#the automatic millionaire

[officialebookaudio]

Wealth-Building Strategies from 'The Automatic Millionaire' in English Book Summery || Ebook-audio

Discover a simple and proven plan for financial freedom with The Automatic Millionaire by David Bach. This summary explores smart money habits, automation strategies, and wealth-building techniques that anyone can apply.

💡 What You’ll Learn in This Video:

How to build wealth automatically with small, consistent steps. The power of paying yourself first and smart investing. Practical financial strategies to secure your future. Start your journey to financial independence today!

📚 Like, share, and subscribe for more insightful audiobook summaries and money management tips.

[my-financials]

Elevate Your Financial Wellness with These Transformative Books

Embark on a journey towards financial mastery with these insightful books that will revolutionize your approach to money management. Discover the psychology behind financial decisions, learn from the habits of self-made millionaires, and master proven strategies to achieve financial freedom. 1. The Psychology of Money: How to Make Better Sense of Financial Decisions Delve into the mind of…

[motliez]

Instagram: @Motliez

[atheadax]

Everyone ask “why is atheadac tremor” but no “how is atehadax tremor” 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

[theonottsbxtch]

MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81

an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request

wc: 2.5k

Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.

"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.

In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.

Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.

“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.

She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.

As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.

He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.

Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.

Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.

It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.

That number didn’t look right.

Surely it was missing a decimal.

Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.

Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"

She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"

Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…

"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.

She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."

He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."

"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."

He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.

"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.

"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."

Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.

He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.

She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.

He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”

She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”

He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”

She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”

She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”

“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”

She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”

“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”

She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.

“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.

He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”

“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.

“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”

“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.

“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”

He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”

She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”

Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.

“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”

“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”

She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”

She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”

Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.

He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”

He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”

“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”

She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”

He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.

He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”

“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”

She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”

“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”

Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.

the end.

[luckykiwiii101]

ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL

p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.

I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.

I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?

And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.

Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?

Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…

Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.

“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r

B-b-but didn’t you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didn’t you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you don’t sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were you…one of those…followers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why you’re so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected i’d be a millionaire.

“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r

Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the law…quite a “big” one too. I cant name any “big” bloggers who’ve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars now…

At this point, it’s PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because you’re SO mad that bloggers don’t do that for people. They can’t really because it depends on your assumption. I’m not even making an invalid point here. It’s just so obvious. “Want to prove to your followers.” “how about you manifest for them” 😭 I’m literally in tears because of how funny this is. I’m sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested “for you”, and you’ve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that there’s way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything you’d ever hoped for would be out the window.

In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.

But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.

‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r

From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly don’t believe what you’re telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.

And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. That’s just not how the human mind works. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.

Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.

Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.

Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.

P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasn’t consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a “big” blogger you say…The fucking audacity. But then again, it’s hard to believe in something you haven’t experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least don’t get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.

- gossip girl

[therealbabycher]

જ⁀➴. ummmm idrk what to put here lol ..♱

.𖥔˚ This pretty chick's life looks like ഒ

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

⋆.˚ Me going to bed every night knowing I have the cutest and sexiest god blessed appearance and my pretty pear-shaped body with my undoubtedly snatched waist is so gorgeous and curvaceous, my aura and personality has that pheromone effect on people and my sp so strong it makes them magnetised to me and hungry for my attention, and my entire being is a painfully beautiful rarity that hits others square in the gut like a bus✧₊∘

⋆.˚ Me scrolling through pinterest with my new pretty acrylics, knowing every pin I save to my boards is automatically mine they are already manifesting into the 3D, and there is no limit to what I can have. I have hundreds of pins of girly hairstyles, outfit ideas, clothes, accessories, and make-up saved, knowing they are already mine. Hundreds of pins of cute couple and friend group pics saved, knowing I already have them all. Too many money stack pins saved, knowing I am already a millionaire with 20 million pounds rn. And loads of 90s and 2000s luxury themed interior pins my nepo baby ass knows she's gonna be gifted through her dream house with those exact designs by my wealthy multimillionaire parents for her 20th.✧₊∘

⋆.˚ Me clocking out from another successful day of me girlblogging about my desires and stuff, me going out with my close friends and my sp to go on a shopping spree, me pampering myself with my favourite foods knowing I only gain or lose weight when I want to, me making a load of drawings, me listening to my subliminals and going to bed after reminding myself of the bad bitch I am✧₊∘

[fairyminnie444]

Inertia Method: How to Fix Your New Identity in the Subconscious ︵‿୨♱୧‿︵

In the context of the Law of Assumption, inertia means that the state you’re in tends to continue until you consciously change it.

Your current state—how you see yourself, what you believe to be true about your life—has been constructed through unconscious repetition and acceptance. If you don’t actively change your identity, your reality will continue to reflect what’s already ingrained in you.

Example of Inertia in Practice

𖤝 If you’ve always seen yourself as someone who struggles to make money, that identity continues automatically, effortlessly, because it’s already ingrained.

𖤝 If you consciously shift into the identity of someone who’s a millionaire and maintain that assumption, your new reality will take hold and maintain itself in the same way the old one did.

The key is to saturate your mind with the new identity until it becomes your new inertia. At that point, you don’t have to “try” anymore—reality will just naturally respond to your new state.

𓉸ྀི THE METHOD 𓉸ྀི

To saturate your mind and make your new identity become your natural inertia, you need to have ready answers for when doubts arise. The goal is that, instead of fighting against 3D, you condition your mind to only accept your new reality as an absolute fact. Here are some techniques you can apply in your daily life to stay grounded:

1. Corrected Self-Talk (Absolute Control of the Narrative) ༯

When a doubt or negative thought arises, you immediately correct it without hesitation. Don’t argue, don’t rationalize—replace it on the spot.

❌ Doubt: “What if this is all a delusion?”

✅ Response: “Nothing is more real than my certainty. 3D is just adjusting.”

❌ Doubt: “But what if it doesn’t happen?”

✅ Response: “It already happened. I only see what I already know to be mine.”

✘ This is automatic. There can be no room for questioning. ✘

2. “Closed Loop” Technique (There Is No Other Option) ༯

You act as if the other possibility doesn’t even exist. Your mind only has one story to repeat.

🥀 Example: If doubt arises, you respond internally:

𖤝 “I am (insert your desire here). That’s a fact.”

𖤝 “It’s always been this way. How could it be different?”

𖤝 “What I am, 3D reflects. I know who I am.”

✘ You create a mental loop where only this truth exists. ✘

3. Calculated Reaction to 3D (Total Control of Emotions) ༯

If something in 3D tries to challenge your assumption, you don’t react negatively. You treat anything as something irrelevant and temporary.

📌 Example: If your sp still doesn’t text you or acted like you want, instead of doubting, you think:

🖤 “Obviously it’s already worked. It doesn’t mean anything.”

🖤 “My success is already real. Time is irrelevant.”

🖤 “I’m on top. The rest is just adjustment.”

✘ The key is to treat anything that isn’t your assumption as insignificant and transitory. ✘

4. Saturation Through Repetition (Relentless Affirmations) ༯

You constantly reaffirm, as if you’re reminding yourself of something that’s always been true. This isn’t to manifest, it’s to reinforce your identity.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Examples of short, powerful affirmations:

𖤝 “I’m a millionaire and always have been.”

𖤝 “My beauty is surreal and everyone notices it.”

𖤝 “My life has always been perfect.”

𖤝 “I am desired, idolized, and untouchable.”

✘ Use this as a mental pattern throughout the day. ✘

5. “Mandela Effect” Technique (Erase Old Reality) ༯

If your mind tries to remind you of the past or a “problem,” you change the memory right away.

📌 Example: If you remember a difficult time in the past, you immediately correct yourself:

🖤 “It never happened like this. It was always easy.”

🖤 “I’ve always been a millionaire.”

🖤 “I am my SP’s absolute priority, I always have been.”

✘ You literally rewrite your story in your mind until it becomes automatic. ✘

6. Congruent Behavior (Act As If It’s Already True) ༯

You act and make decisions like the version of yourself that already has it all. This sends a clear signal to your mind that there is no other option.

🥀 If you’re already a millionaire: You don’t feel anxious about money. You just know you have it.

🥀 You already have your SP. You don't care if he/she is in thinking of you or not. You know they are.

🥀 If your life is perfect: You don't act like someone who's still trying.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Bottom line ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

✔ Always immediately correct any thoughts outside of the new identity.

✔ Never react negatively to 3D.

✔ Keep mentally repeating your assumption all day long.

✔ Erase any old memories or beliefs that don’t serve you.

✔ Act as if it is already real—because it is.

The more you practice this, the faster 3D bends to reflect your new inertia.

[robertreich]

Should Billionaires Exist? 

Do billionaires have a right to exist?

America has driven more than 650 species to extinction. And it should do the same to billionaires.

Why? Because there are only five ways to become one, and they’re all bad for free-market capitalism:

1. Exploit a Monopoly.

Jamie Dimon is worth $2 billion today… but not because he succeeded in the “free market.” In 2008, the government bailed out his bank JPMorgan and other giant Wall Street banks, keeping them off the endangered species list.

This government “insurance policy” scored these struggling Mom-and-Pop megabanks an estimated $34 billion a year.

But doesn’t entrepreneur Jeff Bezos deserve his billions for building Amazon?

No, because he also built a monopoly that’s been charged by the federal government and 17 states for inflating prices, overcharging sellers, and stifling competition like a predator in the wild.

With better anti-monopoly enforcement, Bezos would be worth closer to his fair-market value.

2. Exploit Inside Information

Steven A. Cohen, worth roughly $20 billion headed a hedge fund charged by the Justice Department with insider trading “on a scale without known precedent.” Another innovator!

Taming insider trading would level the investing field between the C Suite and Main Street.

3.  Buy Off Politicians

That’s a great way to become a billionaire! The Koch family and Koch Industries saved roughly $1 billion a year from the Trump tax cut they and allies spent $20 million lobbying for. What a return on investment!

If we had tougher lobbying laws, political corruption would go extinct.

4. Defraud Investors

Adam Neumann conned investors out of hundreds of millions for WeWork, an office-sharing startup. WeWork didn’t make a nickel of profit, but Neumann still funded his extravagant lifestyle, including a $60 million private jet. Not exactly “sharing.”

Elizabeth Holmes was convicted of fraud for her blood-testing company, Theranos. So was Sam Bankman-Fried of crypto-exchange FTX. Remember a supposed billionaire named Donald Trump? He was also found to have committed fraud.

Presumably, if we had tougher anti-fraud laws, more would be caught and there’d be fewer billionaires to preserve.

5. Get Money From Rich Relatives

About 60 percent of all wealth in America today is inherited.

That’s because loopholes in U.S. tax law —lobbied for by the wealthy — allow rich families to avoid taxes on assets they inherit. And the estate tax has been so defanged that fewer than 0.2 percent of estates have paid it in recent years.

Tax reform would disrupt the circle of life for the rich, stopping them from automatically becoming billionaires at their birth, or someone else’s death.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not arguing against big rewards for entrepreneurs and inventors. But do today’s entrepreneurs really need billions of dollars? Couldn’t they survive on a measly hundred million?

Because they’re now using those billions to erode American institutions. They spent fortunes bringing Supreme Court justices with them into the wild.They treated news organizations and social media platforms like prey, and they turned their relationships with politicians into patronage troughs.

This has created an America where fewer than ever can become millionaires (or even thousandaires) through hard work and actual innovation.

If capitalism were working properly, billionaires would have gone the way of the dodo.

[riekesart]

1920s Magical London Loki/Tony AU is finished! Read The Talent on AO3.

The Talent (46869 words) by Bottan Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Thor (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja & Loki (Marvel), Loki & Odin (Marvel), Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Characters: Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja (Marvel), Odin (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Laufey (Marvel) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Magical London, Science Bros, Alternate Universe - Human, Fantasy and Fictional Setting Racism, Period-Typical Racism, Action/Adventure, Magic User Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), Loki Gets a Hug (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Plot, Magic and Science, Monsters, Alternate Universe - Historical, POV Loki (Marvel), Mentioned Substance Abuse, whoops the rating changed, sorry folks

Summary: 1920. London’s magical society is dying. Plague sweeps the streets and monsters lurk in shadowed alleyways. Amid hunting monsters and trying to establish himself in his father’s eyes, Loki finds himself thoroughly distracted by American millionaire scientist Tony Stark. And when he realizes Stark might hold the key to end Britain’s suffering, Odin tasks him with securing the engineer’s help. ** “Alright, alright, you got me,” Stark sounded exasperated, incapable of bearing the silence. “I will do one business meeting – as in the number one, a singular meeting – in exchange for dinner. Look at me, do you want me on my knees, begging? I just really want to pick your brain.” “Wednesday,” Loki said automatically. “Eleven. Bor & Sons offices.” “Done,” Stark said with a grimace. “Dinner on Friday, and I get to pick the place!” Loki blinked at the mild chaos that Stark left in his wake and found that he hadn’t agreed to dinner, at all.

[chailovesu]

if you're reading a success story but automatically assume that it isnt possible and the op is lying, its time to examine your beliefs and change them. people have manifested incredible things, such as bringing people back to life, completely changing their biological parents, and manifesting money out of thin air and becoming millionaires with NO effort. manifestation itself isn't a logical concept, so there's no point in trying to apply logic to it because this will just lead to confusion and stagnation in your journey

[matt-murdockk]

hi hi hi writing request if you're up for it: can i get a neal caffrey x reader where they're undercover posing as a couple and things get too real too quick? fluffy angsty whatever, full creative liberty. thank you x -🌻

anon i would love to

This ain't the Chelsea hotel

pairing: neal caffrey x fem!reader words: 4.3k song: I'm writing this inspired by ttpd as you can tell, specifically the lyric "At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger And put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding" summary: an undercover mission brings up some unresolved feelings a/n: this is sorta inspired by johnny and dora from Brooklyn 99, and there's sort of an angst ending i am sorry but it will get better soon i promise

"Neal and (Y/n), you’re going in as a couple.”

Peter’s voice was calm, authoritative, as if he’d just assigned them to file paperwork instead of infiltrating a high-society gala crawling with millionaires, con artists, and, somewhere in the crowd, an international art thief.

(Y/n) froze, mid-sip of her coffee. “I'm sorry, what now?”

Neal, of course, leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place. “I mean, it makes sense. Look at us—irresistible charm, devastating good looks—who wouldn’t buy it?”

“You forgot insufferable ego,” she shot back, slamming her cup on the table. It was aggravating to be around Neal Caffrey, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love every second of it.

Peter held up a hand, cutting off the argument before it could spiral. “Enough. You’re the best fit for this assignment. The mark likes power couples, people who look like they’ve got secrets. Neal’s the smooth-talking art expert, and (Y/n)—you’ll play his fiancée, a curator from an old-money family.”

(Y/n) groaned, glaring at Peter. “You know this is going to go to his head.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter said dryly. “But you’ll manage. You always do.”

Neal turned to her, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you.”

"That's okay baby, I can handle you." No, she can't. This could end badly.

"Oooh, competition? you're gonna lose, you, know?"

"Hey, if I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me, Caffrey."

"Right, and one last thing. (Y/n), try not to fall in love with me."

"Won't be a problem."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And you're promising, that this is strictly work?"

"I swear, Moz! It's not like that," Neal replied, pacing the length of his apartment, the small box in his hand feeling heavier than it had any right to.

"It's hard to believe that when you're holding a real diamond ring in your hand," Mozzie argued, incredulous about Neal's intentions in this case.

"It's for authenticity"

"Right, because the suspect would definitely notice if she wore a cheap American zirconia."

"Mozzie. It's not like that."

"I believe you"

"I don't think you do."

Mozzie didn’t respond, simply giving Neal a pointed look before taking a long sip of his wine.

Neal let out a sigh, his grip on the box tightening. He was done trying to convince Mozzie, who always had a knack for cutting to the heart of things Neal would rather not think about. Because as much as he repeated the words it was just for the case, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

His gaze dropped to the ring, the glint of the diamond catching the light. It was just for authenticity. No ulterior motives.

Right?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Alright. The moment we enter that room we're on high alert. Peter and the team are in the surveillance van two blacks away to remain inconspicuous. He's usually after wealthy power couple types so we need to be really convincing. Got it?"

“Uh-huh. Yes,” Neal replied, nodding a little too quickly. His words were automatic, half-hearted at best, because his attention was decidedly elsewhere.

She looked stunning—more than stunning, really, though he would never admit it outright. The soft glint in her eyes caught the streetlights at just the right angle, making them sparkle for a fleeting moment before fading again. The dress she wore was elegant, understated, but perfectly fitted to the role they were about to play. Neal found himself momentarily mesmerized, the lines between the act and reality blurring just a bit more than they should have.

(Y/n) shot him a suspicious glance. “Neal. Focus.”

“Totally focused,” he said, his trademark grin sliding into place to cover the fact that he had absolutely not been paying attention to anything she’d just said.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but after a beat, she turned back toward the building looming ahead. “You’d better be. The second we step into that gala, we’re in character, and I’m not carrying this assignment on my own.”

“Of course not,” Neal quipped, following her lead, his voice taking on the smooth confidence he wore so well. “I’ll be the perfect fiancé. You’ll swoon. Just wait.”

She shook her head in surrender and walked towards the door before she felt a delicate hand pull at her wrist.

"Wait, I almost forgot," he said, taking out the velvet box that made his pocket weigh heavier than it should have.

"What?" she asked, completely oblivious.

"This," he said, flipping it open to reveal the princess-cut diamond ring inside. The sharp sparkle caught the light between them, but it was nothing compared to the flash of surprise in her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

He swallowed, his heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears as he took her left hand in his, the warmth of her skin making him falter for just a moment. His fingers brushed hers, gentle but deliberate, as he slid the ring onto her finger.

No break in eye contact.

Her gaze locked with his, questioning, searching, unsteady. The seconds stretched long, heavy with something unspoken, as his thumb brushed against the band, settling it into place.

Still no break.

The moment lingered, charged, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them under the streetlight. His breath hitched, his confidence—usually so bulletproof—wavering under the weight of how utterly real this felt.

Neal shifted, suddenly nervous, but he didn’t step back. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back up to meet hers again, the line between fiction and reality blurring with dizzying speed.

Finally, he broke the silence with a soft, almost uncertain laugh, a hint of tension bleeding into his words. “For authenticity, right?”

(Y/n) blinked, the spell broken. Her lips curved into a small smile, but her voice was quieter than usual when she replied. “Right. Authenticity.”

But neither of them moved for a moment longer, caught in the fallout of something they couldn’t quite name. If this was just pretend, why did it feel so real?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They entered the grand ballroom arm-in-arm, the weight of their roles pressing against them. Neal’s hand rested lightly at the small of (Y/n)’s back, his touch electric even through the layers of fabric.

“You’re tense,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her eyes and let it linger before remembering she had to respond.

“You try wearing a dress and pretending to be in love with you all evening,” she shot back, her voice sweetened by a practiced smile for the benefit of their audience.

Neal leaned closer, the humor in his tone giving way to something deeper. “You’d be surprised how easy that could be.”

"The dress or-"

"The last part. Obviously the last part."

"Just making sure," she responded, stifling a laugh. Remembering why they were here in the first place, she quickly scanned the room, she found their mark in the middle of the dance floor.

"Neal, 2'o clock, dance floor."

"Yeah, I see him. You ready?"

"Do, I have an option?"

Neal extended his hand, a devilish glint in his eyes as he slipped seamlessly into his role. “In that case, (Y/n), may I have this dance?”

(Y/n) smirked just for a moment, his outstretched hand a reminder of the precarious game they were playing. She placed her hand in his, his fingers warm and steady as they led her toward the dance floor. “Let’s get ourselves a criminal,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

The music swelled, slow and haunting, wrapping around them as Neal’s hand slid to her waist. His fingers pressed against the fabric of her dress, firm but careful, like he was afraid to break something fragile. His other hand cradled hers, his thumb brushing the back of her hand with maddening lightness.

“You’re holding on a little tight there, don’t you think?” she teased softly, her voice catching when his eyes locked on hers, warm and unflinching.

“Just making sure you don’t get away,” he replied, his words playful, but his tone laced with something heavier.

They moved in sync, the world around them dimming until it felt like the music existed just for them. Each step brought her closer, the space between them dissolving until her chest almost brushed against his. His breath was warm against her temple, and her head tilted slightly, just enough for her to catch the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“It’s just part of the job,” she whispered back, though her words wavered under the intensity of his gaze.

“Right,” he said, his hand slipping a fraction lower on her waist. “Just the job.”

Her pulse quickened as his fingers tightened slightly, drawing her closer still. Their faces were mere inches apart now, his eyes flicking to her lips for the briefest of moments before returning to hers. The tension between them was almost unbearable, charged and unspoken.

(Y/n) swore he was about to say something—something real, something that would tip this balance they always stalled on—but his gaze shifted over her shoulder.

“(Y/n),” he said abruptly, his tone cooling as his eyes fixed on something behind her.

(Y/n) blinked, the spell breaking as she followed his line of sight. Their mark stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching them with quiet intensity.

“He’s noticed us,” Neal said, his hand loosening its hold on her waist.

“Good,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “That’s the idea.”

And just like that, they were back in the game, palpable tension vanishing into thin air.

As the song came to an end, the mark stepped toward them with his date, a woman dripping in diamonds and disdain.

“Charming performance,” the mark said smoothly, offering a practiced smile. “You two must be new faces around here.”

“Guilty as charged,” Neal said with a grin, slipping effortlessly into his persona. “We’ve just been admiring the company.”

“Why don’t you join us on the rooftop?” the mark offered, gesturing toward the glass doors that led to a private terrace. “It’s quieter. Easier to talk.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a quick glance before following. On the way, Neal caught her glancing at her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over the diamond ring he had slipped on earlier.

“Admiring your fiancé’s taste, sweetheart?” he teased under his breath, his voice tinged with both humor and something sharper.

(Y/n) jerked her gaze away, her cheeks warming. “Just making sure it looks convincing,” she muttered, but the way her hand lingered over the ring betrayed her words.

Neal leaned closer, his smirk softening. “It looks perfect. You look perfect.”

The heat in her cheeks deepened, but before she could respond, the doors opened, and the crisp night air swept over them. They stepped onto the terrace, the stakes of their mission suddenly more palpable than ever.

The mark led them to a table on the edge of the terrace, a private spot where the city lights shimmered below. He took a seat, his date following suit, and Neal and (Y/n) joined them. The air was cool, and the tension in the space was almost tangible. The mark’s eyes flicked between them, his gaze assessing, calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth, “tell me, how did you two meet? I’m always curious about these stories."

Neal leaned back in his chair, putting on his best charming smile. “It was one of those chance encounters, really,” he began. “I was at an auction, looking at some early Renaissance pieces when she walked in—just like that.” He snapped his fingers, his eyes glinting. “She had this aura about her—class, confidence, and this fire in her eyes that made me want to get to know her. I knew the moment I saw her, I’d never let her slip through my fingers.

Y/n) raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by how smooth he was. “Not exactly how I remember it,” she replied, her tone light but sharp. “He was chasing after a piece of art that had already been sold. I caught him, and after some back-and-forth, we ended up negotiating a deal. And well, the rest, as they say, is history.”

The mark chuckled, intrigued. “So, love at first sight then?”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, both knowing that this was the moment they had to sell it. Neal leaned forward, his voice dropping a notch as he spoke to the mark.

“There’s something about her. Something that keeps me coming back, you know?” he said, his eyes never leaving (Y/n)'s face. “She’s strong, sharp—doesn’t take crap from anyone. And that’s something you don’t find every day.”

(Y/n) turned toward him, her heart beating a little faster at the raw honesty in his words. She wasn’t sure if it was part of the act or something real underneath it, but the heat between them flickered for a second.

“And what do you see in him?” the mark asked, his tone now laced with genuine curiosity.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer without giving away too much of her own feelings, but when she looked into Neal’s eyes, something clicked. They were here together, playing a part in a dangerous game, but the way he was looking at her made her forget that for a second. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the vulnerability he was letting slip, just for her.

“I see someone who challenges me,” she replied, her voice softer than usual. “Someone who pushes me to be better. And, you know, someone who’s got this charm that… well, it works on me. I’m not proud of it.”

Neal’s grin spread, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “Works on me too,” he said, his voice lower now, as if the words were meant for her alone. “We balance each other out. When I'm with her, I feel complete, you know?”

The mark seemed satisfied with their answers, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You two really are a convincing pair. Almost makes me believe in the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing," he laughed. His date, lost in her phone, barely seemed to notice, leaving the moment to hang between them.

Neal glanced at (Y/n), an almost imperceptible shift in his expression as he studied her. There was something different in the way she held herself tonight. She was usually the composed one, but now… he couldn’t quite read the look in her eyes.

“So, what happens next?” the mark asked, his voice smooth, as he leaned back in his chair.

Neal tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “Now? Now we enjoy the view.” He gestured out toward the city lights that sparkled beneath them, a million possibilities flashing in the distance. “What’s a good evening without a little bit of beauty to go with it?”

(Y/n) nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her wine glass absently. “And a little danger, I’d say,” she added, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

The mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Danger, huh? What’s dangerous about a couple like you two?”

Neal chuckled, but it was a touch colder this time, more calculated. He turned his eyes on (Y/n), watching the way she tilted her head, as if she was on the edge of saying something important. Then, with a glance that felt almost too intimate, he spoke again. “We’ve got a history, you know? We don’t talk about it much, but we both know... some things you don’t just walk away from.”

(Y/n) blinked, her breath catching at his words. She hadn’t expected him to go that far with the act. The sincerity behind it—whether it was all for the mission or something more—hit her unexpectedly. But she kept her face neutral, answering with equal weight. “Yeah. Some things... they follow you.”

The air between them thickened, the words hanging heavy in the space. The mark watched them, an unreadable expression on his face as he exchanged glances with his date. It wasn’t quite suspicion, but something deeper. Curiosity, maybe. Or recognition. But before anything could be said, the mark stood, taking a step toward the edge of the terrace.

“You two are something else,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to grab another drink. You stay here.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, one that said everything without needing words. As soon as the mark and his date were distracted by the bar, they slipped away. It wasn’t much—just enough of a gap for them to make their move. They walked quickly, low and quiet, blending into the flow of people.

They passed a row of velvet curtains and slipped behind them, into a hallway that led to the back stairwell. The sound of voices echoed from the main room, but it was the sound of a briefcase being handed over that caught Neal’s attention.

There he was—the mark, shaking hands with someone in a dark suit. The transaction was swift, almost too clean. Neal’s eyes narrowed.

“Something’s off,” he whispered to (Y/n), barely audible.

But before they could pull back into the shadows, a shift in the mark’s posture had him looking their way. Neal froze, his gaze locking with the mark’s. There was a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes, followed by a narrowing of his gaze.

In that moment, they both knew they had been spotted.

Neal didn’t hesitate. He grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist, pulling her in close. “Trust me on this,” he muttered, his breath warm against her ear.

Before she could even respond, his lips found hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was urgent—desperate, even, and as their bodies pressed closer, the danger of being caught only made it more intense. Their kiss was a cover, an act. But damn, it felt real. The mark was approaching them now, too close for comfort, but Neal barely registered the thought. He pushed her against the nearest wall and "got carried away" as he traveled towards her neck. Her hands found his hair, gently playing with them, for the act, of course.

(Y/n)’s heart raced as the world around them seemed to blur. They were acting, but in that moment, there was a sense of something more—something raw beneath the surface. He left her neck and locked her yes in a gaze, before returning back to her lips. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and when Neal pulled away, her lips felt like they were still burning from the kiss.

The mark was now standing just a few feet away, his brow furrowed in confusion but not yet suspicious enough to call them out. Neal, ever the charmer, quickly recovered, a half-smile spreading across his face.

“Sorry,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Got carried away. But you know how it is, right?” He gestured to (Y/n), his hand slipping possessively around her waist as he spoke directly to the mark, hoping his calm demeanor would sell the story.

The mark studied them for a beat, a silent assessment passing between them. Finally, he shook his head, smirking. “You two really are something else, huh.”

Neal’s grin stretched wider, eyes flicking to (Y/n) for just a moment, as if to say: We’re good.

They turned, following the mark back into the chaos of the night, but the weight of what just happened settled between them—unspoken, but palpable.

The sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the terrace as the FBI moved in, swarming around them with practiced efficiency. Neal felt the brief rush of adrenaline still pumping in his veins, but now it was mixed with something else. He and (Y/n) had done their job, the mark had fallen into their trap, and the briefcase—the one they’d been waiting for—was in his hands, a key piece of evidence that sealed the deal.

But then, there was that kiss.

It had been... unexpected. Real. No longer just an act.

The team moved quickly, surrounding the mark, taking him into custody. Peter gave Neal a brief, knowing nod before he led the mark away. He didn’t say anything; the job was done. The mission was complete. But Neal’s mind wasn’t on the bust. He was focused on (Y/n), the way her breath had caught when their lips met, the look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

Once the area had cleared and the sound of distant voices faded, he turned to her. (Y/n) was leaning against the railing, her arms crossed tightly as she stared out over the city, the glow of the streetlights flickering in the distance. There was a cold distance in her posture that wasn’t there before, a wall he hadn’t seen her put up.

Neal swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “(Y/n)...”

She didn’t look at him right away. When she did, her gaze was unreadable. “We did our job, Neal. That’s what matters.”

There was a tightness in her voice, the way she was shutting down again, retreating behind the walls she always kept so perfectly in place. It made his chest tighten.

“I know,” Neal replied, his voice softer. “But that kiss…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He was a conman, a man who lived in deception. But that kiss—that had felt different.

(Y/n) sighed, pushing herself off the railing and turning to face him fully. “It’s part of the job, Neal. You know that. It’s always part of the job.”

Her words were clipped, but her eyes betrayed her. They were too wide, too vulnerable, like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing him. Neal didn’t buy it. Not this time.

“Is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Because that didn’t feel like part of the job to me. It felt like—” He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “Like something real.”

Her expression flickered, just for a moment, like she was considering telling him something—something more than what she was letting on. But she quickly masked it, her gaze hardening again.

“It wasn’t real, Neal,” she said, her voice sharp, like the edge of a blade. “It was a job. You know that.”

Neal’s breath hitched. “But what if it was? What if it wasn’t just the mission? What if we’re both—” He cut himself off, staring at her, his chest suddenly tight with a feeling he couldn’t quite shake. “Look, I don’t want to make this more complicated than it has to be. But I can’t just act like that kiss was nothing. I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something.”

(Y/n) took a step back, her jaw clenched, clearly struggling with something she wasn’t ready to face. “You’re just confused, Neal,” she said, her words laced with frustration. “We’re good at what we do. We can sell this. We can sell anything. But that kiss? It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

Neal shook his head, his frustration matching hers. “Why do I feel like you’re trying so hard to convince me of that?”

She stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his. There was no hiding now. “Because I don’t need you to start thinking that this is something more than it is,” she said, her voice shaking just a little. “I don’t need to feel like I’m... I’m letting you in. I don’t want that. We can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Neal asked, his voice quieter now, softer. “Why can’t we have that?”

For a moment, (Y/n) didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, as if trying to find the words to explain something she couldn’t. She wanted to—he could see it in her eyes—but something held her back, something she was afraid to admit.

“Because I can’t,” she finally said, her voice trembling with something raw, something real. “Because I can’t let you in, Neal. I can’t let myself... care. I’ve spent too long keeping everything at arm's length. It’s easier that way. It’s safer that way.”

Neal felt his heart twist. He had no answers, no solutions. He couldn’t fix this. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

But as the silence stretched between them, he couldn’t just let it go. “So, what happens now?” he asked quietly. “Do we just go back to being... partners? Nothing more, nothing less?”

(Y/n) looked away, biting her lip as she thought it over. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I don’t know if we can just go back to what we were before. But we have to try.”

Neal didn’t argue. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake. Too much left unsaid.

“I don’t think either of us can walk away from this without something changing,” he said, the words coming out as more of a confession than a statement.

Her eyes flickered to his again, softer now. “Maybe that’s true,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t mean we can act on it.”

Neal took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, (Y/n). But I don’t think I can just pretend it’s nothing anymore.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes one last time. “Neither can I,” she said quietly, as she took off her ring and placed it in his hand.

And then, before either of them could say more, Peter’s voice echoed from behind them, sharp and thunder-like.

“Jesus Christ, what happened in this mission?” Peter inquired, leaning against the doorframe, clearly amused.

Neal shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. Peter was just being Peter. But as the moment lingered, both Neal and (Y/n) knew the truth. They had crossed a line. They’d let the job get too close. And now, whatever happened next… they couldn’t go back to pretending it was just a mission anymore.

a/n: I hope you liked it, this was my first request so I got carried away T_T, I'll make a part 2 for closure if this does well <3

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 4

(in which he has never been grocery shopping before)

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 2.5k

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Note: for all my slice of life girlies!!! Here’s a lil treat 🫶 I’ve been having brain rot for sweet nothing the last couple of days so enjoy!!

When Jungkook had said he would take you anywhere, he meant it. Whether it was a two hour roadtrip or a two week trip to Morocco, he’d do anything and take you anywhere to make up for his absence the last week.

You had thought long and hard on it and when the time came to decide on your first weekly outing, Jungkook was truly prepared to take extra time off, just for you.

What he hadn’t expected was this.

“Y/n, remember when I said we could go anywhere?” Jungkook asked, trying to keep his sniffle quiet as he fixed his face mask and then adjusted the black ball cap he wore.

“Hm? Yeah?” You replied, beaming as you held your swollen tummy in excitement.

“I meant anywhere in the world. Not the grocery store.”

You glanced up at him, a shy smile on your face, “I know, but I’ve been wanting to cook for myself the last few days but you don’t have anything in the second kitchen. And staff won’t let me in the first.”

Jungkook frowned though you couldn’t see it, “Is the cooking not to your standard?”

“Oh no! The cooking is fine,” You smiled somewhat nervously, already noticing the look in his eyes which said he was close to whipping his phone out and firing people on the spot, “I just miss cooking for myself. Gourmet food is amazing, but nothing beats home cooking! I thought we could browse around and get some ingredients for a few dishes.”

Jungkook shrugged, “It’s your outing choice not mine. Let’s go.”

He opened the door to the small local grocery store, the bells jingling as he let you walk in first, the ladies at the registers greeting you both as you grabbed a grocery basket.

You browsed through the isles, admittedly curious to see what goods they sold, you had never come in before but had found it online after doing some looking because if Jungkook was coming with you, it would be best to try and be discreet, he was a CEO after all.

Granted he didn’t look discreet himself, even in casual clothes he was still in all black, black jeans, black leather jacket, black cap, black mask.

Oh and the gold Rolex on his wrist.

You briefly glanced at the shiny metal before looking back at the produce. Jungkook was practically glued to your back, leering over you with each product you picked up, looking as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“That’s ridiculously cheap.” He commented as you set the salad dressing back on the shelf.

You twisted around in surprise, “That’s eight dollars! That’s not cheap at all.”

Jungkook cocked his head to the side as if trying to figure out whether you were serious or not. This made you sigh as you felt a small kick in your stomach hand automatically grabbing the spot as you corrected yourself, “It’s not cheap for anyone who isn’t a millionaire.”

“Multi-millionaire.” Jungkook corrected as he reached back over, tossing it into the basket.

“Jungkook-”

“Not a word.” He replied, looking down at you chastising, “In fact.”

“Jungkook!”

“Give me that,” Jungkook grabbed the grocery basket from you, it was empty aside from the salad dressing that rolled about in it, “You’re pregnant you shouldn’t be carrying it anyways.”

“I can still carry things!” You replied indignantly, crossing your arms above your stomach.

“Yeah but should you?” Jungkook replied but cut you off before you could even try to reply, “Yeah I didn’t think so, moving on.” He pressed his hand into your back, giving you a gentle push to move forward.

Briefly in the peripheral of your eyes you could see an elderly couple giggle at your squabbling. You could feel the tips of your ears begin to burn as you without putting up a further fight, continued on, you didn’t want to make people think you and Jungkook were…

Your thought wasn’t continued at the sight ahead, instead a delight noise escaped you as you clasped your hands together, “Ah! Look at these, aren’t they just darling!” You sped over to the small clothing section but what had caught your eye was of course the baby clothes.

There was various sizing but newborn was what your eyes honed in on, little bright colored onesies, the smallest coats with little bear ears! And the socks! They were so tiny.

Just all of the clothing had you grabbing your bump in excitement as you dug through them.

Jungkook only sighed as he leaned against the metal rack, basket still in hand as he asked, “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” You confessed with a shy smile, “I want it to be a surprise. I’d be happy with either. I don’t have much for the baby to be honest with you…” Your smile faltered a little, “I have a few sets of onesies that I’ve gathered throughout my pregnancy but I’ve been trying to keep them in gender neutral colors.”

You tried to not linger on the words that accidentally slipped out of you about not having much for the baby, but it was the truth. You absolutely hated going to baby showers before, always feeling awkward and a bit bored most of the time, and not really understanding the purpose of it.

Now being pregnant yourself you realized it was about chipping in and helping the new mom out on expenses, just about everything was insanely expensive.

Especially when the baby would be grown out of many of these garments in just a few months.

So the simple fix was, just have a baby shower.

The problem was, embarrassingly enough, you didn’t have any close family left aside from your brother, could you even count him anymore? The few people you knew were your coworkers, they were kind people, going out of their way to give you an informal baby shower which included a small set of gifts when you came in to open one day and a small set of cupcakes for everyone.

It was such a kind gesture it had brought you to tears, but it still didn’t fill that void inside you that in the end, you truly didn’t have anyone to come back to at home.

“What do you have for the baby?” Jungkook asked casually, looking as if his cuticles were more interesting than the conversation at hand.

You knew better than to believe his nonchalant attitude though, “Enough.”

“But how much,” Jungkook repeated, shifting his eyes from his hand to you revealing that he was very much invested in this conversation, no matter how cool he was trying to play it, “You’re staying with me until this whole ordeal with your brother is solved, remember? Which could be months.”

You sighed in irritation, grabbing hold of your stomach as you shifted your weight, “I’d hope not months, if it can be helped.”

This made Jungkook sigh in exasperation as well, “Of course, but again, it’s better to be prepared then not. I could buy this entire store in a second if I wanted, you think infant clothes are gonna break my bank?”

“That’s not the point Jungkook!” You frowned, not happy at all with how this conversation was going, “I’m sure you’ll find Wonho soon enough, can we please go check out my back is starting to hurt.”

You weren’t lying by any means, anytime you stood for more than a few hours at a time your back would start to dully ache these days.

Jungkook tucked his tongue against his cheek, looking as if he definitely had more to say but relented as he gestured you to forward first, huffing you kept your hands on your bump as you walked past him.

After checking out Jungkook was determined to carry your grocery bags for you all the way to his car, a custom made Viper with LED’s on the inside, it felt a bit ridiculous to ride in honestly, but seeing his satisfied tap of his fingers against the wheel told you that as long as he was happy, so were you.

The last stop of your short trip was the one you were looking forward to.

“This is a horrible idea.” Jungkook commented, his voice sounding a bit raspier as you turned to him in suspicion, “What…?”

“Are you okay?” You asked, turning your head to the side in question.

“I’m fine.” Jungkook waved a hand, his voice still a bit scratchy though, nothing a good cup of tea couldn’t fix though, and luckily Serendipity Bakery could help with that. Otherwise known as your old work place!

Walking in you made eye contact with the cashier you blinked as if trying to figure out whether you were a ghost or not, “Y/n!?”

“Eunwoo!” You cheered with a bright grin, he was the owner’s son of the shop but he had been training in every position while learning the trade of the business in hopes of one day taking over the shop for his father.

He rounded the counter sweeping you into a hug, careful of your stomach though before he held your shoulders tenderly, “I was so concerned when you sent in that text about going on maternity leave early! I’ve been trying to contact you since, you’ve had me worried to death! Is the baby okay?”

You were so surprised by the amount of questions that it took you a moment to process before you glanced down at his hands, sliding from your shoulders to your stomach.

“I’m okay…” You admitted, a bit shy at his attention, Eunwoo was…you weren’t sure what you two were to one another, other than perhaps a missed opportunity had you not been pregnant, in your first trimester when you had started working here, “Just been busy.”

“But the baby…”

“Is fine.”

The deep voice of Jungkook cut into the conversation making you remember he was indeed still here, he looked like a black rain cloud, suddenly looming right behind you and his eyes had twisted into a death glare, except it wasn’t aimed on you, moreso on Eunwoo’s hands, which were still on your stomach.

“Oh…?” Eunwoo’s hands reluctantly dropped as he frowned, “And you are…?”

“Jungkook,” He replied with a clipped tone, “her caretaker.”

“He mean’s roommate.” You curved a brow at him, caretaker? Seriously? “I moved into a new home! Jungkook is my roommate, he’s been helping me settle in and get ready for the baby. Right…?”

Jungkook said nothing, despite wearing a black face mask it wasn’t difficult to tell his expression beneath was unfriendly, you had seen many sides of Jungkook but this one wasn’t one you were most familiar with, he had flashed expressions like this at men who would attempt to talk to you at the Red Light before you had gotten pregnant.

But this was Eunwoo, not just some guy.

“I see…” Eunwoo frowned, glancing at Jungkook, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook, I’m Eunwoo, Y/n’s co-worker and friend, I hope you’ve been taking good care of her, she deserves only the best.”

“Eunwoo...” You felt a bit flustered at the sudden tension between both men, uncertain of how to translate this, you never had any intimate relationship with either of them aside from a certain unspoken attraction that you had at some point just assumed was you being stupid and it was only one sided.

At least in terms of Jungkook…You tried not to think about those days anymore, after all you never truly knew Jungkook back then, other then you were girlishly flattered at the attention he would sometimes give you.

You were too embarrassed to even think about it these days, the amount of times you’d stay up late into the night imagining a glimpse of a life that would never happen with him.

Eunwoo however...was a very different story, he had a boyish charm about him, the boy next door type of feeling, he had always been sweet to you, even after knowing you were pregnant he looked at you no different, and he was the reason you even had a small baby shower to begin with.

You could’ve had something with him, but the only person stopping you was yourself.

Partly because you didn’t want him involved in all of this, but there was also something else you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“Luckily for her I only provide the best,” Jungkook replied, a little haughty, as if he was ruffled at the insinuation at not being able to take care of you, his glare didn’t let up, “You gonna take our order or what?”

You could tell Eunwoo didn’t appreciate his tone, but he forced a smile as he replied, “Anything for you Y/n, what’s on the craving menu today?” He rounded the counter as he rested his elbows on the surface.

You gave a soft smile, trying to ignore Jungkook practically towering over your shoulder, now acting as if he was a force field making sure you stayed a good distance from Eunwoo, “Honestly a London Fog and a blueberry scone sounds amazing! What about you Jungkook?”

“Coffee, black.” Jungkook replied deadpan.

“Alright,” Eunwoo nodded, “It’s on the house.”

“What? No, no we can pay!” You frowned as Eunwoo chuckled, a pretty smile on his lips as he shook his head, making his freshly dyed blonde hair brush over his eyebrows.

“Nope, too late, order’s been voided, i’ll be back with your stuff in a moment.” Eunwoo winked at you as he disappeared into the back.

“He’s your coworker?”

You twisted around, your frown turning into a pout, “Not for long with the way you were glaring.”

“I wasn’t glaring.” Jungkook replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Before you could pursue the conversation Eunwoo returned with your drinks and food, both in to go cups and a small pastry bag, “Here you are.”

“Thank you Eunwoo!” You grinned as you reached for your drink.

But before you could grab it Eunwoo softly grabbed your hand, “Anything for you Y/n, seriously, text me, I know you’re on maternity leave but if you want to hang out let me know! We can go out sometime.”

“Let’s go.” Jungkook’s voice was a tad deeper than normal, his eyes back into a glare as he reached over your hand grabbing both drinks, somehow managing to hold both in one hand before pressing another against your back firmly to turn you around.

It happened so fast you could hardly process it as you waved goodbye to Eunwoo.

“What was that about?” You asked bewildered by his action as you exited the shop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jungkook replied, his eyes staying forward as you huffed, curving a brow as took your drink from his hand, taking a sip of it as you decided to not pursue this conversation though it was very tempting.

Being so focused on how childish he was acting you didn’t even notice how his hand still stayed against your back all the way until you returned to the car, Jungkook making the point to even open the door for you as you sat back down with a groan, your back aching once more with the need to rest.

“Anywhere else you wanna go?” Jungkook asked as he slid into the drivers side.

You shook your head, “Nah, I just wanna go home.”

You couldn’t see it beneath his mask, but the tiniest smile tugged on Jungkook’s lips at your words, “Then home it is.”

[matrix-fairy]

💰 5-14-19 – Millionaire Program 💰

The name itself draws a lot of attention, with people often wondering, "Where is my money?" But this program isn’t just about amassing great wealth. While the 19th energy is often regarded as the most monetary, having this program doesn’t automatically make you a millionaire—especially if the energy is blocked or "in the red."

Here’s what this energy reveals:

Creative Abundance: This program often manifests as an abundance of ideas and creativity for its owner, leading to numerous innovative implementations.

Women's Matrix Influence: When this program is present in a woman’s matrix, it frequently serves as a motivator for a man in her life to achieve wealth and success.

Wealth and Success: The energy indicates potential for reaching great heights in business or acquiring wealth through family connections. It signifies opportunities for significant prosperity—not just financially but also in other areas of life, such as relationships and family. Success may manifest in stages: for instance, a period of romantic success might be followed by financial abundance.

Family and Legacy: Families connected to this program might experience blessings in the form of smart, beautiful children or significant wealth passed down through generations. The potential for inheritance or financial success increases when the family is large.

Partner Selection: Owners of this energy should carefully choose their partners. Their energy has a unique ability to transfer financial luck and prosperity to their close relationships. If the relationship is built on genuine love, happiness, and relaxation, the partner may experience extraordinary power and financial success.

Parent-Child Channel: When this energy is present in the parent-child dynamic, it suggests financial success tied to the family’s growth. A large family can lead to a home filled with abundance. Moreover, it often signals a significant fortune emerging within one generation of the family.

In summary, the 5-14-19 program is not solely about monetary wealth but rather about the broader abundance of life—spanning creativity, relationships, family, and legacy. With the right energy alignment and choices, it can unlock extraordinary prosperity in all forms.

[urangelsiren]

The Benefits of Pretty Priviledge

While many try to convince us that things such as pretty privilege aren't real and don't have any actual benefits, in the society we live in today that is far from the truth. As someone who is considered conventionally "unattractive" to society, I have seen time and time again the ways pretty privilege has benefitted any and everyone that may or may not be conscious of having it. Here are a few things that I've noticed it consist of:

People will automatically treat you way better than if your ugly. It's sad but it's the truth and unfourtanetly people will just be nicer to things that are overall visually more pleasing.

You're valued way more when you're pretty. Is it considered a bit superficial and vain...well yes. After all some of those tik toks aren't lying when they say "the downside of being pretty is that you're always lusted over, never loved" and they aren't entirely wrong. When you're pretty you're automatically seen as some form of sex symbol in some way.

Doors will open much easier for you than if you're ugly. Now yes im aware hardwork is important too but think of a company that's trying to market itself as the most high end company there is. Do you really think they're gonna put just anybody on the advertisements? 9/10 that woman with the long hair and clear skin with a fit body and manicured nails is definitely getting hired before you and that's even if they have any skills. (But if you're pretty with a BRAIN that's a bonus but probably the most dangerous combo ever..I'll make a post on this later)

You will in fact be the center of attention. Your name will be said in places before you even walk in the door. This is because when you're pretty, many and I do mean many will most definitely make assumptions about you. Now whether they're good or bad doesn't matter because at the end of the day, not many would actually say it to your face to begin with (the bad stuff anyway) and second you will realize how insecure a lot of people are when it comes to you through their projection simply because they've already made an assumption about you before even getting to know you. But it's your own beauty that influences that.

People will automatically assume you're confident. You know the saying fake it til you make it? Yea..I've met some very pretty people in my life and just like any other human being they have insecurities of their own you wouldn't even imagine they'd be insecure about. However no one could think something like that because well..you're pretty.

While I don't wanna make this male centered...yall know them movie scenes where a pretty girl bats her little eyelashes and suddenly guys are running to pay for her stuff, be used as a rug for a wet puddle, etc. Some of those aren't exaggeration at all. You would be surprised what someone will do for a pretty girl. I literally saw a tik tok of a girl who got out of being with the cops deadass because she had pretty feet...like literally the cop was slipping over his words and blushing like?? Yea so when you look good be prepared cuz the better you look the further lengths people will go for u.

You will attract people in higher positions. Now this is the part where if you're pretty, boundaries and standards are highly important because if you're pretty you will definitely attract anyone and that includes some people who will put on a facade but are actually terrible asf and dusty. However, when u play cards right you will definitely attract someone like a CEO or millionaire or you'll just attract really good connections and may have better chances at networking.

You have a better chance of being protected vs if you're ugly. Put the guns down but that is a very harsh truth, some people will in fact choose that pretty girl over you in a life or death situation. When you're pretty people can tend to get a little stupid and coo coo for coco puffs. They're not thinking about the situation in itself but more so being known as the person who saved the pretty girl (it sounds far fetched but it really is true).

[saber-monet]

the feeling of the wish-fulfilled sometimes feels a little messy and imperfect

the feeling of your wish being fulfilled might feel imperfect.

You might be a millionaire or have straight A's but its not gonna feel like an ultimate resolution that turns your life into this perfect utopia where nothing unpleasant or miscalculated never happens.

sure you'll be a millionaire, but you might still stub your toe or wake up with morning breath.

sure you'll have straight A's, but you might have bad outfit days or feel lazy about doing your workout routine

or you'll have your SP(s) but you might hear a song you dislike on a radio or get stuck in traffic

or you to have your dream job, but might stutter when you're giving a presentation or send emails that have typos sometimes

like do you get what im trying to say ? You'll have your desire, but having your desire doesn't mean that you automatically become perfect or that your life is this neat and pristine thing where nothing ever goes awry.

but you'll still have moments of intentional appreciation for your desire, kind of like how you have moments of appreciation for having Wi-Fi or living in a house with central heating and running water, or having access to safe delicious food, or friends that understand you and support you, or your favorite artist. You still have moments of "wow I'm glad this exists and I get to experience it right now"