#lower my credit card bills

[debthelperdotcom]

"I Googled how to get help with debt. .  ." Shonta's debt management journey, in less than a minute

[old-stoneface]

cough couhg...hack.. just paid my rent and utilities and it was like 50 dollars more than usual

[norrisjpg]

novacane - ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.

contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x unnamed female character

...

...

lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.

the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.

venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.

"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.

fucking hell.

she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.

his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.

again, lando thought he was actually going to die.

"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.

he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.

"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.

yep, he was definitely going to die.

...

if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.

she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.

he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.

"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.

he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.

"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.

"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.

"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.

technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.

"let's go, come on."

...

as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.

she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.

“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.

“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.

“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”

she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.

“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.

"you think?" she responded quietly.

"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.

a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.

god, she looked divine.

she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)

a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.

"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.

a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?

"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.

"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"

"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.

he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.

not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.

she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.

over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.

they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.

"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.

the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.

"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.

"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."

he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.

their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.

"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.

he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.

lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)

the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.

breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.

the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.

she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.

"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"

pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?

"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.

now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.

his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.

maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.

his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.

sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.

"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

she was so gone.

lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.

she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.

she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.

she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.

that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.

slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.

"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.

"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"sleep, definitely."

[the-cooler-king]

Car insurance: $546

Me: yikes I haven't been working a lot and I still gotta pay my credit card bill... I got time why don't I finally do my tax return (I have 3 w-2 forms)

Federal tax return: $4500

Me: NICE... and the state?

State tax return: $8

[ms-demeanor]

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[ckret2]

Chapter 66 of that fic about human Bill but he's not in this chapter so forget about him: Ford and Dipper go cryptid hunting!

This is pretty much a standalone chapter so if somehow you stumbled on this without seeing the rest of the fic, u can just, read it by itself as a standalone Dipper and Ford adventure. It's funny. Promise.

####

The camera turned on to reveal Dipper, illuminated sunset orange and cast in heavy shadows, holding the camera out at arm's length. "Welcome back to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained, anomaly #175: the Fremont Nightwigglers!" He held up a paper title card in his free hand. "I'm Dipper Pines, and today I'm honored to introduce our special guest star—" he turned the camera around to focus on Ford from behind, "—the one and only Dr. Stanford Pines, PhD times twelve—"

Ford laughed self-consciously. "Dipper, nobody's going to recognize my name outside of a few highly specialized academic fields—"

"—the scientist who developed the Theory of Weirdness—"

"That paper isn't even ready for peer review yet, and I can't take all the credit—"

"—and the coolest dimension-hopping monster-fighting mystery-investigating great uncle in the world!"

Ford paused thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll take that one."

"Tonight, we're on the trail of the Fremont Nightwigglers." The recording cut to CCTV footage from a much higher-budget cryptid-hunting show (which Dipper had recorded by aiming the camera at the TV). The footage showed two marshmallow-like creatures that seemed to consist solely of heads, long legs, and feet—smooth, ghostly white, and featureless except for black eyes. They wore denim jeans that covered their bodies from ankles to waists, and their legs seemed to bend jointlessly, like an octopus's arms or an elephant's trunk. "These weird armless creatures have been seen up and down the west coast states, leaving behind a wave of jeans thefts at clothing stores; but by the time local law enforcement has ruled out any human suspects, the true culprits are always long gone."

The recording cut back to Dipper, who'd taken the lead so he could turn around the camera and aim it at both himself and Ford. "Based on investigative research done by Dr. Pines in the 80s, we believe the Nightwigglers have a migratory route several years long that passes through California, Oregon, Washington, and Canada. More research is needed to find out if they travel as far as Alaska or Mexico. Locals believe each Nightwiggler creates an individual burrow around a communal gathering spot to hide in during the day, and at night they assemble in the communal spot to travel or forage in nearby towns."

Ford threw in, "Based on what the townspeople told me about their habits, they've been in Gravity Falls much longer than usual. It typically takes them a week or two to pass through the area, but this year there have been sightings for more than a month. Perhaps we'll find out why."

"And thanks to a hot tip from an in-the-know local"—the recording cut to a few seconds of footage of Wendy proving she could do a handstand on the split-rail fence around the Mystery Shack—"we know which assembly spot they're currently camping around! Tonight, we're trying to get the first deliberate footage of a Nightwiggler..." Dipper lowered the camera and turned toward Ford, "Hey, what'll we call a group of them? A flock? Herd? Meeting? If we're the first investigators to officially document the species, we get to come up with the name , right?"

Ford considered the question. "What about a wobble of Nightwigglers? Since their legs are so... wobbly."

"Sure, that works."

"Is this really your 175th episode?" Ford asked. "I've missed quite a few."

"Ye—well..." Dipper lowered the camera. It recorded his shoes as he walked. "So far I've got a list of 175 anomalies I want to do an episode on, but I've only recorded and posted thirty-something. I think you've seen them all except the two I've done this summer." He sighed. "I'm... kinda disappointed by it, honestly."

"Why? You should be proud of your work so far! You're the only person in the world who's caught footage of the Hide Behind."

"By accident."

"Because you learned how to identify its call, chased it through half the forest, and were prepared with the right equipment to record it. That wasn't luck, Dipper—that was your hard work."

"I guess," Dipper said grudgingly. "I just... wanted to have a lot more produced by now."

"Wh—You started these last June? That's about one every two weeks. That's a very impressive output."

"I made most of them last summer, I hardly did any over the last school year or this summer."

"You've been focusing on your studies, that's good."

"Yeah, but what about this summer? All I've done so far is borrow some of Robbie's music video footage to make an episode about zombies and record some footage I haven't edited yet about Pacifica's alpaca thief. I didn't even get any footage of the haunted doll crane game before it disappeared. Most of the time I've been just... hiding in Soos's room playing Bloodcraft: Overdeath"—(under his breath Ford muttered "Blood-craft over death?")—"or hanging out with Wendy and her friends, or helping Soos with the Mystery Shack, or just trying to avoid..." He trailed off, suddenly conscious of the camera still aimed at the ground. It had started recording footprints drying in the mud after the recent rain: soft indents like the pads of paws, but with no distinct toes, about the size and length of human feet. Dipper lifted the camera to better record the trail they were walking down.

"Well... there's nothing wrong with taking a break during the summer," Ford said. "Especially considering that your last summer was... quite a bit more exciting than most kids'—"

"That's just it!" Dipper said. "Last summer I did so much! I investigated your disappearance, I filled half of your third journal, I helped stop the apocalypse, I wrote a book with Mabel about solving mysteries and doing fun stuff, I recorded like twenty Guides to the Unknown... Compared to that, this summer I feel like I'm—falling behind."

"Falling behind what?"

"I don't know. But—I just—I... feel like..." He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."

Ford offered, "Maybe, like you're not living up to your own potential?"

"Yes! That's it," Dipper said. "I'm not trying to grow up too fast, I'm just worried I'll grow up before I've done all the stuff I'm supposed to do now. Like I'm already running out of time."

"Hmm..." Ford let out a long, thoughtful sigh. "Dipper, I'm probably the wrong person to be giving this advice, considering that I'm not exactly... the paragon of moderation when it comes to pursuing professional ambitions. But—remember that you're only thirteen. Right now, you don't need to be worried about graduating valedictorian and starting up an anomaly-hunting show and doing groundbreaking research into previously-unknown strange and wondrous creatures," Ford said. "You just need to focus on graduating valedictorian first. That's all I did with my high school years, and after that I still managed to rack up multiple PhDs before age 30. You've got plenty of time!" He said this with the confidence of a man who didn't realize having his life derailed by a manipulative alien villain was the only reason he didn't burn out hard by 1984. "Outside of that, just... worry about being a kid."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said. "I keep worrying, though. I keep thinking, what if I'm wasting all my time on stuff that... just... doesn't matter? What if nothing I'm doing is actually important?"

Ford was silent a moment. "That's... a very existential question for your age. How long have you been worrying—"

Dipper hissed, "Grunkle Ford!" He jerked his camera up. "Is that fire?!" There was a faint orange glow in the distance between the trees.

"I think it is!"

Dipper whispered, "That's where I found the Nightwigglers' abanadoned campsite last time!"

"Did you see any signs that they knew how to start fires? Remains of a campfire?"

"I didn't notice anything."

"It could be a Scampfire..."

As quietly as they could, Dipper and Ford edged through the trees, Dipper all the while pointing the camera toward the light, until they found a narrow gap between two trees from which they could peer into the clearing.

There were three or four dozen Nightwigglers milling about in little clusters. Several had lit torches—sturdy sticks with the ends wrapped in fabric—which they carried by sticking the ends of the torches into their jeans' pockets.

"Dipper, look at the tops of their torches," Ford hissed. "Is that shredded denim?"

The camera zoomed in on the nearest torchbearing Nightwiggler. "I think so."

"We already knew they wore clothing—but they can make tools, too? How advanced are they..."

Ford trailed off as the clustered Nightwigglers separated, spreading out evenly into several rings. As the camera recorded, they began emitting a synchronized muffled humming; and then they began dancing, kicking their legs and turning in circles together. "Whoa," Dipper whispered. "Is this some kind of ritual?"

"What's its purpose?" Ford whispered back. "Recreation? Religion? Some sort of cultural event—?"

"Hold on. I think I recognize the song."

Ford and Dipper fell silent, watching in silence as the dance repeated a couple of times.

The Nightwigglers were doing the Hokey Pokey.

"Fascinating." The camera lurched sideways, and then turned toward Ford. Ford had stolen Dipper's journal from out of his vest pocket and was hastily taking notes on a blank page. "I had no idea Nightwiggler culture was so influenced by human culture. An hour ago, we didn't even know Nightwigglers have a culture. When could they have observed and learned the Hokey Pokey? It's not exactly a nighttime dance—do they spy on humans during the day?"

Dipper said, "What if we learned the dance from Nightwigglers?"

Ford stopped writing, looked up, and stared at Dipper, mind blown.

Dipper jerked the camera back toward the Nightwigglers as they filed out of the clearing. "Hey! Where are they going now?"

Dipper and Ford waited until the last Nightwiggler had left; and then they quietly followed.

####

After several minutes of silence except for the sound of footsteps, Ford said, "Are we headed toward Mabel's Fault?"

Dipper groaned. "I got enough of this place last week."

"Agreed." 

"Hey, you know Bill said we should rename it 'Bill's Fault'?"

Ford huffed. "Did he really? I don't believe it."

"Yeah. He tried to play it off like, 'oOOoh, I just want creEDit—'"

"That sounds like him—"

They came to a stop as the camera spied the Nightwigglers standing in the clearing around the fault, then they quickly moved off the path into the brush and crept closer. "What are they doing?" Dipper asked as they inched up to the tree line.

"I don't know—they're packed too tightly together for me to see."

"I've got an idea. Hold this." The camera bounced as Dipper passed it to Ford, who watched as Dipper climbed up one of the pine trees around the clearing. 

"Careful! There aren't a lot of low branches that can hold your weight."

"It's okay, Wendy showed me how to do this." Dipper held out his hand for the camera.

Ford passed it up to him. "What do you see?"

The camera foused on Mabel's Fault. "The Nightwigglers closest to the fault are taking off their jeans, ripping them into two separate legs, and... tossing them in the fault? Have you ever heard of this?"

"Never."

"Like a dozen have done it so far."

"Perhaps that's why they have to steal so many pairs of pants? But why..."

Dipper gasped. Tiny Nightwigglers had begun squirming out of the fault, each wearing a single denim pant leg, crawling around like inchworms with half the pant leg trailing behind them. The bigger Nightwigglers picked up the little ones with their feet and swaddled them in the excess fabric. "They're—I think they're baby Nightwigglers! Coming out of the fault!"

"Amazing! Is this how they reproduce?" Ford asked. "Is that why they travel the west coast—are they following the San Andreas Fault and the volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest?"

"Maybe that's why they've been in town so long," Dipper said. "Mabel's Fault wasn't here the last time they passed through."

"We'll have to find out what other towns they stay in the longest. How far is Fremont from the fault line—?"

"Hey," Dipper said, "A bunch more Nightwigglers took their jeans off. They're tying them in a circle." One of the torchbearer Nightwigglers knelt down and bowed forward, setting the jeans ring on fire; and it was tossed into the fault. The Nightwigglers that weren't carrying infants formed a circle and began Hokey Pokeying toward the fault.

"That definitely looks like a ritual," Ford said, "but why? To celebrate the births...?"

The ground rumbled. Dipper gasped and slipped several feet down the tree before he caught himself. When he refocused the camera, Mabel's Fault was several feet wider, and a fiery glow was rising up from within.

An enormous Nightwiggler, fifteen feet tall, climbed out of the fault. It wore a crown of flaming denim and tattered pants formed by stitching together many pairs of decades-old jeans. The Nightwigglers bowed down.

"Good lord," Ford breathed. "What is that? Did they summon it, or—or was it always down there?"

The giant Nightwiggler watched regally as its subjects danced around it. As they spun around and completed another repetition of the Hokey Pokey—that's what it's all a-BOUT—the giant punctuated the end of the dance with a ground-shaking stomp.

Dipper lost his grip on the tree. He and the camera crashed to the ground with a yelp. 

"Dipper! Are you alright?!"

"Ow... fine, probably just bruised."

The camera caught Ford kneeling to help Dipper sit up, and then Dipper grabbed the camera again as he stood. He pointed it back at the clearing.

Every single Nightwiggler, babies and giant included, was staring at them with wide black eyes.

Ford said, "Uh oh."

The giant let out a bellow like a muffled hunting horn.

The Nightwigglers charged.

Dipper and Ford ran away through the brush, screaming.

####

Dipper pointed the camera at his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks and arms were covered in small branch scrapes. "Still works," he reported to Ford.

"Great," Ford said. "That thing's hardy."

The camera jerked as Dipper tried to set it on a tree stump.

"Well, we got away with our lives," he said. "But... not without some losses."

He got the camera settled and backed up. He was wearing his vest zipped up around his hips like a skirt. Ford's trench coat was conspicuously buttoned up, and his legs were bare between his coat and boots. They both looked sheepish.

Ford said, "We've acquired some invaluable anthropological data, though."

"I'm calling this investigation a triumph," Dipper said.

Ford offered a hand. "High six!"

In the background, a skinny-legged Nightwiggler wearing Dipper's shorts darted through the trees.

####

(It's about time Dipper get a little personal attention. Hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!roommate!simon helps you get dressed for a night out because i love when men kneel

cw: nsfw content (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kisses through the mask, size kink, praise kink, a little oral (fem!receiving), a little suggestive touching (fem!receiving), simon likes thicc thighs, simon "my girl doesnt lift a finger because i worship her" riley

more bestfriend!roommate!simon

you haven't gone out in a long time. you were stuck working overnight shifts at the diner for extra money, busy every time you got a friendly text or a sweet call asking if you'd like to join your friends.

you hadn't told simon yet. you hadn't told him you were leaving tonight, but more worriedly, you hadn't told him you were struggling paying the bills. you scraped by the edges of your teeth last month to give him your half, and you remember looking at the cash in your wallet afterwards and wanting to vomit.

it was embarrassing. the landlord just kept urging you both for more, and while simon was always able to negotiate the raise every few months (one look at simon, and he always lowered his number), you were finding it difficult to keep up.

simon was successful. he was a decorated lieutenant, and he had many powerful friends. he never indulged in showing off his wealth; he wasn't raised with money, neither were you, and it was more than he knew what to do with. you remembered walking past him one night as he paid off a credit card on his laptop. you gagged when you saw the number in his account, the commas in the number.

why the fuck was in this piece of shit place with you when he could buy a house on a pebbled beach somewhere?

the dress was not cooperating. it had many straps that came in at the back, and they were twisted and crooked, looped around the corset back and making you a little frustrated. you sighed deeply before making your way across the hall, knocking gently on the bedroom across from you.

"simon?" there was no answer. "simon, i...could you help me for a second?"

the door opened a few moments later. a surgical mask was fit over his nose and mouth, a beanie over his head to cover the rest of him. you turned around in front of him, looking over your shoulder.

"i need help. it's all a mess, i can feel it."

his dark eyes flickered down to the back of your dress. the skin of your back was bare. you weren't wearing a bra underneath. you help up the front of the dress with both of your hands, cupping your breasts to keep it situated as simon finally reached over and began to unravel the laces of the corset.

"you goin' out?"

you nodded, rocking to the side a bit as he tugged the edges of the laces loose and began to tighten up the back of the corset. you held onto your stomach as the fabric of it began to shape the curve of your waist.

"yeah, just with some of the girls. they've been dying to go out, but i've just been working so much..."

"hmmm," he grunted in agreement. "'v hardly seen your face around here."

you sighed as he straightened out the straps, tying off the end of the corset with a tight bow at the bottom. you turned around to face him, and simon had to bite back the curse threatening to leave at the sight of you. the skin along your chest looked so soft, plump to the touch. he wanted to lean down and lick over the curve of your breasts right there, feel it bounce back with a hard kiss, watch your nipples harden if he blew on the sensitive contours of your neck.

"sorry...work has been...really busy."

"dunno 'bout that, luv. i know you're pickin' up shifts. i can hear you on the phone, asking to come in."

there was something more in that comment, something more he wanted to say lingering in the air. you frowned a little, meeting his eyes.

"im just trying to make extra money, simon, thats all."

he leaned in a little closer.

"if you need help--"

"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. "i know what you're going to say. i don't need your...i'm fine."

simon lowered his head slightly. for a moment, just one fleeting moment, you suddenly understand perhaps why men cowered on the battlefield. there was something dull and lifeless swirling there in his eyes. he was so much larger than you, big enough that he could probably wrap his whole hand around your neck and squeeze, and the life would leave you easy--and somehow you knew, those eyes wouldn't change, even knowing they would have taken the light from your own.

you knew, suddenly, that you were face to face with somebody else. a beast with a quiet name, a killer that rarely made a sound, the last whisper that one might ever hear.

you had angered simon, and his protector had come.

"you're lyin'."

"simon--"

"you're lyin' to me, sweetheart. where are your fuckin' manners?"

"i'm not one of your fucking soliders, simon. you can't give me orders," you snapped. you moved past him, hitting his shoulder with your own and going back into your room. you picked up your heels, taking a seat on your bed as you furiously slipped them on. your shadow followed, coming into your room and standing before you.

"how many times? how many times have i asked if everything is straight?"

you ignored him, continuing to slip your shoes on. of course, the ones you had picked out for tonight had straps that needed to be tied up your ankle.

"so i'm going to ask you again, luv, and you're gonna answer me well. do you need my bloody help?"

you let go of the ribbons of your shoes, letting them fall. you put your hands into your lap, your eyes on your crudely painted nails and skin of your knees and the way the shadow at your front began to come closer.

you swallowed hard when he knelt down at your feet. you watched with soft eyes as he picked up your foot gently by the ankle, resting it on his thigh. his gloved hands picked up the silk ribbons, beginning to cross them over your ankle. he straightened out the creases and made sure not to tie them twisted, being careful to make the ribbons look presentable.

when he finished tying the bow on one foot, he brought your ankle up, pressing the mouth of his mask to the silk of it and letting it fall. he picked up your other foot just as tenderly and with the precision of a sniper, he tied your ribbons and pressed a kiss to the silk.

with both your feet on the ground, and simon on his knees seemingly not going anywhere, you reached forward and slipped a hand under the hood, caressing one side of his face.

your palm was warm, fitting into the curve of his cheek. the fabric of his mask was soft as always, black cotton that shielded his pretty face from your eyes always. you never cared to look under it, never felt the need to make him take it off. even now, with his face in your hands, you felt no urge to see what was underneath. as far as you were concerned, the mask was his face--even if you had once seen that face and how stupidly handsome he was.

simon was an enigma. he had a poker face that many envied; the mask hid so much of his emotions, so much of what he might feel, and often he was even able to control the scrunch of his brows or the twitch of his eyes so you could read nothing. but he needed his eyes; he needed them to see, to engage, and if he could cover them, he would, but he needed them, so they were dark and wide, the one piece of him that he allowed.

so you tilted his head back with your hand on his face, letting the soft light of the room break him his hiding place. he wasn't wearing any eye-black today, and you smoothed a thumb just under his eye, watching his lashes flutter for a second. fuck, he was so pretty.

"you worry too much, simon," you whispered. "i'm fine. i promise."

you leaned forward, sighing deeply.

"i promise, simon," you said under your breath. "if something was wrong, i would tell you."

you tried looking into his eyes to convince him, but you knew as soon as you did, that you crucified the lie. something was wrong. you were scraping along, getting dragged by life, but you had learned a long time ago how to bury things into a box and swallow it all down.

you knew, also, that he didn't believe you. simon was too intelligent a man to think you were being honest there, but he didn't say anything. he just followed the warmth of your hand, and if he was a cat, he'd be purring.

you moved to stand, but simon reached for you, his gloved hands on your knees as he held you there. you opened your mouth to speak, but then he leaned forward, his head against your chest as he held you close. it forced your knees to spread to make room for him, and you sucked in a breath as both of his palms slipped up your thighs and caressed the soft skin there.

"simon--"

"don't want to bloody talk--"

"but--simon--"

it happened fast. one moment, you were sitting upright, cradling his head to your chest and feeling his hands along thighs, and the next, you were on your back, splayed across your bed, your dress riding up your hips and the stilettos of your heels digging into the meat of simon's back.

simon was not all muscle; sometimes, when he relaxed, you could feel the softness of him under your palm, a warmth that was solid, like a bear--something protective and built to last, like the foundations of a good home. and then sometimes he was like this--tense all over, muscles constricted, abdomen as taut as a rock, arms bulging as they worked and lifted and manhandled you like the lieutenant he was.

his head was buried between your thighs. you panted, breath heavy as you felt his heavy breath suddenly, his mask pushed up just enough so that he could lick a warm stripe up the inside of your thigh.

"you won't talk," simon murmured against the skin there. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward until he could kiss where your pelvis met your thigh. you shuddered at the feeling of his lips grazing the lace of your panties. "you won't fuckin' talk, but you will sing for me, luv."

"simon, i need to go..."

your voice was protesting, but your hands found the back of his head, smoothing over the locks of his hair. you whimpered when you felt the wetness of his tongue along the fabric of your panties. his entire mouth enveloped your mound, jaw hinging wide as he tasted you through the lace. you bucked up into his mouth, your hips chasing the wet feeling. he growled out angrily, keeping your hips pinned down as he sucked messily, his teeth nipping at the delicate lingerie.

you sucked in a shaky breath as he used a gloved finger to push it to the side, your cunt on display. he cursed when he spread your folds, watching the drip of you as it drenched your panties more, your sweet hole puckering around nothing.

"fuckin' hell--" he sucked on his teeth. "you're fuckin' drippin', luv."

"s-simon, i-i...i can explain, i..."

"don't have to explain anythin'."

you whined as he finally put his mouth on you. his tongue started low, teasing your cunt with a slow circle before curling, trying to flood his mouth with the taste of you. you tasted good, tasted familiar somehow, and his chest swelled at the thought that you were this wet because you were thinking about him.

he could listen to you for hours. the moans that passed through your glossy lips, the languid roll of your hips as you chased his tongue, the sweat that gathered at the base of your spine and along your forehead and the sound of his name sputtering in choked breaths out of your gorgeous mouth.

a vision. simon didnt believe paradise existed, but he believed there was something close to it. it used to be the side of a bullet hitting exactly where he aimed, the feel of foreign soil hitting his enemy's eyes before he took them down, getting his squad out of the gutter when they were pinned down on all sides. he was good at his job. he was good on the field, he was good with chaos, but this was new.

this feeling had always been somewhere under the surface whenever he was with you. he didn't recognize it at first because he had never felt anything quite like it. the feeling one gets when they get home after a long day. the light in someone's eyes when they see a face they recognize when they're in a place they don't belong. the light of a flame in room so dark, you can't see your hands held up in front of your face.

he wondered sometimes if he had ever felt this way with his family. if looking into his nephew's eyes, he had ever felt something like this--and he did, somewhat, but this was more. this wasn't the gentle nip of a soft animal, this kind of love had fangs, and it had sunk itself so deep into him, he knew it was latched onto him. sucking on his blood, draining the shit from his veins, and putting something else there, something addicting.

and he didn't care. he gripped your hips with his gloved hands, sucking on your clit and licking up the slick of you and trying so hard to please the woman that plagued every fucking thought in his head.

"simon--"

your voice was a sob, practically. whining his name, tears coming down your face as he ate you out furiously. he was gentle at first, and then he was nearly aggressive, slurping at your folds and fucking into your cunt and barely coming up for air. when he did come up, his tone was low and drunk-sounding, slurring out soft phrases of "like a fuckin' sweet" and "so fuckin' pretty."

your back arched off the bed. your makeup was ruined by now, surely. your corset askew, your stilettos digging dark holes into his back, your throat hoarse from the crying--simon had you like no one else. simon had you wrapped so tightly around his gloved finger, you might as well have been a brand there--an extension of that glove, one of the crude white bones painted along the back of his hand. he had carved a hole so deep inside of you, shaped perfectly to the beastly size of him; you would never be rid of him. your whole life after this, you just knew--nobody would ever eat your cunt the way lieutenant simon riley ate it, that was a fucking fact.

he moaned when you came. a deep, guttural moan that came from deep in his chest. his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you gushed right onto his tongue. he drank it like he was running desert dry, a kind of eagerness that was making your vision go a little fuzzy, sparkling dots hazing over you. your head was a mess of emotions, all clouded over by pleasure and your body limp in his arms. your body was jelly, so worn as if you had been fucked brainless, but, oh--simon hadn't even gotten that far with you, and his mouth had you spineless.

you sat up, hair tousled, legs shaking, breaths warm and heavy and easy. everything was easy with simon. living, breathing, loving, touching--everything was easy.

he stood up finally, rising from his knees and rolling out his shoulders, and even though you could see him subtly adjusting his pants, he didn't make a move on you. he didn't reach for you, didn't try and touch you again, didn't reach for the bow he had tied on your corset to try and undo it. no, simon had just given you a mind-numbing orgasm and if not for the strain on his zipper, you'd think he had just filed his fucking taxes.

"simon...s-simon--"

"have fun tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray hair out of your face. he tucked it behind your ear, the glove making you shiver. "you call me when y'ready to come home."

your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a soft smile on your face.

"m-maybe i dont...maybe i don't wanna go out, m-maybe i wanna stay here...with you...w-watch movies like we usually do."

he shook his head, his thumb swiping just under your chin.

"no. go have fun. i'll be waitin' here for you, luv."

his fingers traced along your neck, something in his eyes that said he wanted more. but a ghost doesn't beg, right?

but maybe simon does.

"okay. i'll call you."

"right then."

and when the click of your bedroom door shut, you looked down at your shoes, so prettily tied with a bow on the end. you reached down, gripping the end of the bow and pulling, watching the silk unravel and come undone.

and then he heard the call of his name again.

[4wkjun]

rude | lhs

pairing: lee heeseung × afab!reader

summary: heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.

contains: heeseung riding a motorcycle (🥵), smoking, cursing, toxic father, sugestive.

obvious note: inspired by magic!'s rude (don’t kill the magic, 2014).

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

“marry me” heeseung said, looking at you. you were laying on top of him, his own body occupying at least 80% of his mattress. you laughed, covering his mouth with your hand.

“stop saying that!”

“i’ll stop when you say yes” he said in a muffled tone behind your palm. his long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he kissed your palm before removing your hand from his lips. his other hand held your lowerback as he turned the both of you on the mattress, laying your head in his arm. “you know i can make you happy.”

“you already make me happy, lee heeseung.” heeseung sighed, frustrated at your answer. you chuckled and lifted your head a little to peck his lips. “it’s getting late. c’mon, i gotta go home.”

“why can’t you sleep over?” heeseung asked and tightened his grip around your body, not letting you get up.

“you know why...”

“your dad is not a good reason. gimme a good reason.”

“well, when he is the one who pays for my bills, he is a good reason.”

heeseung pouted.

“i can pay your bills” he said, smiling. you laughed, shaking your head. “if i give you my credit card, will you stay?”

“oh, please. i already love you for free” you said. he smiled big. “hee, i want to stay” you said and your thumb circled his bottom lip when his smile faded. “but you know i can’t, my dad’s gonna kill you.”

“worth the price” he sighed.

you smiled, getting rid of his grip. heeseung groaned when he saw you reaching for your purse sitting on his chair, knowing you’d walk home by yourself if he didn’t drive you. he got up behind you, upset because he couldn’t even spend the night with his girl.

heeseung parked his motorcycle in front of your gate, waiting until your feet reached the floor before getting out himself. you smiled when he took his helmet, fixing his smooth hair – or at least trying to, because the wind wouldn’t stop blowing. he looked so good like that, still holding onto his helmet, his leather jacket zipped up to his chin, trying to protect him from the cold wind announcing the autumn was coming to an end. the sunset was so pretty, reflecting golden streaks of light into his beautiful skin.

“are you cold?” he asked, his gaze fixed on your face. his hands fixed your sweater, pulling the collar up to protect more of your skin. “i know you hate the wind when riding, i tried to come as slowly as possible...”

he pouted, now focused on fixing your wild hair post-helmet. you smiled, holding his waist. your hands felt cold inside of the gloves and your face hurt as if all of your blood disappeared, but your heart always felt warm next to heeseung.

“i love you” you said, your eyes fixed on his. he lowered his gaze to meet yours, smiling.

“and i love you, silly.”

in your tiptoes, you reached his neck and pulled him closer to kiss his lips. he kissed you back, his hands holding you in place for a little longer than needed. you chuckled when he let you get away from his touch.

“go, get inside and take a warm bath. i’ll wait you get inside” he said.

as always, you waved to him while closing the gate, his smile never fading until you closed it entirely.

heeseung sighed, leaning against his motorcycle and taking the cigarettes pack out of his pocket. with the cigarette between his freezing lips, he searched for the lighter inside of his pockets. it took him a while to find it and when he lifted it up to his face, he saw your dad’s car pulling over.

“fuck” he groaned, finally lightning his cigarette. the smoke filled his insides, warming up. heeseung watched closely as his lovely father-in-law got out of the car, closing it behind him. he let the smoke out of his mouth, making a cloud. “what’s up?” he grinned.

your father sighed, clearly annoyed.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

“just passing by” heeseung shrugged. he couldn’t tell your father he just dropped your by, he didn’t know you spent almost everyday with heeseung in his house.

“if you’re planning on taking y/n out, drop it. she’s not going anywhere with you, specially at this time.”

heeseung checked his clock between his puffs. 18:02. he laughed.

“don’t worry, old man. before you notice, we’ll be a married couple” heeseung started, taking his time with his last puff. he let the smoke out slowly, directing it towards your father’s face. your father tried to fan the smoke away with his hand, his eyebrows frowned. “i’ll let you visit us, though. even past six.”

heeseung smimed at him, throwing the rest of the cigarette on the sidewalk. as your father filled his lungs to start speaking, heeseung grabbed his helmet, ready to leave.

“she’s not gonna marry someone like you. i’ll never get you my blessing.”

“we don’t need your blessing, we need a priest” he responded, getting on top of his motorcycle again. he laughed at your father’s facial expression before actually leaving.

it was half past three in the morning when heeseung finished his shift at the bar, tired as hell. he drove straight home and doze off without even a shower, completely worn-out. he woke up around noon, his phone blowing up with random texts you sent, just like every morning. he smiled at his phone, finding amusing a specific text you sent: “did you see my father yesterday?” he opted for speaking about this when you got out of class. heeseung took a long shower and cooked a quick meal for the both of you before taking off to pick you up.

you felt like you could almost drool at the sight of heeseung riding that motorcycle, with his usual leather jacket and skinny jeans. unfortunately, the other girls waiting for their rides also could drool at the sight of him. you almost lost your shit when one of them said “i wish he was picking me up like this.”

heeseung knew the thirsty girls around you made you go nuts, so everytime he parked to wait for you, he would take his helmet off so he could peck your lips, allowing you to show them he’s yours.

the drive back to his place was chill, he would rub your hands around his waist at every red light, trying to keep you warmer. you waited until he properly parked the motorcycle in his driveway before throwing yourself in his arms, kissing his lips.

“i missed you” you muffled before kissing him again. heeseung chuckled, kissing you back. he caressed your hair when you let go of him, smiling.

“i missed you too.”

he held your hand as you walked into his apartment complex, taking a good look at your ass while you walked in front of him in the stairs.

“so” you started, taking your shoes off and placing your helmet inside of the tiny closet in the hall. “did you meet my dad yesterday?”

“it’s more of he met me” heeseung answered, laughing behind you. he followed your steps, putting his helmet away along with his shoes. “i was outside and he arrived, that’s all.”

you hummed.

“why?” heeseung asked, reaching for his pack of cigarettes on top of the table. “did he say something?” he mumbled, holding that damn cigarette between his lips.

you sighed, walking towards his mini kitchen – pretty much delimited by his counter. you reached for the top shelf while scolding heeseung:

“what do i have to do for you to stop smoking?”

heeseung laughed, letting go a cloud of smoke towards the opened window he was standing next to.

“say you’ll marry me and i quit right now.” you sighed again, placing the plates you just grabbed on the counter. “won’t you answer my question?”

“to marry you?”

“hmm, i was talking about what your dad said about me, but... y’know” he said, puffing the cigarette again. the nicotine rush made him feel completely calm and relaxed, but he meant it. if to you said yes, he’d quit immediately.

you turned around with a plate in your hand, opening the budaejjigae pan. as you filled your plate, you said:

“he said something among the lines of my boyfriend being disrespectful towards him and i should leave him, just the usual” you shrugged. heeseung laughed, shaking his head as he exhaled the smoke again. “did you say something i should worry about this time?”

“no” heeseung said before inhaling and exhaling again. “just told him he won’t have to worry about controlling the time you go out with me in a while...”

“let me guess” you said, putting one of the plates on the counter and grabbing the other one to fill with food. “because we’re gonna get married?”

“yeah” heeseung smiled. after two seconds, his smile faded. “i mean... you’re always rejecting my “proposals” and i assumed you were joking because we’re young and... i don’t know, do you actually want to marry me someday?”

you turned around, only to face heeseung with a worried expression on his face, still sucking onto that damn cigarette.

“of course i do, heeseung” you said, serious. “i just can’t run away and marry you right now, but i dream about the day i’ll be able to say yes.”

“oh” he said after exhaling the smoke for the nth time. “i thought you were like bella in eclipse.”

you let out a loud laugh, walking towards him. ignoring the smoke on his tongue, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. he smiled during the kiss, throwing his cigarette down the window to properly wrap his arms around you. he loved you so much.

you were only officially “allowed” to see heeseung during weekends. he would call an uber to your place and pretend as if he didn’t give your personal helmet as soon as he bought his motorcycle so you could ride with him. he would get inside, greet your lovely mom, your annoying younger brother, pretend he could deal with your father and leave as soon as possible, desperate to kiss your lips. however, when you and heeseung were walking towards the door, your father stopped you.

“we need to talk.”

“right now?” you whined. “we have thirty minutes to be inside of the movie theater, dad.”

“the movie can wait, y/n. i pay for your credit card, i can afford to lose the money of a ticket.”

heeseung fought the urge to flip your dad off and tell you to get your stuff upstairs so you could move in with him.

“sit down” your father pointed to the couch in front of him. you and heeseung took a seat, heeseung already running out of patience. “you know, y/n... i ran across heeseung smoking in front of our house a couple of days ago. he said something about marrying you. did you accept marrying this man without my approval?”

“i didn’t. not yet.”

“not yet? do you want me to ground you?”

heeseung took a deep breath and bit his cheek. he needed to smoke immediately or at least punch your dad in the face, otherwise we would lose his shit.

“ground me?” you laughed. “i’m 21. you can’t ground me.”

“i can stop paying for all of your crap and let you starve while you do that shitty university course – which i pay for the tuition.”

“she doesn’t need your money, mr. choi.”

you tried your best not to slap heeseung and say: i do, actually.

“oh, yeah? and who’s gonna provide for her? you? a barman?”

your blood boiled inside of your veins. “stop talking about him like this, dad. you’re no better than him.” your dad scoffed.

“that’s ok, love. he wouldn’t understand what it means to really love someone” heeseung said, caressing your head as he always did.

“no, this is not ok. i’m in love with heeseung, dad. i’ll go anywhere he goes.”

heeseung smiled at your sudden confession. your mother and brother watched the whole show from the kitchen, afraid to step in.

“oh, yeah? then grab your things and go.”

“fine” you said, getting up and pulling heeseung’s hand. he followed you towards the stairs, proud but worried. you slammed the door behind your back and locking it. heeseung stood there, confused. “help me get that bag on the top shelf” you said, sliding the door of your closet.

“babe, wait...” heeseung started. he grabbed your hands, stopping you from walking around the room. “take a deep breath. are you sure you wanna do this?”

“why? aren’t you the one who asked me to marry you literally everyday?” you asked, confused. heeseung pulled you close, hugging your tiny torso.

“yeah, of course. i dream about marrying you everyday, baby. but... your father provides you a lifestyle i won’t be able to continue. i am a barman at the end of the day, love. i’m afraid i won’t be enough.” your eyes filled with tears as you hugged him back.

“you are enough, hee. i don’t need a fancy house or diamond earrings as birthday gifts. i need you. only you.” heeseung smiled against your hair, kissing the top of your head right after.

“ok, then... let’s make your bags and leave, hm?” he said, slowly getting away from your figure. as you turned around, heeseung searched through his pockets inside of his signature leather jacket. you heard the sound of the leather rubbing against itself, turning around.

“you’re not gonna smoke right now, are you? we’re gonna asphyxiate here.” heeseung laughed, kneeling down.

“i’m not looking for my lighter, babe” he said, pulling a tiny box inside of his inner pocket. “i’ve been keeping this around for a while now, waiting for the right moment... honestly, this seems like a point of no return of our lives, so... y/n, will you marry me?”

the next three weeks were though, but you loved them. heeseung lived in a tiny apartment – really tiny with only one bedroom, a single bed, a bathroom of the size of your actuall mattress and a kitchen you could barely cook in – but now that it was also your apartment, everything felt different. you enjoyed the nights you spent smashed against heeseung’s chest, and enjoyed even more the nights he smashed you against that mattress with no intention of sleeping at all. you loved coming home, taking a shower and dressing your clothes that were tidy inside of heeseung’s wardrobe. you loved cooking and cleaning the tiny house while heeseung worked at the bar of the club, saving all of his tips for you. you loved that he actuall quit smoking right after you said yes.

right after you shoved all of your bags inside of his small living room, heeseung drove you to the official registry so you could pick a date to get married. heeseung paid for the fee right on the spot, surprising the employee behind that desk. the two of you called your closest friends to attend the wedding at witnesses and now you were ready to take this step.

“maybe i should be at jay’s right now” heeseung said, zipping your white dress for you. “the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding!”

you laughed, putting your earrings on in front of the mirror. “we don’t need any of this superstition, baby. we’re gonna be happy no matter what, remember? you’ve been telling me that all of the time since we started dating.”

“yep, saying the same thing for about four years paid it’s price” you laughed, turning around to kiss his lips.

three hours later, the both of you signed all of the papers you needed and exchanged your rings. with a lovely kiss and weird applause from your best friends, you and heeseung were officially married.

“i told you i was gonna marry you anyway” he whispered against your lips. you smiled, kissing him again.

he did say it, a million times. and you realized as time went by that he was actually right. you moved out of that tiny house, he got a more stable job, you graduated and started working in your field. sometimes the money was indeed a problem, but by the end, everything was worth it.

heeseung is worth it.

[unsleepingtales]

FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR TRAILER CHARACTER ART BREAKDOWN

The character artist credited for this season on the FAQ is Cait May! Without further ado, let's get into it.

Each character card has the PC art, the PC's name, the player's name, and a couple extra details such as an NPC they're connected to and/or plot points from the previous seasons.

Here is Adaine's character card! Boggy gets pride of place of course, with his backpack and ESF (Emotional Support Frog) flag. The sword is possibly a step towards confirming the popular prediction that Adaine will multiclass as a Fighter this season. There's also a small sketch of Jawbone in the corner. Adaine's jacket has an owlbears patch on the sleeve!

Fabian's character card follows a similar formula. There's a small sketch of Bill Seacaster in the upper left corner (titled PA-PA), and there are many references to dancing. Fabian holds his sheet. In several places the words Toxic Masculinity have been crossed out! He dances now! One of Fabian's first defining lines is referenced: "I'm here to be great!"

It's not very clear what this ticket is for, but to me it looks like a ticket to a dance recital!

Kristen's character card is next! The many holy symbols she has previously believed in are seen, a sun has been crossed out, as well as "yes?". Cassandra appears in the upper right corner, while an ear of corn appears in the lower left, not crossed out!

Cassandra looks vaguely worried, which could be their natural state, or it could indicate that Kristen's questions of faith are still just as present as they have been previously.

Riz's character card is a lot more detailed than the previous ones. Trailer analysts far more intense than I will have a field day with this, I'm gonna give the sparknotes. Riz takes front and center, with his (un)license above his shoulder! Next to him is a sketch of Coach Daybreak. Several sticky notes with the words Night Yorb appear, as well as references Riz's previous cases. Drawings of Kalvaxus and a Corn Cutie are next to each other. The photo of Pok and Kalina is shown, as is a drawing of Baron. There's also a sticky note with "Jorjug" on it, which probably isn't as important but I certainly enjoy it.

Fig's character card features her art for the season, a large Anarchy symbol, and her bass guitar. A small sketch of Gilear is shown, as well as a ticket to what's likely a Cig Figs concert, and a skateboard!

The toe of a combat boot is poking out from behind the paper with the skateboard on it. Burn Towns, Get Money is also written in the corner, which is the name of one of Fig and the Cig Figs' hit songs. The Sig Figs Collective put out a fan song version that slaps, which you can find here! (Tbh you should just check out their whole discography)

Gorgug and his greatest hits appear on this character card! The 'are you my dad' bit keeps on running. Keep Going is also written several times. The white streaks are still in his hair, headphones around his neck, and his axe gets the most movement we've seen in one of these cards.

(Gorgug gets a small animation in the transition to his character card!)

The word metal is shown, as well as a sketch of the metal flower from the very first episode.

There are also a couple of group shots!

Look at them go! The Bad Kids are back and I am so excited to see where they go this year.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 12

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You wake up shivering. The AC blasts over your bare legs and speckles across your skin. You roll over as your skull rattles. Your left eye twitches as you sit up and hug the pillow against your middle for warmth. 

For a second, you’re at your dad’s house; the next you’re in the cabin; and at last, you come back to the present. 

Andy’s voice rolls in a low timbre but you can’t make out his words. His tone is dire and has you stumbling to your feet. Something’s wrong. Your dad! 

You follow it to the kitchen and find him with his hand to his ear. He’s on the phone with someone. Your phone. You blink as you stare at your pearl case. He nods in recognition and wraps up the call. He comes around the square island and offers you the cell. 

“It kept going off.” He explains. 

“Was it the hospital? Is dad okay?” You nearly snatch it away. 

“No, no. I called earlier. He’s going through some tests and exercises.” He crosses his arms and leans on the counter. “That was the insurance company.” 

“Insurance?” You cringe and lower your hand to your side. You squeeze the phone tight. 

“I know, shouldn’t have touched it but you were out and I was concerned. You got enough on your plate.” 

“What-- what did they say? Why did they call?” You demand. 

Did they change their mind? What there something else you can do? Andy purses his lips and rubs along the angle of his jaw, his other hand still folded over his chest. 

“Claim denied. You’ll have to deal directly with the hospital for payment.” He exhales and frowns. “Those kinda bills are never easy. I know it well. A lot to deal with on top of everything else.” 

“Yeah, I... I spoke with them before but... I haven’t had time to figure out—I could get a credit card? Or a loan? Maybe. I don’t have anything on my credit so...” You shrug and shake your head. “It’s not your problem.” 

“But I can help.” 

You flinch at his offer. You scoff and wave the phone at him. “No, no. You’ve done so much. More than enough. I couldn’t... couldn’t ask that. No. No.” You’re arguing with yourself as much as him. “I can do this. I’m an adult and it’s my responsibility. I’ll... I’ll drop out. Dad has my tuition in savings. I’ll have to look over his accounts and--” 

“What about the nurse? The physio? The counseling?” Andy asks. 

You freeze and stare at him. You shiver again but not because you’re cold. You grimace and move your lips wordlessly. 

“This isn’t just a hospital stay, sweetheart. This is going to be a long recovery. It could even be the rest of his life.” 

His grim tone sinks into your stomach and you feel sick. You press a hand to your cheek and nod. You roll your eyes up in an effort to bid back the tears. 

“I know. I’ll... I’ll figure it out. I will. I can... I have to.” You turn way to hide your mounting distress.

You don’t think you can do all of this. You didn’t think about tomorrow or the next day or next month or next year. What do you do when the savings run out? You don’t even know how much your dad has? 

“You don’t have to do it alone. I could--” 

“Why would you help?” You spin to face him. “I’m young and scared but I’m not naive. No one just helps someone like that. Someone they barely know. Even my mom--” You choke back a sob and steady yourself. 

“Your dad’s my friend.” 

“Yeah, for what? A couple of years?” You put the heel of your hand and the butt of your phone to your temples. 

“You’re a nice girl. I wanna help.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Because you shouldn’t have to do this alone.” 

“No, why did you answer the phone?” Tendrils creep up your back and wrap around your neck. You drop your arms. “Why... why did you rent this house? Why are you doing all of this?” 

“You need it--” 

“Answer my question. I can’t-- I can’t handle anything else.” You snap. “I’ve been so distracted, so swept up in it all that I didn’t stop to think why a fifty-year old man is doing all of this?” 

He’s quiet as your heart thumps and you look him in the face. He stares back and a line forms in his forehead as his cheek dimples. The silver at his temples is more obvious and the speckle in his beard as well. This man is your father’s age. He might be a neighbour and a friend but your dad isn’t exactly the nicest guy. 

“I do want to help.” He speaks at last. The lilt in his voice says it all. All your suspicions coil tightly in your chest. “I could help. I could take care of you and your dad. I would--” 

“Jesus. Are you serious?” You warble through the swell in your throat. “It’s... no, no, not that. How—you could be my father?! Your son--” 

“I’m not your father.” He insists tersely. “And I’m not too old.” 

“Oh god!” You hit your head in frustration. “I’m so stupid. I’m so goddamn stupid. How could I—but why would I ever--” You rant wildly as you pace around frantically. You spin and face the walls and examine every inch. “I-- I’m already fucked. I’m--” 

Your legs shake and you wobble around. You stagger into the door frame and cling to it. You heave, a sharp whistle rising from your throat with each crushing breath. Your tears roll down your cheeks and you slide down to your knees. You claw at your neck as the air snags in your throat. 

“Sweetheart,” Andy nears and kneels. He touches your back and you flinch. “You gotta breathe. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Y-yeah. I—ammmmm.” You squeak as your vision swims and you grip the door frame tightly. 

“It’s okay.” He coaxes and rubs between your shoulders. 

“No-” 

“I’m not asking for much--” 

Your head pulses and you sit back on your heels. Your look at him in a flume of rage and horror. You slap his shoulder. Once, twice, again. Then you shove him away from you. You sob and fall forward onto your hands and shake in a storm of grief. 

This can’t be real. You just need your dad. You need him to hug you and tell you it’s going to be okay. 

[debthelperdotcom]

Juan's Debthelper Success Story

[pillarofna]

happy tdov ! please help me pay off my credit card 🥲

hi all, i’m dylan, a disabled + mentally ill trans guy. i’m waiting on (several) calls back to get a job but currently i owe $1,677 on my credit card (on top of the $11,000 i’m already in debt, thanks student loans) and i’m just looking to get that amount lowered as much as i can.

i am also still about $95 short of covering my cat’s latest vet bill. at this point literally anything helps. thank you all so much for your continued kindness.

päypal (@ aidenallison) or click here

cäshapp ($diabolicshrimp) or click here

vënmo (@ diabolicshrimp)

[chichiscloset]

How I Earned a 782 Credit Score at 23

I believe that understanding the ins and outs of managing our finances is essential in our quest for leveling up in life. After all, what good is achieving our dreams if we're not equipped with the knowledge and tools to sustain and grow our success? So how did I do it?

1. Living with parents while in school

While I had the advantage of fewer bills to pay, I still encountered challenges in managing my finances effectively. In the past, I used to blow money like it was nothing, with little to no savings to show for it. However, recognizing the opportunity to change my habits, I embarked on a journey of financial education, starting with reading "Rich Dad Poor Dad" by Robert Kiyosaki. Over the course of 6-12 months, I diligently saved and invested most of my income, laying the groundwork for my financial future. This disciplined approach not only helped me build a healthy relationship with money but also demonstrated to the bank that I was responsible and capable of handling a credit card. It was only after this period of financial growth and learning that I felt confident enough to apply for my first credit card. After being rejected 3 times prior!

2. Become Delusional as F**k

The biggest change in my relationship with money came when I realized that it's not inherently bad; I have a good relationship with money, and money works for me—this is my reality i lived in even during the times I was broke. I remained delusional in my belief that financialsuccess for me was attainable, and remarkably, it worked. This perspective empowered me to view money as a tool for creating wealth rather than something to fear. I learned to use a credit card to work for me, not as a slave to debt, and discovered how to leverage debt to make more money. This shift in mindset helped me overcome financial fears and embrace opportunities for growth.

For more financial literacy context read these posts

Escape Your 9-5 Job If You Don’t Want to Work

“Make Money When your Young, Pretty & Ambitious.”

How to make a credit card work for you

Keep Low Credit Utilization:

Aim to keep your credit card balances low relative to your credit limits. This utilization ratio should ideally be below 30%, with lower percentages being even better. High credit utilization can negatively impact your credit score.

Pay On Time, DONT MISS PAYMENTS

Consistently paying your credit card bills on time is crucial for maintaining a high credit score. Late payments can significantly damage your credit score and stay on your credit report for years.

Keep Old Accounts Open:

The length of your credit history is an essential factor in determining your credit score. Keeping old credit card accounts open, even if you're not actively using them, can help lengthen your credit history and improve your score.

Monitor Your Credit Report:

Reviewing your credit report allows you to identify any errors or inaccuracies that could be negatively impacting your score. You're entitled to a free credit report from each of the major credit bureaus—Equifax, Experian, and TransUnion—once every 12 months.

Avoid Closing Old Accounts

Closing old credit card accounts can shorten your credit history and reduce your overall available credit, both of which can lower your credit score. Unless the account carries high fees or you're unable to manage it responsibly, consider keeping it open.

Conclusion:

Through disciplined financial habits and strategic planning, I achieved and maintained a high credit score. This journey is only the beginning of my commitment to financial responsibility. For more insights on financial literacy, be sure to check out my other posts. Remember, with dedication and planning, anyone can achieve their financial goals

Until we talk again !

Chichi

[recklessmark]

naughty girl’s lesson

Summary: you made a stupid purchase on Mark’s credit card and he clearly was not happy about it.

Pairing: hard dom!Mark x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Words count: ~7k

Smut warnings: it’s me again, you know what’s coming... this is pure filth-smut-porn, whatever, you name it. if you’re not familiar with my blog/content, please be mentally prepared before you dip this. (sex tape, food play, spanking, unprotected sex, a lot of name calling, public humiliation...)

A/N: this is fictional and within the context of an ongoing relationship based on respect, trust, and consent. enjoy your kink responsibly.

Knowing Mark’d had a long and exhausting week at work, you carefully planned a Friday night dinner to cook for him. When he got home, you had food on the stove filling the house with delicious scents of the meal to come. Dressed in a low-cut top and a tight miniskirt, you greeted him with a fresh tumbler of whiskey - two rocks, just the way he liked it.

Kissing you, he squeezed your ass and nuzzled your neck.

“Everything smells amazing,” Mark murmured. “Especially you.”

Leading him to the couch, you sat him down and handed over his drink. “I want you to sit right here and relax while I finish dinner,” you said.

“Mmm, yes, ma'am,” he readily agreed.

Handing him the TV remote and a small stack of mail, you returned to your work in the adjoining kitchen. After a few uneventful minutes, Mark addressed you from across the room.

“Baby? What’s this on the credit card bill?” He asked.

You froze, wracking your brain for what kind of trouble you’d gotten yourself into. Drifting toward him, you dried your hands on a dish towel and shrugged.

“I can’t think of anything-”

“Naughty Secretary Nights… Did you buy porn with our credit card?”

Your eyes went wide. “I, um…”

He laughed. “Oh my god, you did, didn’t you? You are unbelievable.”

“It was on that business trip… I was so lonely, and I wasn’t getting service on my phone… and I just… charged it to the room… I forgot, I’m so sorry. I meant to pay it off right away...” the more you tried to defend yourself, the more ridiculous you sounded. Who puts porn on a credit card? You knew better, obviously. But after a week without him and the better part of a bottle of Chardonnay… your ability to make sound decisions had clearly been impaired.

“Come here,” he instructed. As soon as you obeyed, he told you to turn around. “Lift up your skirt.”

You did as you were told, exposing your tiny, black thong and bare ass cheeks to him.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

His spankings made you gasp and lurch forward. You did your best to right yourself and stand still, taking your punishment.

Smack. Smack.

“Such a naughty, dirty girl,” Mark chastised.

Smack. Smack.

“I-I know… I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Sorry for what?” He asked.

“...For being a n-naughty, d-dirty girl…” You stammered. Saying it out loud made you blush, but you knew it was true.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“That’s enough for now,” he declared, and you started to lower your skirt. “Ah, ah…” he admonished. “Did I tell you to cover yourself?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“That’s right. Because who owns this ass?” He teased, squeezing your exposed flesh.

“You…” you lowered your lashes, feeling the undeniable wetness between your legs. Whenever Mark manhandled you, you inevitably found yourself willing and eager to do anything and everything he wanted.

“Mmmhmm… and I own these, too.” Taking hold of your hips, he turned you to face him and yanked down the top of your t-shirt, revealing a black lace push-up bra. Sliding his fingers under the cups, he pinched and twisted your nipples, making you moan and squirm. “Isn’t that right?”

“Ooohhh… y-yes, that’s right…” you wanted to straddle him, to let him strip you naked and have his way with you… but you had other plans.

“And since you’re such a fan of dirty girl porn, I say you can stay just like this while you finish dinner.” And with that he took his hands away from you, settling back against the couch and turning on the TV.

Your breathing still ragged, you turned and headed back to the kitchen, with your clothes askew, leaving your bra and panties on display. In the kitchen, you realized the bay window curtain was wide open… Your house had a relatively high wall around it, but certain neighbors would still have a view inside from the right angle.

“Um… should I…?” You trailed off, looking to Mark and gesturing toward the window. He smirked, looking you up and down.

“Leave it open. I feel like showing you off. Let’s let the neighbors see what a naughty, indecent girl you are, shall we?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” You chewed your lip and got back to work. In your exposed state, in front of an open window, making dinner suddenly invoked a host of new sensations.

Every time you bent over, you wondered if one of your neighbors was getting an eyeful… When you stirred or chopped, making your breasts bounce and jiggle, you glanced nervously out the window. In the dark of night, you couldn’t tell whether or not there was anyone out there, enjoying the show.

When dinner was ready, you set the table and opened a bottle of wine. Standing before Mark in the living room, you clasped your hands behind your back and let him know it was time to eat.

Following you to the dining room, he sat down and let you pour his wine, lightly caressing your cleavage while you served him. As you stood up, he looked you over, considering your disheveled state.

“Strip down to your lingerie,” he instructed.

With a small whimper, you obliged him, peeling off your skirt and top. Standing before him in your thong and push-up bra, you awaited further direction.

“You may finish serving me just like that, then I want you to go and fetch your robe.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You did as you were told, carefully scooping servings of each dish onto his plate. When you bent over, your breasts threatened to spill out of your bra. At one point he stopped you, ordering you to hold still. Taking out his phone, he snapped a picture of your tits hovering over his dinner plate.

“I should post this online, since you love porn so much,” he mused, showing you the photo. “We can make a naughty, salacious gallery of you and charge people to ogle your naked body. Would you like that, dirty girl? Whoring yourself out for money?”

A flush of embarrassment and desire crept up your neck to your cheeks. “I, um… Only if you wanted me to… You’re the boss,” you answered.

He smiled and held up his phone.

“Say that again,” he commanded.

“I… would only… w-whore myself out for money… if you wanted me to. You’re the boss,” you stumbled over your words as you realized he was filming you.

“I am the boss,” Mark repeated. Reaching up, he pulled down the cups of your bra until your naked breasts were fully exposed. Then he squeezed and fondled them, making you writhe and whimper under his touch. “I am the boss of this lewd, vulgar girl. You love flaunting your tits for me, don’t you, slut?”

The wetness between your legs was reaching a fever pitch. He very rarely used words like ‘slut’ and ‘tits’, so you knew you were in for a night of real torment.

“Y-yes, Sir… I love f-flaunting myself… just for you…” you confessed.

“Mmm… I know you do,” he replied, and put down his phone.

Leaving your naked tits on display, he sent you off to fetch your robe. You returned to the table with it still in hand, since he had not, after all, instructed you to put it on.

“You may wear your robe while we eat, but leave it open. I want you to stay warm, and I want to enjoy this pornographic picture,” he gestured to your mostly naked body with a smirk.

“Yes, Sir,” you agreed, and did as he instructed, putting your robe on and leaving it open when you sat down.

“Sit on the edge of your chair, and keep your knees apart,” Mark demanded. You obeyed at once, and the posture of your position thrust your tits forward. He reached over, pinching and twisting your nipples, one by one.

“You know why you’re being treated like this, don’t you?” He asked.

You nodded, squirming in your seat as he tormented you. “Yes… yes, Sir…”

“And why is that?”

“B-because I was v-very naughty… buying porn… with our credit card…” You whimpered and moaned, loving every second that he tortured your perky little nipples.

“That’s right,” he agreed. “And when you act like a naughty, dirty girl, I’m going to treat you like a naughty, dirty girl.”

“Ooohhhh… thank you… I-I know I d-deserve it…” You arched your back toward him, wanting more groping, more pinching, more fondling. Which is, of course, precisely when he stopped.

“Mmm… You may learn your lesson after all,” he speculated. “Now be a good girl and eat. For the rest of your punishment, you’ll need to keep your energy up.”

Catching your breath, you did as he said. He made light, fun conversation during the meal, but it was hard for you to focus. You kept wondering what he had in store for ‘the rest of your punishment…’

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. After dinner, Mark instructed you to fetch the gelato and whipped cream for dessert. At first, you didn’t think much of it; you just enjoyed some small bowls of the chocolate frozen treat topped with whipped cream. But then he told you to put the gelato away and leave the whipped cream.

“And I’ll take one more small tumbler of bourbon,” he stated.

You quickly delivered his drink, and before you could sit down again he told you to lean against the wall opposite him. Then he set up his phone so the screen faced you and started to record, giving you a clear view of everything he was filming.

“Take off your robe,” he ordered, and you obediently complied. “Now your thong,” he added, and you slid the flimsy fabric down to your ankles.

“Actually, you can leave them there,” he decided. “As a reminder that you’re learning your lesson - what happens to naughty, dirty girls like you.”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, abjectly lowering your lashes. You stood, waiting for his next directive, with your thong around your ankles and your bare tits propped up by your bra.

To your surprise, he approached you with the can of whipped cream. Squirting a hefty dollop onto each of your nipples, he finished with a third spray on top of your freshly waxed pussy.

“Grab your elbows behind your back,” he said, “and stay like that until I’m done with my bourbon.

“Yes, S-Sir…” you replied, carefully adjusting your arms so as not to disturb the portions of whipped cream.

While he sipped his drink and watched you, you stole glances at the phone screen, filming you in your vulnerable state. You tried not to squirm too much, biting your lip to remind yourself to hold still.

“More porn for us to sell,” Mark explained, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious, or if this was just another means of taunting you. “Every time you misbehave, we’ll make a new tutorial detailing your punishment and what you learned. Would you like that, slut?”

“If it’s what you want, Sir, then… yes, I would.” The more you settled into your dominant/submissive dynamic, the clearer it became that there was very little you would not do for him.

His drink finished, he came over to you and cupped one of your breasts with his hand. You obediently stood with your arms behind your back, since he hadn’t told you to change positions. As hard as it was to not cling to him, you gripped your elbows and held on tight as he began his delicious assault on your whipped-cream-dipped nipples.

Licking and nibbling and sucking, he used his hand to shimmy your breast back and forth under his mouth. It was your absolute favorite sensation, and you moaned with abandon as he savored one breast and then the other. In between breasts, he paused and stood back, leaving a clear view of your stripped, wanton body for the camera.

Mark leaned against the wall next to you, casually leering at your tawdry nakedness. “Are you learning your lesson, dirty girl?”

“Yes… yes, Sir…” you panted.

“And what is that?” He prompted.

“To, um… not buy porn? …With a credit card?” You offered.

He chuckled. “Yes, that’s step one.”

Then he dropped to his knees and held your hips steady. Slowly, with agonizing delicacy, he licked the whipped cream from between your legs. You instantly started to squirm, but he paused just long enough to instruct you to hold still. You did your best to follow orders while he worked you over into a veritable frenzy…

Carefully, he caressed the sides of your pussy with his tongue. Some of the cream slid down the inside of your thigh, and he followed it, using his mouth to scoop it up… Returning to the center between your legs, he spread your lips with his hand and meticulously cleaned every inch of you… When he came close to your clit, he stopped, making you cry out in anguish.

Smirking, he looked up at you. “Say please,” he commanded.

“Please… please…” you begged.

He sighed. “Be more specific.”

“Please… don’t stop…” You replied. “Please l-lick… lick my clit, please…”

“Interesting. And here I thought you would beg me to let you come. Very well, have it your way.”

And with that, he flicked his tongue over your clit ever so lightly, maybe half a dozen times… then he gave it one long, luxurious stroke with his tongue. You whimpered, cursing yourself inwardly for not having the presence of mind to beg for an orgasm. Clearly it was too late now.  

With his work complete, Mark stood up and examined his effect on you. You stood panting and aching for him, eager to show him that you could learn how to behave.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he ordered, and you complied at once.

Smack. Smack. Smack. This time between your legs.

“What’s the second part of your lesson, my insatiable, horny girl?”

Smack. Smack.

“Oohh… oww… umm… That if I act-” Smack. Smack. “Mm, oww… if I act like a naughty, dirty girl-” Smack. Smack. Smack. “...oww ow… then I’ll get treated l-like a naughty, dirty girl…”

“That’s right,” he affirmed. “Now turn around and stick your ass out for me. Let’s get some proper dirty girl spankings on video.”

You did as you were told, keeping your elbows grasped behind your back, and leaning your bare chest against the wall so you could thrust your bottom out the way he liked.

“Mmhmm…” he rubbed his hand over your ass cheeks, jiggling them back and forth. “Just like the sordid, vulgar girl you are…”

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

As you took your punishment, your mind swirled with thoughts of what he might have in store for you next.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Tidying up and doing dishes while naked?

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Maybe cleaning the windows naked, in full view of any curious neighbors?

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Next time you get horny and greedy, you’ll think twice about buying porn, won’t you?”

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Y-yes… ohh… oww… yes, Sir… I promise, I w-won’t do it ag-again…”

Your ass wriggled under his final, merciless blows.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Damn right you won’t.”

Walking over to the phone, he picked it up and brought it closer to you, running it up the length of your disheveled body until he reached your flushed, chastened face.

“What do you say when you get the punishment you deserve?” He challenged.

“Thank you, Sir… thank you for teaching me h-how to behave…” You replied, doing your best to look as contrite and remorseful as you felt.

“Good girl,” he praised, and your stomach flipped. “Now come with me.”

And with that, Mark turned off the recording and led you out of the dining room.

In the kitchen he stopped you and told you to take off your bra and step out of the panties that were still around your ankles. After complying with his instructions, you handed over your lingerie and followed him, stripped completely naked, into the bedroom.

“You’ll need a shower, since you’re a dirty, sticky mess,” he said. “When you’re done, you can put on the outfit I lay out for you.”

“Yes, Sir,” you agreed, heading into the shower like a contrite, obedient girl.

After soaping yourself up and washing thoroughly, you dried off, lotioned up, and came back into the bedroom to get dressed.

Laid out on the bed, you found the tiniest g-string you owned, a matching French sling, and a short, tight, dove gray dress. Based on his dress choice, you inferred you would be continuing to serve him at home, since he’d always deemed it “too slutty for public consumption.”

Slipping into the barely-there g-string, you adjusted it as best you could and then put on your bra. A French sling is designed to prop your tits up like they’re on a shelf, with your nipples left peeking out over the top. It’s about as naughty, slutty, and on display as a bra with any coverage can be.

Squeezing yourself into the dress, his reasoning behind the French sling was immediately evident. Your tormented nipples were hard and perky, making them plainly visible through the thin, stretchy fabric. Looking down, you noticed a pair of strappy black heels, which you dutifully put on and fastened around your ankles.

After touching up your hair and makeup, you finally emerged from the bedroom. Mark put down the magazine he was reading and appraised your appearance.

“Perfect,” he declared. Standing up, he draped a long cardigan over your shoulders. Your dress was so short, the hem of the sweater went right past it. “So you don’t get cold while we’re out.”

You stood rooted to the spot. “You want me to go out? Dressed like this?”

“Is that a problem?” He challenged you.

“N-no, Sir… I just, you’ve always said… this dress…”

“I know what I’ve said.”

“I… look like a…” you trailed off, realizing that was precisely the point.

“A prostitute? …A porn star?” He teased.

“Yes, Sir,” you agreed, lowering your gaze.

“Come on, my little sextoy.” Placing his hand on the small of your back, he ushered you out the door. “Time to let everyone see what a naughty piece of ass you are.”

The chill night air was just cold enough to ensure that your nipples would stay nice and hard, leaving them very much on display. The dress left so much of you visible, it felt a little like he was parading you around naked for everyone to ogle. It barely covered your ass, and your propped up tits were all but spilling over the low neckline…

The car ride over was relatively uneventful. He was clearly - and rightly - counting on the effect of sheer anticipation, leaving you to imagine what it would feel like to be in bar full of people dressed like a slutty hooker.

When you got there and walked in, you quickly assessed the small crowd. There were enough people there to make blending in possible, yet you couldn’t help but notice that pretty much everyone closest to you had some reaction to your attire.

A woman sitting next to her friend stifled a laugh, then pointed you out and the two started whispering and giggling. Next to them, a man tried not to look at you, while his wife made no effort to hide her disgust and judgement.

“It’s warm in here, don’t you think?” Mark asked you.

You nodded with a small shrug. “Pretty warm.”

“You probably don’t need the cardigan inside,” he replied, eliciting a small whimper from you as he slid the fabric off your shoulders.

Standing next to him, without the thin layer of coverage provided by your sweater, you were keenly aware of how short your dress was… how visible your nipples were… and how every person around you would be treated to a vivid picture of how you looked naked.

As he led you toward the bar, you now had a very clear idea of how it felt to be in a bar full of people dressed like a slutty hooker… It was absolutely mortifying. And you’d never been so turned on in all your life.

You found two bar stools, and as you sat at his side, you quickly crossed your legs. It was the only way to avoid flashing everyone in your immediate vicinity.

The bartender came over, and when she noticed your nipples she blatantly stared. Smirking, she looked up at you.

“Nice dress,” she said.

You bit your lip, blushing, and Mark gave you a slight nudge.

“She gave you a compliment,” he prompted.

“Thank you,” you offered, feeling more exposed than ever.

You vaguely heard him ordering a whiskey for himself and wine for you, but you were distracted by all the other people sitting around the bar. You tried to not pay attention, but you had to make sure you weren’t imagining things. It seemed like everyone was looking at you.

“Sit up straight,” you heard him say, and you did as you were told. “Shoulders back,” he teased, and you obeyed, pushing your tits out even further.

He tucked your hair behind your ears, murmuring low. “That’s a good girl… How does it feel, all these people staring and leering at you?”

“Um… It feels… embarrassing, and… um…” You were ashamed to admit the second part.

“And what else?” He prompted.

“...And, um… I’m also… really, really turned on…” you confessed, flushing as you spoke.

“Mmm… mhmm. That makes sense. A wanton, lustful girl like you. I bet you’re dripping wet, aren’t you?” He taunted you, knowing very well that it was true.

“Yes… yes, Sir,” you admitted. Glancing around, you got the irrational feeling that all of the people ogling you could suddenly tell just how wet and horny you was.

“There’s a pool table,” Mark pointed out, as if reading your mind. “Maybe I should make you play pool with me, so you’ll have to bend over and show everyone that soaked pussy of yours, too. Would you like that?”

“I, um… if it would please you, Sir.”

He rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip.

“I love it when you’re nothing but eager to please,” he praised. Leaning forward, he kissed you lightly, grazing your cleavage with his fingertips and peppering your exposed skin with goosebumps.

The bartender delivered your drinks, and for two rounds you talked of other things. While you talked, Mark casually caressed your bare legs, sometimes slipping dangerously close to the super short hem of your dress. You squirmed in your seat, fighting the urge to spread your legs for him right then and there.

After two glasses of wine, you needed to go to the ladies room. It wasn’t that far away, but you would have to walk past several tables and clusters of people to get there. You took the risk of asking Mark if you might be allowed to put your cardigan back on for the occasion.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What do you think?”

“Um… No?”

“Correct. And why not?”

“Because… I need to be reminded what happens… to naughty, dirty girls, like me. I need to learn my lesson.”

“That’s right. Now let me see you show off that slutty little body of yours for everyone in here,” he chided.

“Y-yes, Sir…”

In the bathroom, the only humiliation was when two drunk girls stepped up next to you at the sinks. You were moving slowly, not wanting any part of your body to escape from your dress.

“Wow,” one of them said, gaping at you. “Slut much?”

She and her friend burst out laughing. You tried to ignore them, but as they made their way to the door, the other girl chimed in.

“We should get a picture of her! Mike and Chris will never believe we saw a real-live hooker!”

They laughed again while she pulled out her phone and the other one called back to you.

“Smile, you’re on candid slut camera!”

There was nowhere to hide, and they were blocking the door. You’d started with your back to them and had to turn to dry your hands, so they probably got pictures of you at every angle. As they disappeared, laughing and calling you names, you realized they could do whatever they wanted with the pictures. Send them to their boyfriends, put them on the internet…

After enduring more leers and taunts on your way back to Mark, you told him what happened.

He sighed and shrugged. “If they were naked pictures of you, I wouldn’t allow it,” he promised. “But since you’re just mostly naked… I guess that’s what you deserve, isn’t it?”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Our tab is paid, and I’ve been sitting here wondering…” he mused, “should I make you flash someone? Or maybe hike up your skirt while we’re on our way out?”

You squeezed your legs together and wriggled on your stool, awaiting his verdict.

“But I decided I want the rest of you all for myself,” he declared, and you felt a subtle wave of relief. You would’ve done it for him of course… But full-on public exposure was unchartered territory, and you weren’t absolutely certain how you felt about it. You were happy to wait and find out another day.

All the same, Mark still led you out of the bar nice and slowly, with no cardigan to hide behind, giving the small crowd their last looks at your barely covered body.

In the car, you got your sweater back for the ride home. It provided more warmth than coverage, and he certainly took advantage of how laid bare you were willing to be for him.

Reaching over, he tugged down the neckline of your dress, exposing your propped-up tits and rock hard nipples. He worked his magic, pinching and tweaking them while you moaned and writhed in your seat.

“Turn towards me, dirty girl, I’m done sharing you. I don’t want anyone getting a glimpse of your naughty little nipples.”

You obliged, turning to face him, hiding your naked breasts from outside view. At the next stoplight, he made you hike up your skirt for you. When you did, slowly sliding the fabric the mere inches it took to expose yourself, he took hold of the front of your g-string.

“Did you enjoy our outing, naughty girl? Walking around barely dressed, showing off your slutty little body?”

He tugged your g-string upwards, pulling the fabric back and forth between your legs. You quivered with the exquisite ache of it. “Y-yes… oh, god… yes, Sir… I… I loved it…” You conceded.

“Of course you did… look at yourself.”

You took stock of the state you were in… tits on display, skirt hiked up exposing your ass and all your dripping wetness… squirming in the passenger seat of his car while he toyed with you.

“I-I know… I can’t help it…”

“I know you can’t.” Mark’s voice was laced with a teasing kind of pity that sent a thrill through you.

The light turned green, and he released his hold on you. Without instruction to do otherwise, you stayed in your naughty, exposed position. He once again treated you to the torments he’d been considering, and the thought of living out  his suggestions made you practically want to hump the seat…

“So, I figured there were a few options for finishing your lesson… I thought about taking you to the grocery store in that outfit, where there would be more people and brighter lights…” you let out a small whimper, but he just smirked and went on. “Then I thought about setting up my phone again, to record you getting yourself off right here in the car… like making your own little porno.” He offered brightly.

You bit your lip over a small, shameful smile.

“Yes,” he went on, “I thought you might enjoy that one a little too much. Wouldn’t you?”

You’d stopped at another red light, and he reached over to give your bare ass a few sharp smacks.

“Yes… oh… yes, Sir…” you plead.

“Obviously you’re desperate to come at this point, since you’re a dirty, naughty girl who not so secretly loves her punishments,” he admonished.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you apologized. “What can I do… to prove to you that I’m learning my lesson?”

“Hmm…” he considered. “I do have one possible idea, but I’m still thinking about it. For now, I think you should watch this. I remembered you already made your own porno today.”

Procuring his phone, he pulled up a video and handed it to you. It was the recording he’d made of you earlier in the evening, when he had you stripped almost naked and up against the wall.

You spent the rest of the car ride obediently watching as Mark covered parts of you in whipped cream and then took his time licking it off, savoring every moment. You were a little ashamed to see how often you stole glances at the camera, since he’d left it facing you. Especially while he was all too briefly going down on you. You kept looking at the screen, watching yourself struggle to hold still, while all you wanted to do was writhe under the agonizing pleasure of his touch…

“What do you think?” He asked.

“I… I keep looking at myself, on camera,” you answered.

“Of course you do. Your entire punishment came about today because you love porn so much, you decided to order some alone in your hotel room, and pay for it with a credit card. That makes you one horny, desperate girl, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir…” you agreed, knowing just how true it was. Your libido always got you into so much trouble. You could never get enough.

Mark pulled into your driveway, but after shutting off the car, he made no move to get out. The video of you starring in your own porn had ended, and he took his phone back from you.

Turning to face you more fully, the streetlight illuminated his irresistibly sexy profile. “Tell me what you did to yourself, in the hotel room. I want details,” he said.

“I, um… was laying on the bed… watching, um…”

“Naughty Secretary Nights?” He prompted.

“Yes…”

“And what exactly were you watching?”

“Um… a secretary mixed up some important files… and she um, her boss made her strip, and, um… bend over the desk… so she could be punished.”

“Of course… and how was she punished?”

“With, um… lots of spankings. And then, um, she had to beg, to be fucked…”

He smirked, reaching a casual hand across the space between you to gently graze your nipples.

“I bet you loved that, didn’t you?”

‘Y-yes… yes, Sir,” you admitted.

“And what were you doing, while the naughty secretary begged to be fucked?”

“I um, oh… um, I was on the bed, in my lingerie… then I pulled down my panties…”

“Were you on your back or on your stomach?”

“Um… on my stomach, so I could see the TV better…” you flushed with the shame of it, and he twisted each of your nipples.

“That sounds about right. So you pulled down your panties, and then what?”

“I… ohh… um, oh… I rubbed m-my clit… until I came… ohh, god…”

“And did you play with your nipples, too?”

“Ohh… y-yes, Sir,” you almost screamed, “but it j-just made me m-miss… y-you… oh god…”

“Uh-huh… I bet it did.” He pinched harder, making you moan and arch your back toward him. “And I bet you really want to be fucked right now, don’t you?”

‘Yes, oh god… yes…”

Chuckling, Mark used both hands to torment your aching nipples at the same time, rubbing and flicking and pinching just the way you liked it… loved it, craved it…

“Oh, come now. You know you’re going to have to beg,” he teased.

“Please…. Please, Sir… oh, god, please fuck me… please…”

“Mmm, I love the sound of that. Do it some more.”

“Please fuck me, please…. Oh, fuck, ohhh god… please… I’ll do… anything… ohhh…”

Releasing his hold on you, he sat back and watched you catch your breath, your tits still heaving from his exquisite torture.

“Good. Because I want you to walk from here to the porch, just like that.”

You whimpered, squirming in your seat. “W-with my cardigan on or off?”

“That’s a good question.” He pondered for a moment before answering. “I think you can leave it on, but when you get out of the car, don’t adjust it. If it falls on its own and covers your ass, that’s fine. But if it doesn’t, you leave that slutty little ass of yours on display for whoever happens to be looking, understood?”

You nodded, feeling ravenous from all of his excruciating and delicious provocations.

“Y-yes, Sir… Understood.”

“Good girl. And of course, you are under no circumstances allowed to wrap that sweater around you. No matter what, I want you to give our neighbors a good, long look at those indecent, bouncy, punished tits of yours.”

You lowered your lashes and nodded through your blushing. “Yes, Sir. Whatever you say.”

“That’s right. And maybe - if you can show me how good you are at following instructions - maybe once we’re inside I’ll fuck you.”

A small whimper escaped your lips as he climbed out of the car. You turned and followed suit, being extra careful not to adjust your clothing at all.

It was hardest when you stood completely upright, and your cardigan stayed propped up by your ass cheeks. It went against every instinct you had not to cover yourself, but with Mark standing on the porch watching your every move, you knew you had to do as he’d instructed.

Walking to the porch, you were more aware than ever before of which neighbors still had lights on. You did your best to keep your eyes on him, so you wouldn’t notice someone peeking out their window and lose your nerve.

As you reached the porch, your sweater finally slid down to cover your ass, but your relief was short lived.

“You can face the street while I unlock the door,” Mark said with a wicked glint in his eye.

Doing as you were told, you turned your body toward the street, putting yourself on full display under your porch light. Not only were your tits still spilling over the top of your French sling, but with your dress still hiked up around your waist, you realized you hadn’t been allowed to adjust your g-string, either. It was still tugged up between your pussy lips where Mark’d left it, so you were now showing off your most vulnerable parts of yourself for all to see.

And he certainly were taking his time with the door lock.

“Wouldn’t you know it… damn thing is sticking again,” he claimed, full of faux innocence.

You stood dutifully by his side, and just before he opened the door to let you in, you was mortified to spot a couple of figures in one of the lit windows across the street. You couldn’t tell who they were, but you sure knew what they saw…

Before you had time to process your embarrassment, Mark had you in the front hall with the door closed behind you. Shoving me you against the wall, he tore off your cardigan and grabbed your tits from behind.

“Is this what you want?” He taunted, playing with the wetness between your legs. “I want to hear you beg, slave. Tell me what a selfish, horny little slut you are.”

Whimpering, you craned your neck to loop at him. “P-please, Sir… Please, Master… Please let me come… I’ll do anything you want… Please… I-I’m a horny, desperate, selfish little s-slut… And I can’t get enough… Please…”

Satisfied, he led you to the couch. “Desperate, I like that ad-lib. It’s so true, you are a desperate little slut. 

“You see this big, comfortable couch?” He added. “Straddle the arm of it.”

Graciously, he took of your thong, then tied your wrist with it. Then he leaned down to you and said, “Let’s see how well you follow instructions. I want you to make yourself come, by humping this couch.” He smirked. “You know I just really love making naughty little sluts fuck my couch.”

You realized you’d been frozen. Not wanting to be further berated, you quickly set to work, humping the arm of the couch as you’d been instructed. As soon as you started thrusting your hips back and forth over the fabric, you couldn’t help but moan, it feels so good.

Mark stepped back and appraises your movements. “Yeah… This shouldn’t take long.” Squeezing one of your tits, he pinched your nipple. “Make sure to tell me when you come, slut.”

You’re mortified to see him go into the kitchen. You’re left there, humping the furniture, moaning and writhing all by myself. God… you really were a horny, desperate little slut…

As Mark assessed, it didn’t take you long to come. Obliging as ever, you followed instructions and cried out, arching your back. “I’m coming… Oh god… Yes… Fuck… I’m coming…”

It’s such a release. When you open your eyes, you’re startled to find him standing next to you, watching with amusement dancing in his eyes. Then he settled on the couch, adjusting you so you’re sitting with your back to him and your ass nestled against his groin.

Your mind wasn’t left to wander for long, as you’d taken Mark’s cue to start fondling and pinching your tits, making you squirm on his lap. You felt his hard cock under you, and it just made you squirm more… until he spanks you between your legs. “Hold still, slut.”

As far as words went, not much turned you on like that simple command. You did your best to still your body instantly, though you kept panting under his torment.

He then played with your wetness and it’s so hard not to move. Your panting got worse and turned into whimpers. He started spanking your cunt again, over and over. All you could do was to hold still and take it. Your tits were turning red from his molestation, and the wet smacking sounds of your spanked pussy were so loud you could all hear them over your cries of painful pleasure.

You felt his breath on your ear as he murmured, “You’re about to come, aren’t you, slut?”

“Y-yesss… Fuck… Yes, Sir…”

“Beg for it.”

“P-please, Sir… Please, may I c-come?”

Mark started spanking your pussy harder and faster, and when he did, your body was consumed by the orgasm that courses through you. You couldn’t help it, you arched your back and moan, thanking him for getting you off. “Good girl,” he says reassuringly and stops touching you once he could tell you’re coming down. He wiped his wet hand across your face, making sure to smear cum across your forehead, cheeks, lips, and neck.

“You’d want to hold on now because you’re about to get fucked like a nasty slut you are.” He breathed into your ear while undoing his fly.

You gripped the far side of the couch with both of your hands and as soon as you did, he thrust into you so hard you shouted. "Oh!"

His hands gripped onto your hips and his cock started pounding you. It was hard and hot, almost felt like your insides were burning. But you liked it. You’d always liked how Mark felt, and how merciless he fucked.

"Mark, oh...fuck," you moaned so quietly you could barely hear it. Still, the sound of his own name coming out of your mouth while he pumped his cock deep into your cunt made his breath quicken.

He gave each of your ass cheek a rough slap, teeth nibbing on your earlobe. “You love being fucked like this, yeah? Like a filthy whore that deserves to get all of her holes filled with come.” The third and fourth smack landed and he breathed out a ‘fuck’ when your skin reddened even more.

You started to clench inside, and orgasm building. "Can I come...please?"

Mark looked down at you. The skirt bunched over your waist, bare assed, tits crushed against his chest, your hair was a wild mess. He grinned, almost condescending. “Yeah, you’re gonna come again? Fuck, go on, slut. Cream my cock.”

Heat crashed you right then and there. Your entire body giving up from the orgasms you’d had. Mark was close, his hip pistoned into you with a maddening speed. And he saw you, mouth open, eyes rolling back, panting, utterly undone, ropes of hot come splashed on your walls. He grunted, biting down on your shoulder while chasing his high. 

You felt it, felt him tightened, his balls contracting even more. His cock thickened, swelled, stretched you even more, and you started to fall into overstimulation - bucking, gasping, pushing hard back against him.

He finished with several more strokes, and laid over you, breathing hard. “I really hope you’ve learnt your lesson, baby.” He smiled slightly, brushing hair away from your face and placed a kiss on your swollen lips.

©️  RECKLESSMARK. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[beltaguise]

My Cat Died and All I Got was Thousands of Dollars in Vet Bills

Let's just say I nearly maxed out a couple credit cards and took out..uh...more then one loan just to find out he had incurable cancer. Seeing as I'd like to not drown under interest payments (somehow my loan is LESS predatory then my credit cards), I'm open for commissions again!

I need around $900 to finish paying off the credit cards. Once that's done the actual loan payments will be much more manageable.

Will Do:

Creatures/monsters

animals/pets

humans

some nsfw

All prices are in CAD. Message me for a spot or buy it through my Ko-Fi.

I've also lowered prices in my Ko-Fi shop! Get yer stickers and books here!

[robertreich]

The Biggest Economic Lies We’re Told

In America, it’s expensive just to be alive.

And with inflation being driven by price gouging corporations, it’s only getting more expensive for regular Americans who don’t have any more money to spend.

Just look at how Big Oil is raking it in while you pay through the nose at the pump.

That’s on top of the average price of a new non-luxury car — which is now over $44,000. Even accounting for inflation, this is way higher than the average cost when I bought my first car — it’s probably in a museum by now.

Even worse, the median price for a house is now over $440,000. Compare that to 1972, when it was under $200,000.

Work a full-time minimum wage job? You won’t be able to afford rent on a one-bedroom apartment just about anywhere in the U.S.

And when you get back after a long day of work, you’ll likely be met with bills up the wazoo for doctor visits, student loans, and utilities.

So what’s left of a paycheck after basic living expenses? Not much.

You can only reduce spending on food, housing, and other basic necessities so much. Want to try covering the rest of your monthly costs with a credit card? Well now that’s more expensive too, with the Fed continuing to hike interest rates.

All of this comes back to how we measure a successful economy.

What good are more jobs if those jobs barely pay enough to live on?

Over one-third of full time jobs don’t pay enough to cover a basic family budget.

And what good are lots of jobs if they cause so much stress and take up so much time that our lives are miserable?

And don’t tell me a good economy is measured by a roaring stock market if the richest 10 percent of Americans own more than 80 percent of it.

And what good is a large Gross Domestic Product if more and more of the total economy is going to the richest one-tenth of one percent?  

What good is economic growth if the way we grow depends on fossil fuels that cause a climate crisis?

These standard measures – jobs, the stock market, the GDP – don’t show how our economy is really doing, who is doing well, or the quality of our lives.

People who sit at their kitchen tables at night wondering how they’re going to pay the bills don’t say to themselves

“Well, at least corporate profits are at record levels.”

In fact, corporations have record profits and CEOs are paid so much because they’re squeezing more output from workers but paying lower wages. Over the past 40 years, productivity has grown 3.5x as fast as hourly pay.

At the same time, corporations are driving up the costs of everyday items people need.

Because corporations are monopolizing their markets, they don’t have to worry about competitors. A few giant corporations can easily coordinate price hikes and enjoy bigger profits.

Just four firms control 85% of all beef, 66% of all pork, and 54% of all poultry production.

Firms like Tyson have seen their profit margins skyrocket as they jack up prices higher than their costs — forcing consumers who are already stretched thin to pay even more.

It’s not just meat. Weak antitrust enforcement has allowed companies to become powerful enough to raise their prices across the entire food industry.

It’s the same story with household goods. Giant companies like Procter & Gamble blame their price hikes on increased costs – but their profit margins have soared to 25%. Hello? They care more about their bottom line than your bottom, that’s for sure.

Meanwhile, parents – and even grandparents like me – are STILL struggling to feed their babies because of a national formula shortage. Why? Largely because the three companies who control the entire formula industry would rather pump money into stock buybacks than quality control at their factories.

Traditionally, our economy’s health is measured by the unemployment rate. Job growth. The stock market. Overall economic growth. But these don’t reflect the everyday, “kitchen table economics” that affect our lives the most.

These measures don’t show the real economy.

Instead of looking just at the number of jobs, we need to look at the income earned from those jobs. And not the average income.

People at the top always bring up the average.

If Jeff Bezos walked into a bar with 140 other people, the average wealth of each person would be over a billion dollars.

No, look at the median income – half above, half below.

And make sure it accounts for inflation – real purchasing power.

Over the last few decades, the real median income has barely budged. This isn’t economic success.

It's economic failure, with a capital F.

And instead of looking at the stock market or the GDP we need to look at who owns what – where the wealth really is.

Over the last forty years, wealth has concentrated more and more at the very top. Look at this;

This is a problem, folks. Because with wealth comes political power.

Forget trickle-down economics. It’s trickle on.

And instead of looking just at economic growth, we also need to look at what that growth is costing us – subtract the costs of the climate crisis, the costs of bad health, the costs of no paid leave, and all the stresses on our lives that economic growth is demanding.

We need to look at the quality of our lives – all our lives. How many of us are adequately housed and clothed and fed. How many of our kids are getting a good education. How many of us live in safety – or in fear.

You want to measure economic success? Go to the kitchen tables of America.