catch the rest of Bucky’s game.

You have to settle for the screens on the Champions Bar, comforted by the fact that Bucky seems to be ahead on the third set. As soon as he wins it, you stand up, knowing the break is the perfect time to slip into the player’s box.

“I’m so sorry” you say as you crash into none other than Wanda Maximoff. She grabs your arm to steady herself, smiling to ease you.

“That’s alright. You’re in a hurry?” she says, turning at the screen. 

“A bit, yeah” 

“I wish someone as cute as you was rooting for me” she smiles, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s flirting? Oh boy. “I noticed you looking at your phone during the press conference. Barnes is a lucky guy” 

“Oh, we’re not…” 

“Here I was thinking he was smarter than that”

There’s a sense of urgency to go before the break is over, but you’re also completely confused. Why is Wanda Maximoff taking an interest in a local reporter? You’re vaguely aware that her eyes drift somewhere behind you from time to time, but before you can turn and have a look, she pulls your press badge and smiles.

“If you ever want an exclusive, just let me know, Y/N…” she reads the name from your press badge and walks away, leaving you completely confused.

--

Natasha watches the entire interaction from her small table. She needed a break so she decided to put on a hat and glasses, to get a drink without being recognised.

Wanda was all over you, giggling and looking Natasha’s way as much as she could, to let her know this was entirely to upset her.

All Natasha wanted to do was stand up and take you away from Wanda. You were too good for someone like Maximoff.

Wanda thought she was making Natasha jealous. 

She was right, but not in the way she would have wanted to.

--

“Maybe it’s time I retire” 

“You’re 28” 

“Might as well be 100 in tennis years” 

“Buck” you nudge him.

You’re looking out the Brooklyn Bridge, trying to cheer up your best friend after losing in the round of 16.

“You won the Australian Open this year” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. See? I’m senile” he mumbles, still grumpy.

“You did great, and you’re still in the top five, Grumpa. Ha! See what I did there?” he rolls his eyes and you smile, pulling him back to the street. “Come on, Sam is waiting for us to have some lunch” 

“Ok, but it’s on you because I’ll be broke once I retire” 

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes, looping your arms together and dragging him to your favorite dinner. Sam’s already there, chatting around with everyone that recognises him.

All eyes turn to you as he stands up and practically shouts.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Sam greets you and then slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t make that face, man. You won the aussie one”

“That’s what I told him” 

Bucky takes his jacket off and orders a beer as soon as the waiter approaches you; even if it’s only noon, you let it slide.

You get a text from Darcy, asking if you’re watching the game.

Your mind instantly goes to Natasha. Did she lose? No, that can’t be. She was playing against Van Dyne, who was only there because of a wild card. You turn to one of the screens and ask the waiter to change the channel. 

“She’s winning” you say, still not understanding what Darcy meant.

“Why does she look so upset, then?” Sam points out.

Natasha is arguing with the umpire. You recognise him immediately.

“I hate that guy,” Bucky says, echoing your thoughts.

“Jarvis… something. Stone?” 

“Yeah, a total asshole. Wouldn’t give me a point I clearly won on Wimbledon because the other player was also a Brit” 

The argument ends and she keeps playing. Her forehand is killer today.

“Wow” Bucky says at the same time as you gasp.

“Man, I feel so dumb right now” Sam is looking between both of you, not knowing what caused your reaction.

“Just now? It’s more like, always” Bucky teases and Sam glares. He rolls his eyes and points at the screen. “Van Dyne hit after a double bounce. That’s not allowed. But Stone clearly doesn’t give a shit. He’s giving her the point”

“Natasha stopped playing because she saw it. He claims he didn’t so in his mind, she lost this one” you keep explaining.

“If Hope had a little bit of integrity, she’d concede the point or play it again”

“Well, she’s losing so she’ll take all the help she can get” you say. 

Natasha’s rage fuels her after this and she ends up winning, the second set a devastating 6-0.

However, the two men on the screen are being unsurprisingly critical of her. Your stomach turns when you hear the words “emotional” and “aggressive” thrown around.

Even if it’s a long shot, you try calling her. Phone’s off.

If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to see her once you get back to the stadium.

--

“Turn it off,” Natasha grumbles. Fury is watching the news in the living room. 

“I wanna see the highlights of other players. Prepare for what’s coming next. If you don’t like it, leave the room” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

After the game, Natasha did the mandatory press conference, went back to the lockers, destroyed two rackets, took a shower and then looked out the window for the better part of the day. 

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything and she didn’t want to turn on her phone. The temptation to read what the press and public had to say about her after today’s argument with the umpire was too big.

“Y/N, how are things at the US Open?” Maria Hill says. The screen splits, your image appearing on the right side.

“Exciting names on both sides for the semis. We have Thor against Banner, and T'Challa faces Namor for a spot in the semis. As for the ladies, Maximoff breezed through the match against Jean Gray”

“Well, I understand Romanoff didn’t have it so easy,” Maria says. 

From her seat, Natasha holds her breath. Yelena walks in at that exact moment, watching her sister closely.

“You know, I find it unbelievable that an umpire at the US Open could make such a poor call, not once but twice. First, with the hindrance call against Natasha and then by completely ignoring the double bounce before Van Dyne hit the ball” you say, clearly upset. “We’ve seen time and time again that some umpires are not up to the standards set by Grand Slams. And to my fellow journalists who like to throw around words like emotional, better save that energy for the men that smash their rackets just because they lost a point. As we all saw, Romanoff was in her right to demand fairness and she did it with the utmost respect” 

“Yes, I completely agree with you” Maria nods, clearly regretting even asking about it. “Well, let us chat tomorrow after we have the final for the men” 

“Of course, Maria,” you nod.

Natasha tries really hard, but she can’t help but smile at your words.

Yelena arches her eyebrows.

Well, this is interesting.

--

Natasha refuses to leave her room, arguing she’s not hungry. Melina, Yelena and Fury leave her alone, but the sudden silence becomes too much. There’s no noise to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

With a sigh, she turns on her phone. Two messages come through.

Y/N: Sorry about today. That umpire sucks :( 

Y/N: Bucky hates him too

Next thing she sees is a picture of Bucky and you holding your middle fingers to the screen with Jarvis’ face. Natasha chuckles at that.

She also zooms in, checking that your other hand is very close to Bucky’s. She feels a pang of jealousy that is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service” a strange voice says.

“I didn’t order any..:” she says, but finds you smiling on the other side of the door.

“Gotcha” 

“What are you doing here?” the redhead can’t help but smile. You’re wearing a black leather jacket, a white tee and skin tight jeans. She’s torn between admiring your figure and paying attention to what you say next.

“Little bird told me you were very upset and you might need a distraction” 

“I’m gonna kill Fury” 

“Not Nick. Your sister. And are we gonna find something to eat by standing here or…?”

“I’m not hungry” 

“We’re going, Natasha. Go get changed” you push past her, tired of waiting around in the hallway. She’s taken aback by your forwardness. Her mother and sister would usually let her get away with anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hoping you won’t go all the way to her room and pick an outfit for her.

“Something casual will do” 

She changes as fast as she can, taking her phone and some money with her. You nod approvingly and then open the door, peeking around the hallway.

“This little field trip is not Fury approved so let’s be discreet about it” you inform her, taking her hand to lead the way to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, this is super discreet” Natasha complains as you lead her to an electrical carriage. 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” you climb up, offering your hand. She takes and sits next to you. Natasha resists the urge to put a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean forward to give the address.

You feel her eyes on you, so you turn back, smiling and blushing lightly. 

It’s a short ride, and soon after you enter a small diner.

“Hey, Y/N” the owner greets you. “My, this must be a special occasion” she leans towards Natasha and whispers. “She’s never brought a girl over”

“Ok, Pat! Natasha is just a friend” you clarify, blushing in the process. Natasha laughs at you.

“Why? She’s pretty. You need to start dating” Pat says, leaving two menus.

“Don’t bother” you stop Natasha as she starts reading it. “She’ll bring us whatever she wants. But it will be worth it, I promise”

“Do you come here often?”

“My dad couldn’t cook if his life depended on it. But he was always good at finding the best spots to eat. So we came here all the time during the US Open and then later when Bucky started training”

Natasha nods and looks away. 

“So, you’re not dating Barnes either?” she says, looking anywhere but you. It’s embarrassing how much she cares.

“Uh.. no. He’s like a brother to me. His parents worked a lot so he’d tag along to games with us, and we grew up together” you wait until she turns to look at you. “Can I ask now?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Do you see my press badge anywhere?”

“One never knows with you people”

“Ouch, Natasha” the redhead laughs but you ask anyway. “Are you dating anyone? You’ve never been public about it”

“I’m not, no. I just don’t think I’d be able to find the balance. Between tennis and a partner. And my public and private life”

“Fair enough” you say. Pat approaches with milkshakes, cheeseburgers and fries.

“I hope you girls are hungry”

“Starving” 

“Fury’s gonna kill me” Natasha sighs, but then dips a fry in the milkshake and practically moans at the taste.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, and your teeth clash at how fast you shut it when Natasha turns to you.

“You’re right, this is worth it”

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking about everything but tennis. You learn that Natasha likes to bake in her free time, and that Yelena is taking a sabbatical before moving to New York to study at NYU.

After finishing your food, you both agree that walking back will be the best idea. 

“I’m so full” you complain as you enter through the back, too scared to be caught by Fury. Natasha walks in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Uh, what are you doing? I don’t want your coach all over my ass if you’re missing” 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” she echoes your words from before and you have no choice but to follow her. You end up on a tennis court, balls scattered around the floor.

“Do you practice here?”

“If I can’t sleep” Natasha picks up a ball and a racket and hands it to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Play with me”

“I can’t even serve, Natasha”

“Well, would you like to learn?” she says with a smirk and you can’t resist it.

“Fine. But after that, you go back to your room”

“Stance first” Natasha instructs. She corrects your posture and movements a couple of times, inching closer until she’s whispering instructions in your ear. The last thing she does is put her hands over yours to make sure your grip is tight. “Show me what you got”

She steps away and you miss her presence instantly. Trying to remember everything she told you, you toss the ball in the air and swing a little too hard. You trip over your own feet, but Natasha moves forward and catches you before you fall.

“You ok?” she says and you nod.

“How did I do, coach?” you steady yourself, holding her close to you. Your eyes travel to her lips, and you’re both out of breath from laughing.

Neither one can tell who leans first, but the fact is that you do and you discover, with great pleasure and no surprise, that Natasha is an excellent kisser. Her lips are soft against yours and she pulls you closer by your waist.

“Is this a new way of interviewing people, Y/L/N?” 

Oh, shit.

You break apart and turn to Fury, who looks very much not impressed.

“The only cardio you’re allowed to do until this slam is over is at the gym, Romanoff. Back to your room, now” 

“I’m not a little girl you can boss around,” Natasha protests.

“Come on, you should rest. We’ll talk later” you don’t want her to start arguing with Fury, not now that she’s finally listening to him. Natasha turns to you and nods, squeezing your hand one last time before going back to the hotel.

“I don’t want her distracted,” Fury says and you nod. 

“I wasn’t trying to… I won’t get in her way, Nick. I want her to win”

“Glad we understand each other. Now go home” 

He turns to leave and you wait for a little bit, trying to calm down after a mindblowing kiss. As you’re about to leave, you spot a yellow bracelet on the ground. You’ve seen Natasha wearing one before, but you’re too scared of Fury to go back now.

Tomorrow will be a new day for all of you.

--

“Keep your leg behind the ball” Fury instructs. Natasha has been listening to every single thing he says.

Yes, she’s nervous about the semis. And Fury’s the only one that can understand the feeling or help her play better.

“I want you focused,” he says as she walks to dry her hands.

“I am”

“You know what I mean” he says and as if on cue, you walk up to the court, waving. Natasha places the racket down and approaches you. “Practice isn’t over, Romanoff!”

“Five minutes” she asks, meeting you on the edge of the court.

“Hi”

“Hi” she says back. Her eyes go down to your lips and your heart flutters.

“Uh, you left… I think this is yours” you remember to speak, showing the yellow bracelet.

“Yes, thank you. Do you mind?” Natasha extends her hand and you put it around her wrist. “Yelena gave it to me before my first match. It’s my lucky charm”

“Well, good thing I saw it”

“Maybe you’ll be my next lucky charm”

“Oh? Am I supposed to be at every game from now on?” you smile, nodding when you’re done with the bracelet.

“I really wanna kiss you” Natasha blurts out and you blush. “But…”

“There are people watching and Fury doesn’t look happy either”

“He never does. Can I call you later?”

“Yes, you definitely can”

You want to kiss her so bad, damn it.

“Come on, go back, before Fury kicks me out of the court”

Natasha nods, squeezing your hand gently.

The way Natasha looks at you makes you all kinds of flustered, so you leave in a hurry before your desire takes over and you end up kissing her in front of all these people.

Once again, you run into Wanda Maximoff, only this time she doesn’t smile at all.

“She’s quite the player, right?” she says with a cold voice, her accent a bit thicker.

“Uh- yes. Natasha is a very talented pro”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant” she takes a step forward and looks you up and down. “Natasha likes to fuck around. But she always comes back to me”

“You’re… together?” your heart drops. Natasha wouldn’t lie to you about this.

Would she?

“Look, of course she wants to get distracted and she’ll use anyone that is dumb enough to fall for it. But don’t forget, she and I have history. And that’s stronger than whatever it is you think you have with Natasha”

No one is around to save you from this horrible conversation. You don’t want to argue with Wanda, because you’re still a journalist and it’s your job to be on the players’ good side.

But the reckless part of you wants to tell her to fuck off.

You sigh and look down. Wanda takes this as a sign of defeat and smiles, leaving you standing there.

It takes a minute for you to snap out of it, and you look around, desperate to walk away from everything that just happened.

—

“You’re seriously telling me you know nothing?” you ask Bucky for the tenth time.

“I don’t pay attention to rumors” he shrugs his shoulders, and you roll your eyes at him.

He’s sitting on your couch, the movie long forgotten. You nudge him with your foot and glare.

“Your best friend is a journalist, you should know better. You’re my insider into this crap”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just not on the loop of who dates who on the women’s side. But I am not surprised Wanda scared you. Heard she can be batshit crazy”

“She didn’t scare me” you mumble. The both of you sit in silence for a while, until your phones ping simultaneuosly.

Thankfully, it’s not Nat. Right now, you don’t even know what to say to her.

“Sam. Probably to brag about his date in that fancy restaurant” Bucky tells you, but his eyes widen as he reads the message. “Wow. You need to look at this”

He hands you the phone and you read the conversation. It’s your group chat and Sam just sent a picture of Jarvis Stone, who is having dinner with none other than Wanda Maximoff.

“What the actual fu…”

“So that’s why he was being a dick to Natasha” Bucky says. “You’re not telling her about this, are you?”

“No, of course not. She has the semis tomorrow and I don’t want to distract her”

You look at your phone and press send before you chicken out.

Y/N: Can we talk tomorrow?

YBelova: Sure

—

You’re waiting by the entrance to Arthur Ashe, looking around.  Even if Maximoff’s match is later, you are still dreading to spot Wanda.

“Hey” Yelena says and you jump like a coward. “Wow, relax, it’s me”

“I’m sorry to be meeting you like this. I didn’t want to bother Natasha, especially today… she has enough on her plate”

“It’s ok, you can trust me”

“I know I can… it’s not easy to ask this, but do you know if Wanda and Natasha had a… thing? Like a relationship”

“Are you asking as a journalist?” the blonde says, clearly on edge.

“No, it’s not like that! Natasha and I… we kissed. And then Wanda told me yesterday that Natasha is just fooling around because she always comes back to her… and that’s weird but then a friend sent me this. It’s from last night”

“That’s the umpire that was a jerk to Tasha” Yelena takes your phone, looking at it in desbelief. “That bitch is still pulling this shit”

“If it had been only about us, I would have waited until Natasha finished her match. But it seems to me, like Wanda is trying to play dirty here”

Yelena sighs and hands the phone back. She looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Yes, they dated. Kept it a secret. It was on and off, especially when they were playing against each other. Wanda didn’t like to lose and then, after a while, she began to mess around with Nat. She would have a fight with her before a big match, even if they weren’t playing each other. Made Natasha lose her cool and struggle. They really haven’t spoken since the AO”

“What do we do? I don’t want her to mess with Natasha. I won’t let Wanda get in her way”

“I’ll speak to Fury about this. He knows everything. I’ll let you know what he says”

“Didn’t know you two were friends now”

A voice calls from behind you.

“Seestra, hey!” Yelena steps forward to give you time to recover. “Y/N was just telling me about her time at NYU”

“Is that so?” the redhead looks between you two and you nod.

She stills makes you nervous and flustered.

“Alright, my presence is no longer required” Yelena complains, but still gives you a meaningful look as she walks away.

“I have to warm up, will you stay for the game?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course I will. I’ll be screaming your name” you blurt out and then blush. “I mean, rooting for you. Didn’t mean it to sound like that”

“Sounds good to me” she says, coming closer. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You look at her smile, her beautiful green eyes. Think about all the times she’s been kind and funny and brave. And you also think about how someone played with her heart just for a stupid title.

So you nod and lean forward, kissing her gently.

Natasha deserves to win, not only because she’s the better player. She’s the better person.

“Go win this thing” you say against her lips and she smiles, pecking your lips one last time.

—

Natasha’s win is not a surprise to you, considering the level of her recent games. You still have to stick around for the Maximoff match, opting to stay far away from the press room once she wins.

So, it’s down to the two of them in the final.

You’ve never wished for Natasha to win something so much until today.

Work keeps you busy enough. Both of the men’s semis take a combined time of eight hours and you end up completely exhausted, seriously considering just sleeping in one of the locker rooms.

You haven’t heard from Natasha but it’s understandable. She’s playing for the championship tomorrow, and knowing Fury, he will be preparing her in every way possible.

As you get a cup of coffee from one of the last stands open, your phone pings again.

Natasha: Are you still here?

Y/N: Yes :(

Natasha: Meet me in court 17?

Y/N: Yes :)

When you finally get there, you find Natasha serving a couple of times, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is Fury ok with you staying up so late?”

“I did everything he said today. I think I deserve this one thing” she smiles, walking towards you. “You look a bit tired”

“Jeez, thanks”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh, Yelena is right, I have no game off court”

You laugh at that, taking her hands in yours.

“It’s fine, I was just teasing you” you say, looking as her eyes drift towards your lips. You both lean forward, sharing a kiss.

“Thank you” Natasha says.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean the kiss, no. Thank you for telling Yelena that thing about… Wanda”

“Oh”

Natasha walks with you to one of the chairs and you sit together.

“I haven’t spoken to her in months. And I don’t want to be with her. I need you to know that”

“But still… you said you’re not sure you want a relationship, right? It would be too much trouble”

“I think it might be worth the effort for you” she confesses and you smile.

“You do have game”

“I do?”

“Tiny bit. We’ll work on it”

She laughs, and you sit in silence for a moment.

“I made my debut in this court”

“I know”

“How…?”

You sigh. Since you’re sharing stories…

“After my dad died, I kinda took distance from the things we did together. That included all kinds of sports. It was a painful reminder. And then, as the USO was starting, I realised he had already bought our tickets. So I came here, walked around a bit. And then I saw you”

Natasha smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Your hair was shorter, and you were wearing a weird orange top with green shorts” you frown as you remember how awful it looked.

“My mom chose it for me!” the redhead buries her face in her hands and you laugh. You take them in yours as you continue the story.

“You were amazing that day. Controlled, precise… I forgot for a little while about how sad I was. And after you won, I came back everyday to watch you play”

“Thank you for telling me that. I wish I could have known your father”

“I would have liked that too”

There’s silence as you both think about your own journies, the things that brought you to this moment.

“Come on, we should go. You need your rest” you stand up, offering your hand to Natasha. She thinks for a moment before taking it, but instead of standing up she pulls you down until you’re sitting on her lap, your legs around her.

“Nat?” you gulp, blushing at how close you are.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop” she whispers, kissing your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Holy shit, no, don’t stop” you plead, tangling your fingers in her red hair.

“Locker room?”

“Lead the way” you kiss her frantically, hoping no one sees you.

Once you arrive there, Natasha smiles and your heart stops for a second.

“Ready to scream my name?”

—

There’s warmth. And a nice pressure. Some tingling on your back. Like a soft touch.

You open your eyes in an unknown room, trying to remember where you are. As you turn around you find Natasha fast asleep, her arm around your middle.

“Nat?” you call for her, hoping no one walks in any time soon.

“Five more minutes” she mumbles against your skin.

“Nat, wake up” you plead.

As it turns out, she only reacts when Yelena kicks the door, walking in on you naked under the sheets.

“Happy finals day seestra—-ah! Naked”

“Yelena what is wrong?” to your horror, Melina joins her daughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds!”

“WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOCK HERE” Natasha screams, putting the sheets above her head.

“Sorry”  Melina says, dragging away Yelena.

“Yeah, sorry” Yelena echoes, sounding anything but.

As you both get dressed, the memories of last night come back to you.

After your rendezvous -and almost getting caught by security- you decided it would be better to continue elsewhere. You blush as images of Natasha moaning, kissing and pleasuring you also come back.

“Hey” she approaches you as you walk to the door. “You ok? You look a little…”

“Flustered?” you say, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, yes. I’m sorry about them walking in”

“Last night was… amazing”

“Yeah?” she circles your waist with her hands and pulls you closer. “How amazing?”

“Like winning all Grand Slams in the same year kind of amazing” your hands go around her neck and you pull her for a kiss.

“Wow, that’s big talk” Natasha comments agains your lips. And as she’s about to kiss you, Fury walks in.

“Romanoff! What did I tell you about that cardio”

“For the love of God, knock!” Natasha says, defeated.

“Don’t worry, Fury, I promise she was laying down for the most part” you wink at the man.

“Stay for breakfast” Melina invites as she’s setting the suite’s table with all the room service.

“This has been sufficiently awkward, thank you. And I also imagine you have stuff to do”

“You need to stay hydrated. How much liquid did you lose?” Fury says, going around the kitchen like a headless chicken.

“Fury, I haven’t seen her this relaxed in months. My sister will be fine” Yelena comments.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Of course. I’m on press duty”

“Come to the player’s box” Melina says.

“Would that be wise?” you ask and everyone shares a look. “What I mean is, we want to make Wanda think her plan worked, right? If she sees me there she’ll know we are on to her”

“I don’t care what she thinks. I want you there” Natasha takes your hand and you smile.

“Alright. I’ll be there. See you later” you kiss her cheek and smile.

“Byeee” Melina and Yelena say, and you realise that Natasha will have to deal with their questions.

Well, if she can deal with the press, she can deal with her family.

—

The day goes by in a blur, and as the match approaches, you feel more anxious. God, how does Natasha do this? If it were you with the world watching, you’d probably break down the minute you step into the court.

“Hello there” Yelena greets as you meet at the player’s entrance of Arthur Ashe.  “Ever been here?”

“Just once, with Bucky”

It’s hard to forget the luxurious facilities where players can get food, special gifts, some physio or workout before their matches.

“He won last year, right?”

“Yes” you smile at the memory. “How is Natasha doing?”

“She’s done with warmup, she had something light to eat and she seems ready. She’s also been smiling like an idiot all day, even if Fury kept her away from her phone”

“I want her to win, so whatever it takes” you smile at the blonde, and follow her to the lounge, where Natasha is waiting with Melina. The redhead smiles as soon as she spots you and you kiss her on the cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a complete wreck”

“You got this. Remember she prefers short games, she also doesn’t like to volley or come close to the net. And people say her forehand is killer but she goes too far behind her back, so use it against her”

“Y/N?” she interrupts your rambling. “All of that is fine advice, but I already have Nick on my back 24/7”

“Right, sorry”

“You know what he doesn’t provide?”

“Hm?”

“Good luck kisses”

“That’s right, it’s above my paygrade” Fury says. “Say your goodbyes now”

Melina and Yelena hug her, Fury squeezes her shoulder and then they give you some space.

“Go win this thing” you say, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

Natasha leans her forehead against yours and smiles.

She’s ready.

—

Natasha comes out first, and the crowd goes wild.

Wanda is close behind her; you catch her staring at you, clearly shocked that you’re next to Nat’s family.

“Who’s losing focus now?” Yelena says with a cheerful voice and you can’t help but smile.

The game begins and it is very clear that Natasha is playing aggressively. She has an ace on every game and there are hardly any break points for Wanda. It’s been 30 minutes and the score is 5-2.

“She’s cooked,” Fury says, looking at Wanda. You shake your head.

“Maximoff has an insane record after losing the first set, you know that”

And in fact, she does lose the first set. As always, the crowd loves to cheer on the underdog, so they go wild when Wanda wins the first two games of the second set.

“Come on, Tasha” you scream, and she looks your way, smiling. In no time, they’re tied.

“What are the odds on a tiebreak?” Yelena asks.

“It can go either way” you sigh, confirming that it will happen as they reach 6-6.

Natasha is playing fast and hard, giving no time for Wanda to recover.

But as she serves for the match, Wanda challenges the call in the most disruptive way possible.

It was in, but since Nat stopped playing the point goes to Wanda.

“That’s bullshit” Yelena says under her breath and you nod.

Sure enough, Natasha zones out and goes from match point to losing the second set.

“Dear Lord” Fury says, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Maximoff looks exhausted, Nick. Natasha is doing great. She didn’t give away the second set. She’ll do this”

The third set begins, the first four games a close call. Deuce is called when they’re tied at 2, and you know that whoever wins this point will end up winning the match.

Every time Wanda has an advantage, Natasha comes back and breaks. Even when the Sokovian is serving, it doesn’t stop Natasha from pulling her back to 40-40. The Russian is a wall, and Wanda seems to lose hope as time passes.

And then, it happens.

Wanda has a double fault that gives Natasha the advantage. Followed by a double fault that gives her a break.

“Yes” Fury claps, trying to keep it together.

As the score approaches 5, your heart beats faster. Once again, 5-2.

Natasha serving for the match.

An ace.

The crowd goes wild.

The second ball goes out of the court when Wanda hits it.

Then, a double fault.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s 30-15 and then 30-30. All Natasha needs are two more points to win.

She searches for your face in the crowd and you smile, nodding.

“You’re going to win” you say and she smiles.

Another ace.

The screens show the “championship point” sign.

Wanda doesn’t make it easy for her. She’s like a wounded animal that has nothing to lose, so she runs, she answers every throw with a groan, she comes to the net.

But when Natasha does her signature dropshot, Wanda tries to run, reaches too late and the ball bounces one, two, three times.

“Game, set, match, Romanoff”

“Fuck, YEEES” Yelena screams, standing up and cheering.

It’s all a blur, Natasha falling to the ground and covering her face. Walking to the net to shake Wanda’s hand, and then  the umpire’s.

After, she walks among the crowd, trying to reach her box. Yelena is the first to jump, their mother hugging them both and crying.

Fury looks like he’s about to cry as Natasha hugs him. You’re certainly crying happy tears as you watch them.

And then, she walks past him and picks you up from the ground, kissing you in front of the entire stadium.

“Congrats, Nat” you say against her lips.

“I’ll be right back” she promises when the security guard asks her to come back for the ceremony.

“You owe me a question”

“Save it for the next championship” she says against your lips and you kiss again, in spite of the guard’s insistence and with the crowd cheering you on.

—

It’s been six more slam titles, two years of tours around the world.

Natasha still owes you a question.

You’re saving it for a time when you’re both ready, and you’ll ask her to marry you.

[simply-ivanka]

Who’s Afraid of Project 2025?

Democrats run against a think-tank paper that Trump disavows. Why?

Wall Street Journal

July 29, 2024

By The Editorial Board

Americans are learning more about Kamala Harris, as Democrats rush to anoint the Vice President’s candidacy after throwing President Biden overboard. Ms. Harris wasted no time saying she’s going to run hard against a policy paper that Donald Trump has disavowed—the supposedly nefarious agenda known as Project 2025. But who’s afraid of a think-tank white paper?

“I will do everything in my power to unite the Democratic Party—and unite our nation—to defeat Donald Trump and his extreme Project 2025 agenda,” Ms. Harris tweeted shortly after President Biden dropped out. She’s picking up this ball from Mr. Biden, and her campaign website claims that Project 2025 would “strip away our freedoms” and “abolish checks and balances.”

***

Sounds terrible, but is it? The 922-page document doesn’t lack for modesty, as a wish list of policy reforms that would touch every part of government from the Justice Department to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The project is led by the Heritage Foundation and melds the work of some 400 scholars and analysts from an eclectic mix of center-right groups. The project is also assembling a Rolodex of those who might work in a Trump Administration.

Most of the Democratic panic-mongering has focused on the project’s aim to rein in the administrative state. That includes civil service reform that would make it easier to remove some government workers, and potentially revisiting the independent status of agencies like the Federal Trade Commission.

The latter isn’t going to happen, but getting firmer presidential control over the bureaucracy would improve accountability. The federal government has become so vast that Presidents have difficulty even knowing what is going on in the executive branch. Americans don’t want to be ruled by a permanent governing class that doesn’t answer to voters.

Some items on this menu are also standard conservative fare. The document calls for an 18% corporate tax rate (now 21%), describing that levy as “the most damaging tax” in the U.S. system that falls heavily on workers. A mountain of economic literature backs that up. The blueprint suggests tying more welfare programs with work; de-regulating health insurance markets; expanding Medicare Advantage plans that seniors like; ending sugar subsidies; revving up U.S. energy production. That all sounds good to us.

Democrats are suggesting the project would gut Social Security, though in fact it bows to Mr. Trump’s preference not to touch the retirement program, which is headed for bankruptcy without reform. No project can profess to care about the rising national debt, as Heritage does, without fixing a program that was 22% of the federal budget in 2023.

At times the paper takes no position. For example: The blueprint features competing essays on trade policy. This is a tacit admission that for all the GOP’s ideological confusion on economics, many conservatives still understand that Mr. Trump’s 10% tariff is a terrible idea.

As for the politics, Mr. Trump recently said online that he knew “nothing about Project 2025. I have no idea who is behind it.” That may be true. The chance that Mr. Trump has read any of it is remote to nil, and he doesn’t want to be tied to anyone’s ideas since he prizes maximum ideological flexibility.

The document mentions abortion nearly 200 times, but Mr. Trump wants to neutralize that issue. The project’s chief sponsor, Heritage president Kevin Roberts, also gave opponents a sword when he boasted of “a second American revolution” that would be peaceful “if the left allows it to be.” This won’t help Mr. Trump with the swing voters he needs to win re-election.

By our lights the project’s cultural overtones are also too dark and the agenda gives too little spotlight to the economic freedom and strong national defense that defined the think tank’s influence on Ronald Reagan in 1980.

***

But the left’s campaign against Project 2025 is reaching absurd decibels. You’d think Mr. Trump is a political mastermind hiding the secret plans he’ll implement with an army of shock troops marching in lockstep. If his first term is any guide, and it is the best we have, Mr. Trump will govern as a make-it-up-as-he-goes tactician rather than a strategist with a coherent policy guide. He’ll dodge and weave based on the news cycle and often based on whoever talks to him last.

Not much of the Project 2025 agenda is likely to happen, even if Republicans take the House and Senate. Democrats will block legislation with a filibuster. The bureaucracy will leak with abandon and oppose even the most minor reforms to the civil service. The press will revert to full resistance mode, and Mr. Trump’s staff will trip over their own ambitions.

Democrats know this, which is why they fear Trump II less than they claim. They’re targeting Project 2025 to distract from their own failed and unpopular policies.

[liberalsarecool]

Our rigged tax codes have created so many advantages for the privileged. Corporate tax, personal tax, and inheritance tax have all been slashed. Entities can pass on wealth with no tax.

These lost tax revenues created deficits. We were on track to keep up with Boomers retiring, but Bush tax cuts and Trump tax cuts destroyed it all.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Twenty-One

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 21

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] Part Twenty-One [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three][Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You barely contain a sigh of relief as you sit down next to Grandmother.

Perhaps yesterday’s gala’s events were more mentally taxing as you tried to keep Dale’s hands out of sight long enough for the detection colors from Dr. Louisa’s gloves to fade—not to mention the conversation preceding that mess—but today was tiring in an entirely different manner. You’ve been kept on your feet nearly the entire day and you are exhausted. Between inspecting various buildings all over the city for hours to start with and an evening spent dancing, you want nothing more than to be still.

Some of that sentiment must still be evident from your facial expression as Grandmother reaches over to pat your hand. “Have you been enjoying the dancing, dear?”

“Yes, Grandmother, but I believe I am finished for the night,” you reply and she smiles.

“I am glad you have been taking advantage of the vigors of youth while you have them,” Grandmother says. She looks over to where Grandfather is sitting and talking to a musician across the room. “Would that we were able to still dance as you do. Alas, all we have to show for our years are aching joints and lovely children.” She winks at you.

You smile back and gratefully accept the water glass your maid pours for you with a murmured thanks. While you rest, Grandmother bids good night to a number of said children and grandchildren, leaving you longing to follow them. Yours and Dale’s roles as the guests of honor make it unclear when exactly it is socially acceptable for you to depart. You’ve often been staying at least as long as Grandmother and Grandfather, if not an hour beyond them so as to ensure you spoke to all guests and showed your hosts proper respect.

You truly hope that will not be the case tonight because you’re not sure you’ll make it that late.

Dale joins you with Francesca and Charles, his cousins, who then depart themselves having sent their children up with a maid hours ago. Dale sits next to you but talks primarily with Grandmother, chatting about the others he’s been speaking to while you resist the urge to fall asleep in your chair.

A few moments later Dale says your name, rousing you. Straightening, you find you’ve indeed ended up leaning quite heavily against the back and side of your chair closest to him. Heat warms your face at practically falling asleep against Dale at a gala. “Yes?”

“Do you wish to retire for the evening?” Dale asks, his expression kind and nonjudgmental. You can hear the offer to retire as well and are grateful for it.

“I know that it is not as late as some nights have been,” you say, unable to keep from feeling somewhat defensive—after all it wasn’t even midnight yet, though it was close. “But it has been a long day. I am ready for sleep.”

“I agree,” Dale replies easily, he reaches down and squeezes your hand where it sits on the arm rest closest to him. “And we have plenty of errands to run tomorrow.”

He’s right. There are no balls or galas tomorrow. Instead you’ll be taking advantage of the time in the city to inspect the progress on the completion of various wedding clothing, decorations, food and so on to be sent on ahead to the estate. In fact, the only social event is a small dinner at the mayor’s home in the evening which is fine with you.

Besides, there’s another reason you want to be well rested for tomorrow. That had been the day marked “SECRETS” on the astrologer’s calendar. You still have no notion as to what that could mean, however, you do expect that you should be well rested for whatever it turns out to be.

“If you young ones are all already turning in, then I shall too,” Grandmother announces. “Dale, your aid, my boy.”

Dale is nearly already standing up to walk over to his Grandmother’s side, picking up her cane along with his own. You try to perk up enough to be helpful, finishing off your drink and supporting Grandmother’s other arm as she gets to her feet.

Grandmother’s maid is sent ahead to prepare her rooms, while the three of you, in addition to your own maid, begin to make your way to the guest quarters you’ve occupied this week in the Governor’s home. You’re grateful he’s allowed you to have an entire, if smaller, wing to yourselves. Such privacy means that any continuing festivities don’t upset your sleep, which given how busy these days have been, is critical.

You’ve made it halfway across the room when Grandfather walks over to you at a pace too quick for how tiring a day this has been, even if he hasn’t danced as much as you have. “Dale, there you are,” he looks triumphant as he continues, “Marquis Tiffin has finally stopped occupying Duke Yoral’s sole attention. You wished to speak to him, did you not?”

Dale’s eyes light up—only metaphorically—before he turns to you and Grandmother. “I did, however…”

“If you wish to stay, dear, do not let us steal you away too soon,” Grandmother says. “You’re a good lad, wanting to accompany me back to my rooms, but your fiance will be help enough. Enjoy yourself.”

“Yes,” you encourage him. “I know you had been attempting to talk to him all evening.” This Duke was the brother of a friend of his from abroad and he wanted to discuss sourcing certain ingredients for more foreign meals with him, in addition to comparing general travel stories as he had helped Dale’s group plan their trip.

“Thank you,” Dale replies with a grin at you both. After resettling Grandmother’s hold to your arm instead of his, he turns to Grandfather, “Are you sure you want to join us? Perhaps even the discussion of certain spices might cause your cough to come back.”

Grandfather elbows Dale in response to his teasing, “Impudent lad. Introduce me to your friend with all due respect and perhaps I shall refrain from sharing tales of your foolish youth.”

They leave in a cheery mood while Grandmother smiles after them. “I am so pleased to have Dale home where he belongs. He went through such a trying adolescence after being away at the capital.”

You hum noncommittally, but Grandmother needs no real prompting to continue to reminisce as you make your way through the quieter and cooler halls away from the main ballrooms. She only interrupts herself when you reach a large branching path before your wing. “Miss Adir, could you please go to the kitchens and see if there are any pasties that can be sent up to my granddaughter’s rooms?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“My eyesight might be going, but I can still make observations. You never eat enough at these events, she fusses. “We shall have to have your measurements checked at the final fitting tomorrow.”

“The food at these events are so rich,” you protest. “Surely there hasn’t been such a difference in only a few weeks.”

“And still we shall verify the truth,” Grandmother insists. “Dale as well, though for the opposite eventuality. I informed those tailors of his ill state, reminding them to leave room for him to return to his healthier weight. I shall be interested in seeing if they listened.

“If there is anything else that needs doing, we must ensure that it is done tomorrow or our next free day in two days time. This is our last week in Connton before we return to the Northridge estate for your wedding,” Grandmother reminded you unnecessarily. “Only two more galas here. A pity, these have been so invigorating.”

You can’t help but shake your head silently to yourself, unable to find these events anything but exhausting, even if you enjoy aspects of them. Grandmother is an entirely different sort, seeming to be rejuvenated by so much activity and people.

Even now, she seems far more awake than you are, easily chatting while you feel as though you’ve used up all your words an hour ago.

You roll your shoulders, trying to dissipate the tension in them from so much activity—the danger of hosting a ball and inviting a dance troupe and their sponsors. The fewer candles and torches in this area of the house leave the light sparser and make you feel sleepier, makes the promise of slumber whisper more convincingly in your ears.

Still, you remember exactly what tips you off that something is wrong. 

Habit from these last few weeks has you watching every shadow and steering others away if they move oddly, in case Dale has a lapse in control. You’re only reacting on instinct when you see the candlelight flicker dramatically, the shadows pool unnaturally on Grandmother’s right. You pull Grandmother closer to you and quicken your step abruptly, wanting to get out of the way, not wanting her to notice.

 It’s the clash of metal the next second, the force and crack of something whizzing by both of you and into the opposite wall that makes you jump, heart hammering in your chest. Your mind catches up with your actions because Dale is nowhere in sight. Who is causing these things to happen? Are you under attack?

“Guards!” Grandmother calls out. Her voice rings through the space with all the command of a general on a battlefield and causes one of the people who are in fact attacking you to curse. 

There isn’t any way for you to tell if someone heard your call for help even as she repeats it. Without thinking about what to do next, you hitch up your skirts with your free hand and start to run down the hall with her in tow. More figures come after you from behind and out of the corners of your eyes. 

A wordless cry has you stumbling to the side as a person overshoots past you and through a doorway. Multiple people, at least three, dressed in dark clothing have come as suddenly as if they had materialized from nothing—all heading after you.

You dodge another projectile and turn the corner, flattening against the far wall. Frantically you try to remember where exactly you are in this stranger’s house and you realize you missed the turn back towards the more inhabited portion of the building in your haste. 

You don’t know what to do, paralyzed with fear and indecision, until the wall at your back falls away causing you to take a surprised step backwards. “Hurry,” Grandmother says, having realized you were backed against a door and gotten it open while your mind had still been trying to understand what was happening.

You turn and both go through, slamming the door behind you as you try to gain your bearings. You can barely take stock of the study you find yourself in before continuing forward as fast as you are able to. Your shoes are thin and pretty and so you feel the stone floor in this room harshly as you race across it. Your palm is sweaty from where it’s clutching Grandmother’s as you steer you both, her having lost her cane at some point and relying on you for that speed of movement you’re desperately trying to gain.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, every instinct attempting to help you to survive, for all the good it's doing. Your mind races wildly, thoughts of escape and who these people could be flickering through. Why are they attacking you? What do they want? Where can you go to get away?

Then all you can think of besides ‘get away’ is the ache in your arm, the burning in your lungs, the soreness in your feet.

Unfortunately, there was no way to lock the door you came through and so soon it’s quickly kicked back open. The sound of it hitting the wall makes you run faster, trying to get through this suite of rooms to the courtyard entrance you spot on the other side, where you can feel the cooling breeze beckoning you to escape—or get somewhere someone would be able to hear you.

Two arrows fly by your head and another causes Grandmother to yelp and falter, nearly tripping as she suddenly leans much heavier on you. You can’t check to see if the arrow grazed her, too focused on trying to get to the other door, when the shadows darken in those billowing curtains. At the last second you turn to the right, propelling Grandmother that way too. As you do so, you see the thinner of these, these assassins appear, daggers drawn and ready to impale you exactly where you’d been running too.

Not that you’re convinced you’ve managed to end up in a better position. You steered the two of you to the other side of the room, hopping for another door out, but the one you pull open in the end is only a closet. You whirl around to see four figures in black, fanned out and blocking any possible escape route. Panting, you brace Grandmother, who you haven’t looked to but sounds to be in worse shape given her age and possible injury. Her heavy breathing has a wheeze to it you don’t like. So does the fact that she’s not speaking up any more.

“Well now ladies,” the tallest man speaks, his voice low and condescending. He’s smug too, like the cat that got the mouse, as he steps forward twirling a dagger. “You don’t seem to have our prize stallion with you as we expected, but I’m certain his filly and granny will make perfect bait.”

[Part Twenty-Two]

[trainsinanime]

Writing prompt (that I'm sure someone's done already):

You were a leader of a rebellion. The king was locked in his castle by his advisor, who wanted fame and glory for himself and didn't care about the people. But now you managed to kill that advisor. As thanks and a public show of trust, the king has appointed you to be his new chief advisor.

And it turns out this job is more difficult than it seems. Cutting down on unjust imprisonments, sure, that's easy. But the massive taxes? It turns out the previous advisor hid all the kingdom's gold and the coffers are empty. The ruinous war with your neighbours? If you fold now, your neighbours will demand retribution. Better to secure a strategic advantage first before suing for peace.

Luckily, the king and you are on the same wavelength. The old era is over, this will be a time of justice and peace, even if the way there is stony. Governing is full of compromises, and the decisions of the last guy don't just stop having effect just because his head is on a spike.

And the king is gracious and complimentary of all your efforts. New policies that you and him worked out together over many late evenings? He lets you hold the speeches that announce them, and makes sure that you, the hero, are on everyone's mind, as a symbol of the new era.

But then you start hearing rumours. It turns out the spy reports that are supposed to go to you directly? There's a second version that goes to the king, and it's rather different. The people are murmuring about the supposed hero, who seems to be not too dissimilar from the previous advisor, even establishing his own cult of personality. The missing gold, well, a lot of it wasn't missing, it was just that the treasurer didn't tell you about some of the spending the king did.

Before too long you realise the undeniable truth. You are not here as an advisor at all. You're here as a scapegoat. All the selfish policies get blamed on you. And what can you do? You can hold speeches, but the public already doesn't trust advisors in general and you in particular. If you were to accuse the popular, kind king, the father of the nation, you know you'll end up being the next head on a spike in an instant. But then, becoming a head on a spike is your retirement plan either way.

How do you deal when you realise you're the good-hearted advisor to the cruel and selfish king?

[kalena-henden]

I’m loving The Midnight Romance in Hagwon. It’s really a slow burn friends to lovers. They’ve known each other for so long and always had a special connection but because of the age gap and power dynamics their relationship stayed platonic. Since he decided to join the academy with her, you can see them sacrificing for and worrying about each other. They’ve been carefully poking and prodding each other with work and personal boundaries. I love when he asked her if she could ‘read between the lines’ because that’s literally their job as language teachers and it’s what we as an audience have been doing as well. Both for her benefit and ours, it’s his version of ‘can I be anymore obvious?’  LOL

It’s so cute how lowkey and awkward they are about their burgeoning feelings. He’s barely holding on by a thread but Hyejin admitting she liked the way Junho upended her ridged, overly planned, workaholic life to make her want more. *clutches heart* He’s probably dated but she’s been dedicated to her job to the point of no social life. She a bit unsure of how to proceed but I like that she’s up for the adventure of falling in love.

As for her director, it was interesting to find out that he made everyone think he treated her well. When in reality, he had always taken her to the cheapest restaurants, gave her loans to emotionally blackmail her, and put in non-competes to her contract (which are starting to become illegal alot of places in my country). The fact that he didn’t even wait 12 hours to officially try to soft get rid of her was disgusting. He could have tried to build up the Korean department by getting new teachers to do other schools or by building up other teams like English or Math to grow his business so it wouldn’t be as reliant on Hyejin. That’s his fault. As Hyejin said, she was willing to take less if it meant building something special together but once he broke her trust all bets are off. She owes him nothing.

The Grey Witch offered her another terrible deal as well. Even though she’s nearing retirement, I understand why she wouldn’t want another teacher stealing her students simply to keep her pride intact. While she was underhanded in making sure her students wouldn’t be able to attend the lecture, except for the spy she blackmailed into attending, she was trying to protect her domain. But the offer she made to Hyejin was pathetic at best. As Hyejin told Junho, it was the bare minimum of what she is worth. That whole ratio salary thing was such a cheap trick. Very shortsighted. It did not offer any real job security or power.  She was still going to rule her castle. If the Grey Witch truly wanted to retire gracefully and pick a successor, she should have offered to sell her academy to Hyejin for a tidy sum. 

While I understand that the economics of successful talent can be taxing for business owners, it’s literally the owners’ job to assess those risks and build their business around them accordingly. In general, even the best talent gets kicked to the curb at a moments notice so I don’t begrudge the talent for asking for the best terms for themselves. Also, more often than not, business owners (and corporate CEOs) take huge advantage of the majority of their average employees so I have zero sympathy for them. They are more than getting their money's worth. 

However, I do like watching the politics of these business owners versus talent play out.

[democratthatlovesguns]

Social Security

A government that is for the people, that puts people first, recognizes that people that spend three or more decades in the mines, the oil fields, the farms, people that spend their lives serving food, working retail, providing hospitality, providing public safety, serving in the military, and toiling away day in and day out to make ends meet ... A government that is about America First, would seek to LOWER the retirement age for people that have worked the hardest in life, not increase it.

People that work the hardest in American society deserve to retire sooner not later, to get some rest and enjoy the pleasures of an American life. They do not deserve to be worked even longer, most of them dying before retirement age or soon thereafter.

And this for what? Increase the retirement age or eliminate social security for what? So employers can keep more money in their pockets; money that definitely will not trickle down to their employees in any commensurate way. All this, so millionaire and billionaire Americans can pass on more wealth, tax free, to their retirement account beneficiaries upon death.

I'm going to be fine. Even if I pay 50% of my income into taxes, from now until I retire, I will be retiring very comfortably at age 62. Not only that, I also have the advantage of bi-annual full body checkups, something most working Americans cannot afford, to increase my chances of making it safely into retirement.

It's such a shame, you can't take the blindfold off these people because a necessary first step is for them to realize that they are walking around blindfolded.

[elisysd]

Beautiful People – Ed Sheeran

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Lamborghinis and their rented Hummers The party's on, so they're headin' downtown

Leaning over his piano, Charles is playing a sad tune. It’s not uncommon to him, he likes melancholic songs. But the one he’s playing is sadder than what he is used to. He just broke up with his girlfriend. Well, more like she broke up with him. For once he is not the one who breaks a heart and he has to admit that it’s not really something he enjoys.

Sure the relationship was far from perfect and he knew from the get-go that it would not go anywhere but still. He liked Marie’s presence. He met her during his winter break, when he had nothing else to do other than take care of him, following his dietician meal plan and exercising. He had plenty of time to see his family and friends. He met Marie through mutual friends and they clicked instantly. She was nice, funny, and down to earth. But he didn’t feel any sparks. He knew that he was not going to fall in love with her. He could have broken up with her then. He knows he should have. But then preparation for the season started and he didn’t have much time for her. The 2023 season began to go downhill quickly for Charles and all his focus was on his job and helping the team improve what they could. Calls and texts began to be rarer; she had her own life too. And in the end, it was her decision to break up. She told him that she thought she could handle his lifestyle but it was a mistake. She couldn’t. She needed someone to be by her side, not halfway across the globe most of the time. And he didn’t blame her. He knew that he was a lot to handle.

It was not a dramatic break up, it was amicable. They gave each other what they had to in the 4 months they stayed together.

What was painful to Charles was the fact that this relationship forced him to be confronted to what he was fearing the most when he started his racing career. Choosing between his passion and a family life. He started to think that he would not be able to have both. And it made him sad. He wanted the picture perfect family. A wife, three kids, a dog, and the nice white picket fence. And he wanted that sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to wait until he retired to have that.

So he was doing what he loved the most after racing to get his feelings off his chest. Playing piano. Completely lost in the music he didn’t pay attention to the time. The sun was setting and it was the perfect time to go to his daily running session. Grabbing a new and clean set of running clothes he headed for the front door while not forgetting to pick up his phone and airpods on his way out.

Running along the coastline was something he deeply enjoyed. The salty air from the sea coupled with the little breeze did him good. It was during moments like these, when he was on his own, running in the streets that he knew by heart, that reminded him why he loved Monaco so much. The landscapes, the people (real Monégasques not the filthy rich foreigners who were coming to the city to benefit from the tax system more than advantageous), the weather, it was home. He had the chance to travel so much, to visit so many places and learn so many different cultures but somehow nothing could ever beat Monaco to him. He wasn’t seeing himself live anywhere else.

Soon enough it was time for him to head back. He was sweaty and his muscles were aching. He was dreaming of a good shower. Passing the entry of the apartment complex he lived in; he hesitated between the stairs or the elevator. Not long though, like a sign from fate he heard the familiar “dong” of the elevator echoing, meaning that someone had already called it. Not wanting to wait for another minute to get home he rushed to the elevator.

He was quite surprised to not recognize the person waiting. Something Charles was proud of was that he knew all the residents of his building, so he quickly made up that she must be new. Now that he was thinking about it, the apartment above him had been for rent for a while. Before announcing himself, he took a little while to detail the woman before him. Short, her hair quickly pulled up into a messy bun from which a few strands escaped, she was carrying two huge shopping bags at arm's length that looked like they weighed twice her weight. From where he was, he could clearly hear the young woman's heavy breathing, a sign that she must have hurried home, or at least that she had made a physical effort that seemed to cost her.

Not wanting to be considered as a creep, he announced himself.

“Hey, hi. Are you new here? Never seen you before around here.”

She flinched, almost spilling the contents of her bags. With an annoyed sigh she turned to Charles.

“Well yeah. I haven’t been out very much” she confessed with a wince.

First thing Charles noticed is her accent. It’s slight, almost unnoticeable but it’s there. She is not from Monaco. Second thing, the fact that she doesn’t seem to go out a lot, takes him aback. He cannot comprehend how someone could not be out all day everyday while living in here. There is so much to do and visit. The elevator’s doors opened and both of them stepped inside. Charles pressed the third floor button while she pressed the fourth, confirming to him that she is indeed his new neighbor. Something he shares with her quickly.

“Oh, so it’s you that’s disturbing my sleep early in the morning!” she joked.

He didn’t have the time to reply that the doors opened to his floor. He is a little disappointed to leave now. He would have loved to talk to her a bit more and get to know her. It’s not everyday that he met new faces in his resident, much less a new neighbor. Before the door closed to separate them, he just had enough time to say to her:

“By the way, I’m Charles.”

She didn’t have the time to tell him her name.