#especially considering that it’s not like they share bank accounts

[ladysophiebeckett]

marcela demanding and having access to his bank statements is insane. it just gets glossed over and never brought up again. this is not normal behavior.

[lunarw0rks]

I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??

♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader

─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹

there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.

you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.

and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.

you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.

everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.

he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.

no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.

what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.

the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.

you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.

you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.

though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.

"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.

as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.

a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.

it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.

he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"

"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.

with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.

it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."

somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.

the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.

"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.

once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.

soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.

despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.

as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.

a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.

"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.

he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.

your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.

"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.

then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"

[ecoamerica]

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[erodasfishtacos]

Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time 

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

+

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

++

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

-

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

**

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

++

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

++

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

++

[psychoticallytrans]

This post is specifically meant to help kids and emerging adults that were not taught what you might not want to share online.

The purpose of not sharing personal information is to make it more difficult to connect up information about you, and especially to make it difficult to connect the "you" online to the "you" offline. The reasons one may want to do this range from maintaining safe relationships outside of an abusive relationship, to making it harder to put together enough information to break into their bank account, to being actively concerned about doxxing and swatting.

For any of these reasons, if you're not completely sure you will be fine having that information on the internet indefinitely, it's best not to share it in the first place. The internet is full of turmoil, but we all know that some posts never die, and that others are archived.

Here's some information that is generally considered a bad idea to share publicly or privately online, with the exception of applying for jobs or working with online financial and legal systems, and some strong alternatives.

Your full legal name, or any particularly distinctive part of your legal name. My first name has less than six hundred people with it in the States. I use a nickname on this blog for a reason. Nicknames are a great alternative to legal names.

Your birthday, especially if you also share your exact age. That allows for people to look for you based on your exact birth date, which is a very powerful piece of information. Unlike your legal name, there's no way I know of to change it. Consider not sharing this at all. For age, "minor" or "adult" are all the information a reasonable person should need.

Your precise location. Big cities, like Tokyo, New York City, or London, have a high enough population to act as a bit of a smokescreen, but as a rule of thumb, stick to stating a local with at least a million people in it. I often just use my time zone, since it's the main thing people need to know online.

There's other information that is questionable to share openly online, particularly your personal phone number and email, but those are the three big pieces of information that it's generally not a good idea to share either publicly or privately. This is because they can be plugged into background checkers and other databases to try to find you offline. The more information you share, the more someone can narrow down who you are. If that is something you are concerned about, consider following these guidelines about what not to share.

I encourage people to add onto and spread around this post.

[seafoamreadings]

week of december 10th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: you're in for a week that's a bit chaotic, but mostly in a good way. i've often said that although aries is represented by a ram it's got more of a baby goat energy, which definitely involves a lot of chaos. it's you, so go forth and thrive in it!

taurus: this is a great time for philosophical pursuits. the big key will be remaining receptive. if you're not open to receiving new knowledge, you'll doom yourself to remain in ignorance, which is not auspicious these days. so whatever piques your intellectual interest, approach it with an open beginner's mind.

gemini: upheaval in your closest relationships is on the menu this week, especially ones in which you share resources, split rent, or get tax benefits. upheaval isn't always bad but it isn't always fun either.

cancerians: the new moon in sagittarius is a good time to set intentions around health and wellness, routines and rituals, and your daily life and work. so if you're the type who sets new year's resolutions, consider doing that a smidge early and starting at least to plan it out with this moon! plus a mercury retrograde beginning this week affects your committed partnerships for the next month or so.

leo: sagittarian activity all week including a new moon zests up your fun and romantic life. be creative and glamorous. meanwhile mercury retrograde can throw your routines for a loop, so try to be flexible about such things.

virgo: this is a great week for you to make changes around your home, welcome a new roommate or pet, decorate, etc. meanwhile for you, this IS the type of mercury retrograde that 'brings exes back,' so be prepared for that. you ARE allowed to talk to them but make sure that's something you actually would WANT before the 'opportunity' arises... or slaps you in the face, as the case may be. plan before acting! stick to your boundaries!

libra: while many don't think of librans as particularly intellectual beings, you know otherwise and it shows during a week like this one. you consume information voraciously and store it away for critical analysis and beneficial applications at a later time. a mild chaos in the home may occur but fortunately, you know just how to handle it and prevent a crisis.

scorpio: money goals are blessed from this new moon. but you will need to consciously avoid debt, forgive others what they might owe you, and strive for financial independence. meanwhile communication errors are likely in writing, so double check texts and emails before sending. maybe triple check them. maybe don't send them at all if possible. avoid signing contracts if you can.

sagittarius: new moons in your sign are glow up vibes, but also come with some shaking up in your relationships with others. try to let that be novelty rather than disagreements. your mercury retrograde warning this time around is to watch your money, be prepared to call your bank to resolve errors, and maybe wait until february or so for major purchases or serious accounting that isn't strictly necessary.

capricorn: although you can get through and over anything, it's not always fun to have to. but this is not an easy week for capricorns, as a mercury retrograde occurs in your sign immediately after a 12th house new moon. set spiritual intentions from the beginning of the week, knuckle down and strive onward but don't expect perfection or swiftness. be proud of yourself just for carrying on!

aquarius: this week's new moon and broader sagittarian vibes are great for your social life and any networking you need or want to do. you're friendly and people want to be around you! at the same time, though, mercury retrograde in your 12th house can tend to at least partially cancel out this vibe, making things seem a bit gloomy, maybe fixating you on surmounting an obstacle of some kind.

pisces: old friends, new friends, fictional friends, friends you only know from the dream realm all have the potential to resurface or disappear under this week's influences. you transcend time of course, so this need not be a huge worry for you, although small comings and goings can be emotional in the moment. feel it and let it pass through you, then continue. be on the lookout for helpful people who don't seem real. they may not be, but the help they provide is.

[ladythornofrivia]

Bane in my Bones

Pair: Toji x Reader x Nanami

Warning: Spice is nice. Toxic Drama. Toxic Family Issues. Fluff at the end. Smut included.

A/N: Sorry for not writing this series. I should’ve have done it sooner, but there are times when I feel like I don’t want to do anything at all, and yet I feel guilty about not writing the series that I promised here on my blog MONTHS AGO. I should’ve been better, and that I wish for my love writing will return, but I was afraid my love of writing will never come back, at all. Even if I do wish it, even if I do write, I’m still afraid it won’t return, or that I’ll be forever guilty about this whole ordeal. And I’m so happy that I get to see animated version of Toji Fushiguro in Jujutsu Kaisen!!! Thanks to the animated Toji, I now have the inspiration. Here’s chapter 2–the moment for Toji’s fangirls all been waiting for. And there’s a special guest in this series—so I decided to make as a love triangle. Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER 2

BETTING ONE'S LIKE IS NO JOKE

Toji hadn't been doing well with his current money on his bank account. Despite having the normalcy of a stable job, he desired for a quicker earnings. His life was at stake, low budget, low upgrade and low treatment from the great Zenin family. Nothing has ever come good from a Zenin clan. Everyone thought they're prestigiously intelligent and exuded with grace and wisdom. If only Toji could see how they truly are.

In the midday, he was making another bet for boat racing, he bet on boat 7, which is his favorite number. Anyone who chose number 4 is stupid. 4 is considered related to the word 'death' and bad luck. No hotels or apartments are contained with the numbers 4.

Duration of the boat race, Toji watched until he grew bored and ordered some salty snacks to eat up his boredom. Nothing was enough. But his wallet is empty, and his credit card has been declined.

Nothing was easy anymore. Especially the economy has struck disaster.

This morning, he had found a random woman sleeping in his bed, which made him pissed off at the last night's activities and kicked her out with no mercy. He hates being called as "Daddy". It's already grating enough for him for his memories to randomly conjure up in his head whenever he's busy.

Daddy this, Daddy that. He's not their father, and doesn't have a son.

Not that he's debating if he had one or not.

Boat number 7 broke down in the middle of the race and sank along the racer. Frustrated, Toji crumpled the paper and tossed it carelessly onto the ground.

"Betting on something stupid is stupid," a voice said behind Toji.

The man in a black suit and clean haircut, blew a smoke from a cigarette, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Shui Kong," Toji said, groaning. "What do you want?'

"Got bored with teaching students? I'm surprised you survived that college life for so long. I thought you'd bail out on the first day."

"Fuck off, I'm trying to watch the boat race," Toji grunted.

"The race is over, though," Shui said, smirking at Toji's displeased face. "Anyway, it's not the only reason why I'm here."

"Oh, do tell, but first buy me a box of yakisoba," Toji said, disinterested.

"It's regarding to your family," his companion informed.

"The great Zenin family, yada, yada, yada," Toji's hand waved. "I don't care about what they say. Their words always came from their shitty asses. Go buy the yakisoba; I'll pay you back later."

"With what money? You spent the last of the money on boat racing and a snack."

"Tch," Toji disgruntled. "Go, say whatever you say."

Shui cleared his throat. "It's rather urgent. Your father wants to see you."

"Again, I know what he's going to say. He's going to say that I'm the most disappointing son ever existed in his eyes. Thank god I'm adopted."

"This is about your son, Megumi," Shui mentioned. "He'll be taking over the clan in the near future. Your adopted father will kick you out the moment Megumi reach his potential on becoming an heir to his fortune."

"He never shared a slight of money," Toji groaned.

"He doesn't, which is why I'll be making a proposition--without letting them know, of course. This might be involve with hefty sum of fortune."

Toji's eyes snapped wide open. "I mean," Shui resumed, "if you still want to mope about the Zenin family, chances are your future is going to be bleak. Though I will say that rumor has it your not-so blood brother, is taking over the company in the future. Meaning, your last role to fill is not to become an obedient man, but becoming a family man in your adopted father's stead."

"Toji's teeth gritted. "That fucking bastard." Meeting Shui's twinkled eyes, Toji leaned back at his seat. "So, what kind of deal you want me to do? It better be worth it."

~~~

Reaching to your sanctuary, the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. Spotting you son asleep on his bed, clutching the sketcbook in hand and a pencil on the floor.

You tucked your son in with a blanket sheet, recently washed from laundry--contained in endless stacks of one clothing after another, then there's the bed sheets and pillow cases. None of which are helping you to get started since your college days have been nothing but torture.

Endless studies and notes in your major courses has been hell for your body and mind. This is the only time you'll be able to recharge is when coming home seeing your precious son, spritely and benign, something that you've never gifted with since born. Anything your son does, you support is fully needed, and needed badly. Not children should face their struggles and dreams alone without a proper kindness and support.

He has made drawings, already at a young age, he's curious and experiment with colors and art brushes and pencils alike. Each day, he drew something on a little piece of a sketchbook you bought. But since he wants his creativity to be expanded, you gathered a big sketchbook and a coloring book for him to fill with joy. The days of him occupying his thoughts, whether on painting or sketching, his mind has kept in occupying thoughts, a happy distraction. One day, he decided to fill an empty page of you and him, and despite the family picture is lacking, your son drew a picture what considered to be a tall man beside him.

Your heart race each time your son asks you about the whereabouts of his unknown father. Truth be told, it's better left unsaid.

Tucking his sketchbook aside on a desk lamp, you turned off the lights after you gave him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

Stepping out from the room, you prepare to make a cup of green tea and heat a frozen bread pizza in the microwave, then set it on the oven, ticking as the toaster heats up. You sat back down at the dining chair, not bothering to do the assignments to hand in for decent grade.

If only you could drop out from Professor Fushiguro's class. He has been nothing but a condescending soul seeping to you as the girls are there to kiss his ass. They didn't bother to consider that Professor Toj could possibly be married or have a girlfriend. He must have hidden it for a reason, however, you felt as if Toji would ever commit to a person that make themselves appear as a burden to him, maybe that's why he didn't mind girls throwing themselves at him.

Both parties are pathetic.

Thank God you reached home where are no typical noises of squealing that you can't stand. As you head lulled back down on the dining table, forehead pressing against the cold surface, you wonder if it's all worth it. It maybe all worth for your son's sake, your son's future, but, at the very moment, you felt stupid to choose a course that is somehow difficult for you to catch up due to your boredom and the ability to misunderstand the lecture--taking the wrong notes or missing the important ones, and somehow your grades went downhill.

At this moment, you wanted nothing more but to sleep.

"Forget to turn off the toaster," a voice said.

As you didn't open your eyes, lulling to deep sleep, the alarm went off. Not the toaster, your phone.

You woke up with fright, shutting the alarm off. You decided to take a day off from your early reminders.

"Miss (y/n)," a sornous voice called.

You said nothing.

"Miss (y/n)," a man voice's became louder and bolder.

Thinking it was Professor Toji, you sat up straight with wakeful eyes, but it turns out to be a dream.

The doorbell rang.

And with that, you set of running to unlock the doors without peeping through the peep hole, revealing a tall man with cheekbones is as fine as a blade.

"Nanami," you greeted, hugging him.

His hug returned quite awkwardly. Knowing he's not a people-person, you still managed to greet him with a friendly smile.

Beckoning to enter, the smell of pizza has caught Nanami's attention. He rushed into the kitchen and coughed.

Your pizza is over burnt. So he turned on the vents to blow the burning smell away as he opened the kitchen window.

Nanami, who turned your pizza bread off from the toaster.

"Thank god my kitchen isn't on fire," you said in relief, your back slouching, your arm propped over the chair frame.

"I take it that you aren't okay with anything's happening right now?' Nanami poured himself a cup of fresh tea

You sighed. "Yeah, it's been a real bother. I don't even want to go tomorrow. Ever since I attend college, I thought it would be good for the sake of my son, but it turns I've been pathetic. I can't even do anything right."

"You'll get the hang of it," Nanami said calmly, sipping.

"It's not office work," you said, exhausted. "I just want a good life. That' why I took upon educating myself, but this one..."

Nanami stopped lifting his cup halfway. "This one?"

You shook your head. "Nothing. Everyone has been a real bother. Everyone is easily distracted, which makes me easily distracted and overwhelmed."

"Why not take online classes?'

"Online classes is another thing. I just don't trust internet that much. Besides, I don't want to coop myself up in one room. I have to get out to meet new people, maybe something to take my mind off of. I just don't want to do another mistake. So what have you been up to?"

Nanami drank his tea. "Nothing much. Just work, and more co-workers being dumbasses as ever."

"You mean like Gojo?'

"Not that kind of dumbass," he answered.

"Is the co-worker loud and obnoxious?"

"Guess you could say that," he said, tossing your burnt pizza out in the trash bin.

"You and me both."

Then silence prevailed. No exchanged looks, no sudden drop of noise. Nothing. Just the AC rumbling.

"I hope you're doing okay," you began. "I mean, I've seen you of not having a decent sleep. Your eyes says it all."

"I'm doing fine," he denied.

You scoffed. "Liar. Come sit down, I'll prepare something for you. You know, Daichi would be happy to see you if he's awake."

"Where is he now?'

"Sleeping. He kept busy with his drawings! He's my little Michelangelo! Ah, if you could see how far he has gotten with drawings. Everything is perfect. My little Daichi is gifted. I bought more sketchbooks and coloring pencils for him to try if he's up for a challenge, but he settled his experimentations on color pencils sooner than I thought."

Nanami chortled. "You really love your son, don't you?'

"Why not? A mother's love should NEVER suffocates a child with their selfish and hypocritical ideals that make the child hates the mother. My mom does a terrible job of being one. She said to me, "When you have a child, you should control EVERYTHING at what your child says and does, and how the child feels and opinions. She's such a fucking annoyance."

“You didn’t stay,” he concluded.

"I didn't," you said, sipping a second refill. "That's why I got up and left from that household. There's nothing for me there. And I don't want Daichi to be in their life. I just want them to be out of Daichi's sight. He'll cry if he meets them, but I made sure I won't let it happen. Same thing goes with my dad and my relatives, and even my “saintly” sister who's way better at everything than me. I mean, who the hell do they think they are?"

"A mother's love cannot be bested by someone's boasting in accomplishments," Nanami said. "Nor does the ignorance of a family tradition."

"I don't want to become like them," you said, reminding yourself. "Or end up saying the hurtful words to Daichi the way my so-called family did. What they did to me was at its worst, and I feel as if I'm not doing good enough. They thought of me as a threat...just because I think and feel different from the rest of them. Even if they didn't accept me, why can't they just leave me alone, instead of interfere at every personal choices I make for myself? They could've just ignore me, pretend I don't exist so that I could leave without them remembering me. Even now, my family wants me to reconnect with them, but I refused. I didn't want to be open to them, I didn't want to give the closure they wanted. I changed my phone number, my address, my surname, everything. I just hope that they...they don't..."

Tears fell down, your sobs grew louder. You couldn't help it.

Large hands placed on your back, massaging your shoulder blades, circling them. When you're at your worst, nobody was there for you. Your dad mocked your cries, calling your voice 'ugly', then your mom's denial of claiming rude words against you, and your sister's cold-heartedness whenever you see her, she doesn't want to look up to see your "disgusting" face. That's why she moved out with her friends.

There is one point where you wanted to become deaf, so that they couldn't hear what they say and how they said it, with their actions as a contradiction.

You couldn't handle it anymore. You just wanted to start a new life with newfound family.

"(y/n)," Nanami cooed, his mouth leaning towards at the back of your ear shell. "The pain will be over soon. You've done well as a young mother."

Your heart jumped.

What you didn't expect was the subtle kiss he placed on your ear shell.

"Nanami--" The hot tea spilled onto his uniform. Nanami sighed with alert.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, Nanami. I'll go get some ice!"

Nanami reached for your wrist as you tried to run past him in the kitchen to fetch the ice from the freezer.

"Nanami?"

He said nothing but darting his unreadable eyes onto yours. With your stilled body, your dry throat scrunched up more, bobbing with anxiety. The AC resumed on making the thrumming noise from the roof.

"It'll leave a scar if you don't heal the burns hurry," you reminded, though whispered.

Heart pounded against your rib cage. Your hands coated in sweat. This has never happened to you before. Before Daichi, you suggested and insisted the idea of romance comes from books, but since Daichi is born in your stomach, reality hits too hard for you to handle. Not even your family's unnecessary commentary of how you become heavy and zombie-like, more stale looking and less bless with glow. In nine months, your dear family predetermine for you to be as a punching bag at every chance they get as their way of outlet of their horrible life.

Thank god your dearest friend, your most trusted friend, Nanami, bailed you out of the situation.

But what you felt for him, is he really a friend to begin with?

"What is it, Nanami?" Your face reddened, your quiet voice squeaked with concern.

Without given a warning, Nanami grasped your other arm before he pulled you in for an enticing kiss. Slipping his tongue to your opening, his arms encircled around your dainty body, pulling you closer even when the gap space is closed. Your hands suddenly have a mind of its own; slithered and ran down on Nanami's back, the boiling touch of his dousing office shirt entangled to yours

"(y/n)," he moaned, suddenly shoving you apart for him to discard his office suit off. However, his pants are intact, leaving your hands seizing and undo the belt. Nanami stopped you, plucking your neckline, trailing down on your engorged nipple with his nibbling kisses on the thin straps of your pastel pink tank top.

"I don't mind being as Daichi's Father," Nanami said, chuckling. "But," he said, inching his face closer to yours. "I don't mind you calling me. Wherever you go, whenever you need help, I'll always be there at your side, especially when I’m busy.”

Your sobs are about to appear again. You tried not to show it again, afraid of getting sick and tired by him.

"Nanami..." is all you could utter.

"Say "Yes, Daddy," he murmured.

Your heart bounced.

His fingers hooked your chin and lifted up to meet his commanding look in his cryptic gaze. "Say, "Yes, Daddy."

"Yes...Yes..."

Nanami stayed quiet, eyes coaxing you.

"Yes, Daddy," you whimpered.

With a slight smirk on his face, his face plunged in for another kiss. His hands roamed freely on your body, flowing with soft cotton nightgown. He took off his working glasses before implying a passionate kiss for the third time. Tucking his left hand in your night gown's skirt, his fingers hooked the lined fabric of your panties and slipped the undergarment downwards to your thighs, then your knees. Knowing what he was implying, your pussy is smothered in heat. By the time your pants came undone, he caught the material, stopping.

His phone had ring.

Groaning in frustration, Nanami took the call, but didn't let you go with the other hand.

"Nanami speaking. What is it this time?"

With a ragged breath, your head leaned in against his right breast, your hand pressed against the center of his chest, his heart pounding loudly as it can. It seems like you aren't the only one who's dealing with excitement.

"Fine, I'll be there. Just give a moment or two...It doesn't where I am. I'll be there." Then clicked his phone shut, his other hand attached to your waist again, his forehead pressed against yours.

"Work?' you uttered.

Nanami hummed.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," you suggested, rubbing his back. "I'll make the futon in my bedroom."

Nanami shook his head, leaning his head back to give a longing gaze at you. "If I didn't leave, how will I be able to give Daichi's future career in art and your dreams of gaining a life you deserve away from your family, by becoming as a truest moment of your happiest self?"

"I'll find a job. That's why I'm here, to start over."

Nanami's hand tucked into your long hair. "It doesn't have to be that way. I can help you, just like I've always been. You don't have to worry about your life anymore."

Your brows scrunched. "What are you saying?'

"Once I get back, please let me know of your answer."

"Wha--"

Nanami wore his doused suit and fetched his things before approaching the entrance door. Chasing after him by the grab on his forearm, Nanami turned and gave you a longing kiss. "Will you please be my wife?"

"Nanami..."

He gave a peck on your cheek, then your eyelids, and his lips finally landing onto your mouth. "Daddy's going to take care of you better than before. Wait for me, my sweet (y/n)," he said, then left, disappear from your sight, leaving you breathless at the previous events unfolded.

Taglist: @galactict3a @colored-tr-panels

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

For several years now I’ve been wanting to buy a knotted dildo (why do they never have smaller ones) but my dad often helps me with finances because I’m really bad at math and I would be super embarrassed if he found out. I doubt he would be mad at finding out I’m a monsterfucker, but it WOULD be super awkward, especially since a lot of knotted ones are labeled “dog” I don’t want my family to have an even worse impression before I can explain! Maybe it would be easier if I could drive and try to find in-person shops and pay in cash, but I have a health problem that makes me driving illegal sometimes, so that’s not a practical option. I know you aren’t supposed to use things that weren’t designed to go inside of your body, but I’ve been using an old detachable razor handle for years because of this. I don’t know what to do! I don’t think my dad pays much attention to what I buy but if something is flagged as unusual by the bank, they will sometimes call him about it. I’m not sure what I should do. I haven’t even bought a regular sex toy because I’m self conscious about this, let alone one like that!

I’m the “my dad helps me balance my checkbook and I’m terrible at math but I want a dildo” anon, and you don’t have to post this part if it’s too uncomfortable. That’s why i didn’t include it in my first ask. But the only time I had a friend offer to help me buy one that friend later died before it could happen so… I don’t really have anyone around to ask for assistance in… this. I know these aren’t your usual confessions, but i don’t really know where else to confess to this. The only other friend I think might possibly have helped me, moved a state away and i don’t want to bother her about it. I joke about being a freak sometimes but I really doubt my older family who might have heard me say that actually expects me to consider “freaky” something beyond oral. I’m not… I’m shy and wasn’t raised by people who were into much extreme stuff (my parents didn’t even swear around us until we were all over 16, and even now they don’t do it much! There are slurs I didn’t even know existed until senior high and my parents never used them! For obvious reasons. Which is good, but gives an idea of what I mean when I say not extreme. Even my grandparents are/were like this) so I’ve been told that it’s surprising when i tell a friend about these things for the first time. Coming out as demisexual wasn’t nearly as stressful to be honest, that might be weird but admitting my (admittedly not super exciting among this community) kinks feels shameful and humiliating for some reason. Telling a close friend is different I guess. My parents aren’t conservative people, not politically or in many other ways, but they definitely don’t know much about kinks. I can say that with confidence, I’ve read the romance novels my mom had lying around and I’ve seen them react genuinely shocked when something a little crazy happens in a show we’re watching. I just think I might have super vanilla family (in the 25 years I lived with them the most spicy things I encountered were those romance novels and what might have been lube) and I’m sure they would react, if not badly, just awkwardly. It would be super uncomfortable. They are the kinds of people to hear about that, look slightly horrified, say “okay” and just avoid talking about it after that, but every time a conversation gets too close to that everyone is awkward and avoids it. It’s like when someone is trying to talk about politics and everyone has to kind of bite their tongue or a shouting match will start while we’re trying to watch the mandalorian, just less aggressive, so not exactly the same, just similarly uncomfortable. This one also got longer than I meant it to. I don’t expect that my parents would disown me or anything, but it would change some things (although because my mom and I accidentally shared a kindle account when I was in highschool I’m pretty sure she knows I’m into monster romance novels) sex isn’t really a taboo topic, but it’s also not a comfortable one

[xiaq]

Why do feelings have to be so confusing???

I’ve never been super into labels, but if I had to choose I probably would have gone with aroace. I kind of figured I wouldn’t ever find someone I wanted to be in a relationship with and that was fine.

But now I’m 30 and somehow in a relationship for the very first time with this person that I love so much. And it’s wonderful and amazing in so many ways, but I also feel so crazy with it??

I feel like a teenager with their first crush but also too old for that and it’s like I don’t know how to trust myself in this because I’ve never felt anything close to this before.

Feeling romantic and sexual attraction for the first time there’s a part of me that’s like how has everyone been living like this the whole time??? It still doesn’t feel like it should be real somehow, even though I’m now experiencing it firsthand.

Anyway I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this, but if you either advice or even just stories to make me feel a little less ridiculous, I’d love to hear them!

I think it's really REALLY important to remember that socially reinforced ideas of normalcy when it comes to exploring sexuality are not, actually, normal. A. Because people are people and what works for one person doesn't work for others. While there's obviously going to be a bell curve on the graph of "when do people typically sort out who they want to kiss (or not kiss) and start doing that" there is going to be a steady, not insignificant, number of folks that are on the upward and downward swing of that bell curve before you even get to the far outliers, and that's to be expected. B. Traditionally accepted timelines for building a sense of sexual identity don't apply anymore. The average age for (first) marriage is creeping back each year. In the US in 1900 it was 26 for men and 22 for women. Now it's 29 and 27 respectively. Women, especially, don't have nearly the pressure placed upon them that they used to to quickly find someone who will take care of them seeing as we can now open bank accounts and own property and work for (mostly) equal pay and all that jazz. So there's that to consider.

But also. Humans, human bodies, are never stagnant. You might have heard the fun factoid that all our cells are replaced every 7 years. That's not entirely accurate, but it's true that the body does regenerate skin and bone and liver and stomach, and so on, cells at a kind of mind-boggling rate. There are things that we're born with that don't change like some of the neurons in our cerebral cortex, I think, but as a species we are generally made to adapt to new experiences and environments so much so that our bodies are in a constant state of change themselves. You're just...doing what you're built to do. Something new has happened and you're adapting to it.

And yes, it can be scary and make you feel very vulnerable when you don't have historical relationship or sex-related context like other people your age might have, but that's when you get to lean on friends and/or talk to your therapist to make sure you're approaching things in a healthy way, there aren't red flags you're missing, etc. Because humans are also pack animals and we thrive in communities in which we can share each others burdens and wisdom.

As someone who also had built what I thought was a pretty clear assessment of my romantic and sexual identity over 29 years, only to have it challenged and rebuilt at 30, I fully empathize with the way you feel. But I leaned into the feelings of confusion (and frankly, giddiness, at times). Who says teenagers are the only ones that get to experience first crushes? Who says 30 is too old for self-discovery? You get to decide how you interact with the world. Who cares what other people are doing if what you're doing makes you happy and hurts no one.

[cazort]

I see a disturbing number of people, mostly millennials, these days, who have significant incomes and are starting to amass significant savings, who have terrible financial management skills. People who live at home with parents and get a full time job can accumulate money really fast. A lot of people are letting huge amounts of money, like sometimes as much as $20,000 or more, accumulate in checking accounts where it is earning either no interest or negligible interest.

Because inflation is high (over 3% these days), you are effectively losing money when it sits there. Also you're allowing the bank to profit off it; it's lending your money out to other people, often at interest rates as high as 6-7% or more, and it's not paying you for it.

If you have more than maybe around $3000 dollars in an account, you want that money earning interest. Here are things you can do to earn more from your money:

Open a savings account at a higher yield. Go to a different bank if necessary. CIT Bank has rates around 5% these days.

Pay off high interest rate debt but not low-interest rate debt. If the interest rate is above about 7-8% definitely make it a priority to pay it off ASAP. If it is above 5% it is still better to pay it off than to sit on your money. If it is much below 5%, pay it off as slowly as possible (minimum payment only) because there are risk-free ways to earn more interest on your money.

If you don't need the money in the short-term, consider a CD (Certificate of Deposit) which offers a fixed interest rate over a certain time. Often you can get a slightly higher rate by tying your money up for 3 months or 6 months or sometimes even longer. These are good options if you have a specific expenditure in your future, like perhaps moving or buying a home, but you know it won't happen until after a certain date.

Open a brokerage account. Brokerage accounts allow you to buy and sell investments such as stocks, mutual funds, or bonds, which include CD's from banks as well as treasury and municipal bonds and corporate bonds. You get more options for buying CD's (i.e. you can compare many different banks side-by-side, buy CD with the best rate, and manage multiple CD's within a single interface.) Most brokerage accounts have no fees and typically no or very low minimum investments. There is no reason not to have one if you have a few thousand dollars.

In a brokerage account, buy a money market mutual fund. Look for one with no load and no transaction fee, a high yield, and a low expense ratio, and a fixed share price of $1 per share. My two favorite are SWVXX and SNSXX. SWVXX has a higher yield (about 5.19%) whereas SNSXX has a lower yield (just over 5%) but is non-taxable on state income taxes, so SNSXX is a better choice if you have a high state tax rate, otherwise SWVXX is better.

Consider opening a Roth IRA if you haven't, and then, if able, contribute the maximum amount each year. You are allowed to make a contribution that counts towards the previous year, up until the tax filing deadline of the current year. So for example today it is Mar. 14th, 2024, so you can open a Roth IRA today and contribute the max ($6,500) for the 2023 year and also the max ($7,000) for 2024, for a total of $13,500. The main advantage of a Roth IRA is that the money in them can grow tax-free. Roth IRA's benefit anyone able to have one (the richest people are not allowed to contribute to them) and are especially important for people who are self-employed, change jobs a lot, or never work full-time, so they don't have a consistent employee-provided retirement plan.

Consider investing in stocks. Stocks are riskier (in that their price changes, and you can lose money when investing in them), but tend to have a higher yield than savings and money market accounts and funds. The simplest way to buy stocks is to buy an ETF (exchange-traded-fund). I recommend buying one that follows the S&P 500 and has a low expense ratio like SPY or VOO. Whatever you buy, reinvest the dividends and let it grow, contribute a little money every year so are putting in money even in years the market is down. On average you get about a 10% return in the market but it is unpredictable and you will lose in some years, but that's okay, you're not retiring for many decades and the money will have grown a lot by then.

There are options regardless of your risk profile. It is throwing your money away to let a lot of money sit in a checking account. At a bare minimum, go for a high-yield savings account, CD, or better yet get a brokerage account, put it in high-yield money market funds like SWVXX, shop around for CD's or other bonds with the highest rates, and if you are able to tolerate some risk and want a higher return, consider putting some money in more aggressive investments like stocks.

I am 100% for tax reform and other reform to curb the extreme concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, but it's also important to take your financial situation into your own hands. Get financially comfortable. Get a stake in the US economy. Empower yourself so you can live better and help your family, friends, and the causes you care about.

[plussizefantasia]

Thank you so much Again for all those drabbles ❤️

They Really made my Day..

And for Moon knight I can imagine Nr. 1 And 14. (Marc Spector in front)

And i sure it wont be trashy, because you dont write like that, i love your style of writing ❤️

Sending so much love and hugs And thank you Again 💋

Coming Home

Pairing: Marc Spector x reader

Summary: You leave Marc to keep him safe, and he comes to take you home.

Word Count: ~700

A/N: I've never written for any of the Moon Knight boys before but I actually really like how this turned out! Thanks for all the requests during this drabble marathon, I've got a few new ideas for full fics that I'd like to write and more desire to get some of my WIPs wrapped up!

He had always said you were paranoid. Coming from him though, it meant absolutely nothing to you. Marc Spector was the picture definition of paranoia and you wouldn’t be taking any shit from him on that front.

Maybe he had a point though. A deal gone wrong had put you on the first plane out of Cairo and to some random little town in the Midwest. You had used all your contacts up getting documents faked, new bank accounts anything to get you off the grid. You were good at what you did, when you didn’t want to be found you wouldn’t. But no matter how good you were Marc was better, especially when it was you on the line.

You and Marc had a complicated relationship, you loved one another that was never in question, but your astonishing commitment issues and Marc’s never-ending stream of trauma had caused issues between the two of you. You would do anything for him and vice versa but sometimes you just couldn’t stand the man. He had told you about Steven about a year into your relationship, the two of you had never met but you did everything you could to reassure Marc that it was okay, this didn't change the way you felt about him. He didn’t want to seem vulnerable and you understood that so you never pushed. But you left, you didn’t want to put either of them in danger so you packed up what you needed, left Marc a note telling him not to come looking for you, and left.

It was a random Wednesday when you woke with an intense feeling of dread in your stomach. You were tempted to pack up and move along based on that feeling alone but, something told you that that would be a bad idea, plus you didn’t have any more favors to call in.

Your feeling was proven correct when someone kicked out your door in the middle of your dinner. You immediately reached for the gun stashed under the Ikea dining set that had come with the palace and pointed it at the intruder.

It took you a moment to fully register the sight in front of you. It was Marc, but he was dressed in some ancient-looking supersuit, with a moon-shaped blade in his hand.

“How did you figure out where I live?!” You yelled at the man you hadn’t seen in months not lowering your weapon. Marc did a quick scan of your apartment and stored his blade back in his weird chest cavity thing.

“It wasn’t easy.” he tried to joke

“That’s kind of the point dick-head.” You scowled in his direction

“Why are you in the middle of nowhere anyway” he tossed back at you. Slowly making his way toward you and lowering the gun in your hand. You let him.

“I enjoy the view.” you deadpanned at him.

���Ha. Ha,” he dryly replied.

“What are you doing here anyway?” 

“I’m here to take you home.” 

“And where is that this time” you questioned him, knowing the habit of moving around that the two of you shared.

“London, I have a place. And a fish.” You sighed deeply and made your way to the bedroom without a word.

“Where are you going?” he called after you, making no attempt to follow you.

“London apparently,” You returned with a black duffle bag full of the things you couldn’t replace. You stopped walking and faced Marc “I missed you.” You weren’t looking for a reply, you knew you wouldn’t get one.

Marc just lifted the corner of his lips into what you considered to be a smile. He leaned down and grabbed your bag in one hand, offering you the other.

Taking his hand in yours the tension in your chest eased. You might still be in danger, hunting and selling artifacts would never be a completely safe career anyway but you knew that Marc would do anything to protect you. After all, if he would follow you to the Midwest, he would follow you anywhere.

“So are we going to talk about the weird suit?” You tried.

“No.”

“Okay.”

[hachiibun]

Update Stuff (Art/IRL)

Just gotta put this out here real quick.

TL;DR ver: Been occupied by family stuff so snz art has been slow. Got scammed, lost like 35 USD. If you're willing AND have funds to spare, I have a Patreon and a Ko-fi.

Haven't had much time too work on snz-centric art and commissions as of late because of family visiting the area. Wasn't able to schedule around it well, some of it was a surprise. Happy to be around them, but it makes finding drawing time hard especially for snz.

Also, partially bc I was distracted by some sudden family medical stuff, I fell victim to a scam. Lost the money in my bank account. Good news, I didn't have a lot in there to lose. I don't keep too much money in there just in case something like this happens. Still, losing around 35 USD when trying to keep on top of bills is tough.

So here's where I plug my Patreon. Since it's tough for me to put out all-new stuff at the moment, I'm gonna be putting some of my WIPs and a few snz OC concepts I haven't shared on Tumblr up for patrons to see real soon. If a monthly pledge is too much, there's still my Ko-fi.

Of course, pledging and donating are not obligations. Please consider your own financial situations first.

Thanks for reading!

[theroyalthornoliachronicles]

After an amazing few months singing on stage in Finland, I have been lucky enough to be chosen to partake in a week long masterclass in Salzburg (starting this Saturday!), having gotten the call a week ago! It’s a big deal, and it will be a full on schedule with daily masterclasses and culminating in a performance at the end of the week, with people like potential agents and sponsors watching! I feel deeply honoured to be chosen! It feels like a step in the right direction for the future of my career and I cannot wait to see what the week brings! It could be the big stepping stone I need to finally get my career on it’s feet!

That being said, taking the time away to further my career leaves me vulnerable financially. Having just returned from Finland, and no shifts at my normal day to day job until September, it leaves me financially crippled, especially after having just had to move to a new home and spend what little savings I had into resettling myself back into the swing of London. As of right now my bank account will go negative by the end of the week, and with no way to feed myself or travel when I need to get the airport, or to take care of myself when I'm away in a different country, let alone worrying if I'll have enough money to pay rent come September...I'm feeling a great deal of stress.

But I refuse to let this damper my spirits. I know things will look up soon, but for now, I reach out to seek help. I've set up a little donation button through paypal, and I would be greatly honoured and humbled if anyone could consider donating, or even sharing my post and story around! Already I’ve had this post up on my personal social media’s for more than a day, and there has been no support, which has truly reminded me just how much my family do not approve/understand the life I live as a freelancer.

So I thank you in advance for all your help, even if all you are able to do is a simple reblog. That in and of itself I am just as grateful for. You all have helped me through so much, both known and unknown, and I’m humbled to have such a community surrounding me and this little part of the internet. 🥺

Thank you all for helping in whatever way you are able! ❤

[readychilledwine]

Genuine question.

How does it work when you and baby daddy date other people? Are you currently dating other people?

✨️ This is a great question ✨️

To start, everything we do is approved through each other. If I found a partner I wanted to bring into our relationship, or if baby daddy did, that partner or partners has to be approved by both of us. Someone can't just decide they are polyamorous without their partner being involved in that decision, approving it, and having knowledge of other parties involved. That's called ✨️cheating✨️ and it's a great way to get blacklisted from the CNM/polyamorous life style, because TRUST ME we all talk. There's groups. We all know each other, we all talk, and it will get back to all of us.

There's 9, I believe, different types of polyamorous relationships all varying on commitment level, style, and how they are ran. Baby Daddy and I prefer to be in a hierarchical triad (one other partner) or a quad (4 total people). We really prefer a Quad with another couple. That way, the boundaries of primary partners are established.

In hierarchical styles:

Your primary partner would be the one you potentially live with, share a bank account with, and/or are deeply committed to/married to, etc. In your this style of dating, that person's needs and wants are first for you, and yours are first for them. (You may also hear this referred to as a nesting partner.)

Your secondary (and tertiary) partner is the other person/people involved. You do not love them any less or want to be with them any less, but when it comes to emotional, physical, and mental time, they may receive slightly less of you, and they understand that. (Also, a lot of people do not like being referred to as secondary or tertiary partners. Just call them your boyfriend or girlfriend.)

We prefer quads in this style of dating because it is easier for us as a couple who are pretty deeply attached to each other. This isn't swinging, by the way. We aren't just switching partners. We are going on dates all four of us and all four of us are bonding, enjoying time together, and have our own sort of kind of mini relationships that have to all function to make the big relationship work. Swinging is a different style of CNM than what we partake in. We tried it once, baby daddy really did not like it, and that means it is no longer an option (and that HAS to be a two-way street in CNM lifestyles).

We are not currently dating or seeing anyone else. We were in a quad when we found out I was pregnant, and before someone who doesn't understand this lifestyle asks I know Sophia is his the other two were ciswomen, and they wanted to be child free and considered even dating us too close to have a kid. We were, and still are, fairly heartbroken over it, but we love and respect them and wanted to remain friends.

We've chosen to close off our relationship because we have formed a deeper intimacy now that we have a daughter. It would be unfair to ask someone else to get involved when we are exploring our new emotional and mental bond and when all our time goes to being parents.

We are unsure of when or if we will open back up. When we do, it will be a long talk and new boundaries, and that is okay.

Your needs, wants, and boundaries are allowed to change.

Especially when you're trying CNM or romantic polyamorous dating.

[stormkobra-5]

Hello dear, let's start ╰⁠(⁠＾⁠ᴗ⁠＾⁠)⁠╯

🦇 + the moon boys please? Thank you ✨🌺!

Hello 😌 okokokokok—

Steven:

This boi 110% plays Pokémon. Don’t ask me how I know this. I just do. His Pokédex is almost full and he’s like at level 546 if that’s a thing idk. If he’s not at work/reading up on mythology, he’s playing Pokémon.

Speaking of mythology. Based on books on his desk, he’s most definitely teaching himself Wakandan and Asgardian, just like he taught himself Ancient Egyptian. But have you also considered: Ancient Hebrew? Indian? Welsh? This guy can speak like twelve hundred languages. Steven, my friends, is a polyglot.

He doesn’t just read non-fiction; sometimes he enjoys fiction, too. His go-to comfort series is Percy Jackson (he got started on Kane Chronicles when he was just renting books on Egypt from the local library, and then realized it was a fiction novel and he had to go back and read the whole series).

Marc:

You know how I said Steven plays Pokémon? Marc is fucking OP in Animal Crossing. Hey— hey— easy— don’t be hasty. I mean he hates violence, so Call of Duty/Mortal Kombat isn’t really an option. He’d prefer relaxing games like Animal Crossing and Sims. He loves being just a Little Guy doing Little Guy things like gardening and decorating a house and stuff.

Feeding ducks. Marc is söft, okay? He likes to pretend he’s not but he’s so soft. And huggable. And cuddly. So when he goes to the park he always brings food for the ducks because he’s worried they might not have enough.

He has a collection of Star Wars comic books from when he was a kid, and baseball cards. They brought him comfort and were probably one of the only things he kept. He still looks at them.

Jake:

Jake isn’t like the other boys. He doesn’t care much for video games. No, Jake enjoys board games. Stuff like DND, to be specific. This guy has like 20 different characters and campaigns going at any given time, and he runs them out of the local pub with his buddies. He might disappear for a week or two without notice, but good fucking luck getting through Menkalavert the Red’s dungeon without his Lvl. 98 half-elf ranger with maxed-out stats. Nobody dares to play without Jake. He’s OP (he’ll also kick your ass at Monopoly btw, and he’s always hanging out in pubs so ofc he knows every card game ever invented).

Documentaries. Look. It might seem like he doesn’t care for/nor have the patience to sit through one. But think of it this way: he never got to go to school. Everything he knows he knows from Marc and Steven. How to read, write, spell, and such. So in his free time he’ll sit and watch something on the history channel or National Geographic just to learn something new. It makes him feel good, especially when Marc or Steven quiz him on it later and he gets all the questions correct.

Jake makes it a point to always visit the local homeless shelter with all the food and clothes he can fit in his car. His cab business brings in good money, so once Steven and Marc get their share (before they get jobs again), and once he spends only what he needs to, he spends the rest on food and clothes. He helps get them interview clothes for jobs, helps them get bank accounts and assists them until they’re able to find a home. There’s always someone new in the shelter for every group he helps, but he’s always ready to do it all over again.

Spookable September

[studyhaus]

Article Review - DNA Testing and Hacking

Here are five points summarizing my reflection on this BBC Future article:

1. Hacking of genetic data is very much possible as is with other types of data. What makes this more serious is the fact that your genomes cannot be changed, unlike a bank account number or credit details.

2. Genetic data, in the wrong hands, is vulnerable to being misused to spread radical messages and target communities. This is especially because ethnic details are easily identifiable.

3. Companies in this sector of DNA testing have not had the best track record of upholding data security for their customers. Basic safety features for confidential information like two factor authentication (2FA) have only been recently implemented, considering that the data being handled is incredibly sensitive.

4. The problem with consumer genetic services is that they are largely data-focused. At the end of the day, these companies could be bought by corporations where the information held could be used as an intellectual asset to be shared or traded with other parties. This reduces your genomes to be just value-adding numbers for an entity.

5. Yet, the fact that genetic data, when processed, can reveal much about a person’s lineage timeline or diseases that they can prevent beforehand cannot be denied. This is the reason why this sector of business is blooming. It is when the same particulars can be used to reject insurance or treatment that we can see how big of an issue their confidentiality is.

This was an interesting article from start to end and I think it was a good warning for readers interested in engaging in DNA testing to see the implications that it could pose for them. Good writing.

Disclaimer: This is purely a concise reflection on the points presented in the article. These are not my opinions at all. I am only posting knowledge.

Follow @studyhaus for more articles!

[charcadett]

How about polly Brassius and Hassel with an s/o who is also an artist and an animator?

Oh YES! Poly headcanons with two of my favs, hell yeah. I wrote this as a poly triad, as in you’re all three daying each other. I hope that’s okay!

Poly Hassel and Brassius With Artist S/O

- It’s never dull with these two as your boyfriends, especially if you’re a fellow artist. Hassel wears his heart on his sleeve with a tendency to wax poetic. Brassius is eccentric and prone to dramatics, and their shared passion for art makes them a force to be reckoned with. Add you into that equation, and silence is a lost and forgotten concept. If you’re not lending an ear, you’re rambling yourself, Hassel and Brassius hanging on your every word.

- They are your biggest supporters. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing. You could be working on a new project, an old project, or simply taking a break; Hassel and Brassius are cheering you on every step of the way. Whenever Hassel sees you, he will excitedly ask how your newest animation is coming along. Brassius is similarly supportive, although he tends to be absorbed in his own work. They both shower you with praise in affection whenever they see you. You’re practically drowning in it.

- Your name will get shortened into a nickname. Accept it. It’s inevitable. And also very likely to be cheesy. In regards to pet names, though, Brassius calls you “my muse,” “beloved,” and “my heart.” Hassel tends to go old-fashioned with “dear” and “love.”

- Communication is very important in your relationship. Where Brassius may take a bit of coaxing – he finds being vulnerable, especially regarding his personal struggles, an embarrassing endeavor – Hassel insists upon it. Once every few weeks, the three of you will sit down and discuss your relationship. What’s going well, what is the cause of some problems, and what can be done to help. Considering there aren’t usually any major issues, discussion tends to dissolve into date planning within fifteen minutes.

- Hassel and Brassius don’t currently live together. Not for lack of wanting to. It simply makes the most sense regarding their jobs. Hassel lives in Mesagoza to be close to the league and the school. Brassius lives in Artazon to be close to the Gym. You either switch between their houses or live separately. It’s up to you. Either way, be prepared for surprise visits from the two, together or separate. Despite their busy schedules, the three of you manage to spend a significant amount of time together, from visiting Hassel during his free period at the academy to cheering Brassius on during his Gym Battles.

- Sometimes, members of Hassel’s family come to visit. More specifically, a certain stubborn cousin. Brassius has slammed the door in their face several times. If Hassel’s around, he at least tries to be cordial, otherwise, they are nothing but a pest to him, and he treats them as such. You have never seen Hassel as angry as he was when you and Brassius finally told him about his cousin’s new and invasive tactic. While they never bother you again, you sometimes see them exiting the school in a huff. They take great pains to avoid you.

- As frustrating as this may be, some benefits come with Hassel’s family. Such as his spite-fueled use of the ancient dragon clan bank account.

- “Both of my muses in one place! How lucky a man am I?” Brassius says this whenever you and Hassel are in the same room. Every single time. Without fail. If there ever comes a day he doesn’t, take him to the hospital.