#move out cleaning services cost

[dwmoveoutcleaning]

DW Move Out Cleaning Singapore

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1090 Lower Delta Road #04-06G, Singapore 169201

[360infotechreview]

Pre-event cleaning services are a crucial component of event preparation, helping to ensure that the venue is spotless and presentable for guests. By hiring a professional cleaning company, you can focus on other aspects of event preparation, secure in the knowledge that the venue is in good hands. With special event cleaning services, you can be confident that your event will get off to a great start and leave a lasting impression on your guests.

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #28

July 19-26 2024

The EPA announced the award of $4.3 billion in Climate Pollution Reduction Grants. The grants support community-driven solutions to fight climate change, and accelerate America’s clean energy transition. The grants will go to 25 projects across 30 states, and one tribal community. When combined the projects will reduce greenhouse gas pollution by as much as 971 million metric tons of CO2, roughly the output of 5 million American homes over 25 years. Major projects include $396 million for Pennsylvania’s Department of Environmental Protection as it tries to curb greenhouse gas emissions from industrial production, and $500 million for transportation and freight decarbonization at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.

The Biden-Harris Administration announced a plan to phase out the federal government's use of single use plastics. The plan calls for the federal government to stop using single use plastics in food service operations, events, and packaging by 2027, and from all federal operations by 2035. The US government is the single largest employer in the country and the world’s largest purchaser of goods and services. Its move away from plastics will redefine the global market.

The White House hosted a summit on super pollutants with the goals of better measuring them and dramatically reducing them. Roughly half of today's climate change is caused by so called super pollutants, methane, hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), and nitrous oxide (N2O). Public-private partnerships between NOAA and United Airlines, The State Department and NASA, and the non-profit Carbon Mapper Coalition will all help collect important data on these pollutants. While private firms announced with the White House plans that by early next year will reduce overall U.S. industrial emissions of nitrous oxide by over 50% from 2020 numbers. The summit also highlighted the EPA's new rule to reduce methane from oil and gas by 80%.

The EPA announced $325 million in grants for climate justice. The Community Change Grants Program, powered by President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act will ultimately bring $2 billion dollars to disadvantaged communities and help them combat climate change. Some of the projects funded in this first round of grant were: $20 million for Midwest Tribal Energy Resources Association, which will help weatherize and energy efficiency upgrade homes for 35 tribes in Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, $14 million to install onsite wastewater treatment systems throughout 17 Black Belt counties in Alabama, and $14 million to urban forestry, expanding tree canopy in Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.

The Department of Interior approved 3 new solar projects on public land. The 3 projects, two in Nevada and one in Arizona, once finished could generate enough to power 2 million homes. This comes on top of DoI already having beaten its goal of 25 gigawatts of clean energy projects by the end of 2025, in April 2024. This is all part of President Biden’s goal of creating a carbon pollution-free power sector by 2035. 

Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen pledged $667 million to global Pandemic Fund. The fund set up in 2022 seeks to support Pandemic prevention, and readiness in low income nations who can't do it on their own. At the G20 meeting Yellen pushed other nations of the 20 largest economies to double their pledges to the $2 billion dollar fund. Yellen highlighted the importance of the fund by saying "President Biden and I believe that a fully-resourced Pandemic Fund will enable us to better prevent, prepare for, and respond to pandemics – protecting Americans and people around the world from the devastating human and economic costs of infectious disease threats,"

The Departments of the Interior and Commerce today announced a $240 million investment in tribal fisheries in the Pacific Northwest. This is in line with an Executive Order President Biden signed in 2023 during the White House Tribal Nations Summit to mpower Tribal sovereignty and self-determination. An initial $54 million for hatchery maintenance and modernization will be made available for 27 tribes in Alaska, Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. The rest will be invested in longer term fishery projects in the coming years.

The IRS announced that thanks to funding from President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act, it'll be able to digitize much of its operations. This means tax payers will be able to retrieve all their tax related information from one source, including Wage & Income, Account, Record of Account, and Return transcripts, using on-line Individual Online Account.

The IRS also announced that New Jersey will be joining the direct file program in 2025. The direct file program ran as a pilot in 12 states in 2024, allowing tax-payers in those states to file simple tax returns using a free online filing tool directly with the IRS. In 2024 140,000 Americans were able to file this way, they collectively saved $5.6 million in tax preparation fees, claiming $90 million in returns. The average American spends $270 and 13 hours filing their taxes. More than a million people in New Jersey alone will qualify for direct file next year. Oregon opted to join last month. Republicans in Congress lead by Congressmen Adrian Smith of Nebraska and Chuck Edwards of North Carolina have put forward legislation to do away with direct file.

Bonus: American law enforcement arrested co-founder of the Sinaloa Cartel, Ismael "El Mayo" Zambada. El Mayo co-founded the cartel in the 1980s along side Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán. Since El Chapo's incarceration in the United States in 2019, El Mayo has been sole head of the Sinaloa Cartel. Authorities also arrested El Chapo's son, Joaquin Guzman Lopez. The Sinaloa Cartel has been a major player in the cross border drug trade, and has often used extreme violence to further their aims.

[moondirti]

cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

[next]

[lilacstro]

Astro observations part 14

Well, the result of my poll clearly said for this and waiting for it to end would make no difference I know haha, so here we go with part 14 :)

people with planets in subconscious houses(4/8/12) in water signs or even having planets in all of them or at least 2 could be really emotionally receptive, and may feel overwhelming emotions, sometimes being unable to manage this tsunami and moodiness that can manifest can even cause mental troubles

Girls having an afflicted moon/mars placement, or moon or mars in harsh aspects can experience hormonal/menstrual problems some point in life

One of the best friendships happen when your moon sign matches someone's sun sign and vice versa

women with 5th house Leo/Aries/Sun/Mars could be really protective around their children

For girls who say "I always cry on my birthday" or "my birthday month is my worst" could actually have sun transition into their 8th/12th house at the time of their birthday month. I can make a post on how your birthday month could be for you, let me know if you guys want to read.

I often tell my clients and I have seen it myself, people with strong Jupiter in their chart are the ones that go through a lot of hard times, the lesson here is to maintain that unwavering faith and optimistic mindset and move forward, it is not until then that you have learnt, Jupiter starts to bless you :)

people with ruler of 4th in 10th could actually struggle with having their secrets be their secrets in life, it would just somehow come out to people, not exactly fully exposed but people would know something is up.

planets in your 4th house can in fact tell you what you may like to keep hidden, for example having NN in 4th may not really like sharing my goals or plans with people.

ok so I recently saw some celebrity's newborn's natal chart, and I saw Mars conjunct Uranus in the second, and it just speaks to me that somewhere in this life, this baby gonna want to spend money like crazily-excessively and he would rebel otherwise, this sure can turn into many more mature things with time, but that impulsivity with money seems something that he needs to look after

Mercury in Leo people are actually so unafraid lmao, they can deliver the most obviously wrong facts with full confidence and when you confront them, well you cannot actually. But they can make excellent journalists, debaters, politicians etc.

People with 6th/8th/12th house placements or any of these houses in Virgo/Libra risings should be very aware of who they are entertaining. These kinds of people are actually really giving by nature but they need to be sure that people are not blantly "expecting" them/ latching onto them just for getting what they want.

6th house- literal service, cooking, cleaning, looking after them in tough times

8th house- to change them for their good at the cost of draining yourself

12th house- to mentally elevate or spiritually enlighten someone on the right path

I think it is not very talked about and a very underrated thing but Neptune in 2nd house people can be really intuitive, things they say may come true but they would not have enough confidence to speak it out or believe it themselves is one thing. Can make really good psychic/tarot readers and even astrologers.

Venus in 12th house people may attract situations where they can unknowingly want to keep their relationship/friendships private BUT please for god's sake, talk about it to other people, since to me this translates as an isolated Venus and the chances of being manipulated run high and you probably would not even know.

People who can have their comments get a lot of likes or want to comment out of desire can have Mercury in 11th, but please note Mercury and the 11th should most likely be in fire or air signs, water and earth can rather keep their opinions to themselves.

Speaking of which if you have Mercury-Mars placement in 11th, you are very likely to be someone who fights for what they like, be unafraid of arguing or putting out your comment on internet, for example: fighting that your fav artist is right or this song is being hated on for no reason etc.

You may often find yourself contradicting between the life choices of your North Node and South Node house/Signs. For example, someone with NN in 4th and SN in 10th would want to think "ok I wanna marry young, have kids and look after my kids", OR sometimes think "no not at all I will be an unmarried childless girlboss living her life in 30s", it is likely that it is not in between OR it can be, "well how will I manage this desire to have a successful career and be a mother at the same time idk"

People with Sun/Saturn and Neptune in harsh aspects could have father struggling with substances, or maybe dogmatism or have some kind of un real ideals, may feel very hard to impress, yet you would probably still in some want to get his validation which rather seems impossible because of how out of the world and unrealistic it could be.

Wherever Juno sits in your chart can show what can change in your life most when you meet your spouse or most significant other, for example people with Juno in 11th, would change what they usually prayed or wished for, their friends and social life. Juno in 9th may become more philosophical or open to higher education. Can make another post on this one

Speaking of which, Juno can also give clues on how your future spouse could be, it is like a tarot kind of description, not everything would be accurate but some of it sure would be. For example, Juno in 11th could have spouse who works on Internet or through Internet, could have Aquarian traits of having strong, different opinions, BIG hopes and dreams, etc. Can make a post on this one again lmao

paid readings open

support me on ko-fi :)

well that is it for today, send your post suggestions from above or anything else you wanna see:)

i love you all <3

[vaspider]

Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."

You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.

It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.

But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.

And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...

So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.

Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:

The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.

More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.

Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.

There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.

There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.

Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.

There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.

Further reading/sources:

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

update on my housing situation ~

With the end of summer swift approaching, I've been looking forward hopefully to moving in with a relative who lives about an hour away. I would've been able to transfer to a nearby Walmart, and my expenses for rent would be less than half of the cost of what I'm paying to stay at budget motels. Those plans are delayed indefinitely as, fortunately for her, she's had some relief for the osteoarthritis pain she suffers and has returned to work full-time. For now, she can manage her mortgage without needing additional income from renting to me (although she's unable to maintain her property, clean or even vacuum, which would've been my responsibilities). She also wants to keep her spare room available for her daughter, who's been having trouble meeting her rent for an apartment she shares with her boyfriend in the Bronx. As a result, I remain homeless...for now.

so I'm gonna have to ask for help again...

I've gotten through August better than usual; I'm glad to share that it's been over a month since I've needed to make a post like this. However, between my continued cut in hours (even as the service desk remains chronically understaffed) and a hike of about 20% in local room rates (I usually save about 15%/night by paying weekly), I'm in need of help. I'd like to try to raise $450 - &500 for the month of September, with my immediate need of $200 to manage next week's lodging. As ever, I know that I've been very blessed to receive the friendship and generosity of this community, and I send out my heartfelt gratitude for donations of any size, and to those who reblog this to help boost my plea. Thank you for any manner of help you can provide!

$0/$200

$0/$500

[sl-walker]

Boldly Writing is going to hopefully be the nonprofit for indie archives; the ultimate plan is to give us an umbrella org that lets donations to our archives, etc. be tax-deductible, allows us to access a lot of services for free or reduced cost through the org and otherwise lets us move forward with championing the causes of more independent and decentralized fan communities while still providing the social networking and cohesion of a single community over all.

My ultimate vision is to expand and clean up our documentation for installing/running otw-archive, offering tech support for new instances of the software (and ourchive when it releases!), eventually culminating in server space we can offer similar to Walter at Squidge.org. Walter's been carrying a lot of the non-OTW side of the fandom on his shoulders for a long time as we've lost more and more independent commuities; another org working in tandem with Squidge (and indeed OTW!) would only be good for fandom.

Boldly Writing is a non-membership model nonprofit, but you're more than welcome to be a part of the organization via volunteering. Right now, we're possibly looking for a fifth board member -- or more! We can have several! -- for fiscal year 2025. A board member's main responsibilities are just to show up for the four annual meetings required by us, propose and/or vote on resolutions and bylaws and whatnot, and otherwise support the org. Terms are three years. If you're interested in this, you have to be a US citizen and over 18, but that's basically it.

Other things, like committees and assignments, are next on our agenda. (Those can be a lot of fun, too!) Currently, our Boldly Writing discussion takes place on Ad Astra's server, though we might eventually make a new one for the org.

Scroll to the Boldly Writing category for our unofficial first meeting minutes and any org discussion. If you wanna be our fifth board member, hit me up!

[ladystarksneedle]

The eye of awe

Aemond x maid reader

Summary: A maid at the Keep relishes in the sweetness of gratitude.

Word count: 1.2k

Dividers by @saradika

Next>

She hears the familiar clang of steel as she passes through the courtyard, wicker basket in hand daring to glance at the flash of silver dancing in the sun. He moves with the fluidity of men from myth, of childhood tales told by mothers of the Realm willing their meddlesome children to bed. Stories of agile and fearsome warriors fighting to save kingdoms of might and maidens of beauty, slender and graceful with their arms and legs, dancing to tunes of mystery. She finds him to have both, equal parts grace and ferocity as he dodges another blow before his blade lands against his opponent's throat. As the crowd erupts in applause she ducks under the archway leading indoors. Just like her childhood, her escape for the day is at its end and her eyes wide open to the life ahead.

Work at the Red Keep is equal parts arduous as it is rewarding. Despite her young age, she's been promoted from a scullery maid to working in service to the one eyed prince himself. She assists him daily, organizing his clothes, tidying his chambers, ordering his baths, serving his meals and above all making sure the order he has in place is never disrupted.

“Chaos is only tackled well on the battlefield” he'd said to her when she was brought to him “I do not expect an ounce near me. Should I find you lacking, you'll be sent away before you can make your apologies.”

His return to his chambers is angrier than usual. His bath lies ready at his disposal, his clothes laid out meticulously on the bed. A linen tunic, leather surcoat and coat, linen breeches, trousers of wool and two leather belts lined with gold are arranged in that order, all in shades of ivory, black and brown, adorned with the familiar three headed dragon glinting in gold ready to greet him once he finishes. The only piece of cloth that remains askew is his eyepatch discarded on the dresser in haste, as she stands waiting outside, unwilling to initiate change.

It is the only one he wears rather religiously despite its condition. It is whispered by the maids in passing, that it was Princess Helaena who made it for him, ever since he lost his eye at ten, the dreaded incident never spoken of lest one incur his wrath. It is said that the wound itself was inflicted by a lad of eight, his own nephew, for a purpose widely disputed by all she's heard from. She finds the whole thing rather nasty, a cruel punishment or perhaps an unfair trial from the Gods. The others think it rather fitting for a man so cruel to be felled in such a way, yet she finds it akin to being cursed, for him to be so beautiful yet troubled. Despite his harshness and cold gaze, he's been nothing but courteous to her which is the most she can expect from any master she serves and is far better than one with grabby hands and wayward eyes. He's expectant and demanding, yet acknowledges a task well done. Perhaps it is his look of quiet praise on a hard day that carries her to the markets at noon, skipping her meal with ease. The leather she requires has been borrowed from scraps cleaned at the dressmaker’s, earning her a bewildered gaze and an equally prompt dismissal. The clasp she looks for however, costs a silver dragon. It is a lot, nearly half of her earnings yet she parts with them willingly. The gold ornament burns her palms as she heads back in time to resume her duties, a thrilled smile on her face.

She's been taught how to sew since she was a child, enough to be able to fix a hole, a gape or tear in both tunic and chemise alike.

She has fixed her father's breeches after a hard day's work and her brothers’ after they'd torn theirs running through the crowded streets of King's landing. Even stitching a wound comes easy to her now, having learned how to do so, after a shoddy job a few moons back, when coin had run dry to turn to the local healer. She smiles to herself as she pulls the threads through the leather at hand. It is brown enough to hide the gaps in her work and though it isn't as fine as the embroidery of a lady she's satisfied with it nonetheless. She stares at her little contraption in awe as she finishes in time. It has a single strap running across its breath held together by a gold button she'd found lying on the floor. On its side she's opted for a sturdier one with the golden clasp holding it all together behind, a single flame for the prince she serves, the closest she'll ever come to the might of the dragon.

There's a feast to be held tonight, in honor of his nameday. Guests from all over the Realm have arrived and as the Keep buzzes with excitement of the festivities at dusk and she finds it hard to contain her own delight. There is much work to be done before she can part with her surprise. She tends to him soon, dressing him for dinner in leathers of green and black, clasping the familiar worn out strap as he leaves grumbling. It is hours later when she sees him again as she's summoned by the familiar ring of the bell in her quarters. She creeps to his room in trepidation, hands clasped behind her back as she greets and readies him for bed, her gift heavy in her pocket. As he turns to dismiss her she looks at him shyly

“If you don't mind me saying, I'd like to wish you a happy nameday my prince”

He nods in response, humming as he makes his way to the fireplace, seating himself as he stares ahead.

“I have something for you” she continues moving towards him as he looks up “It isn't much but a mere token of my gratitude” she says extending her hand. “Thank you, for everything” she continues, stopping as she looks at him. He takes the leather in his hand, turning it over in silence.

When she was a child her mother had taken her to see her aunt. It was the first trip she'd taken outside the capital to visit a dying woman and provide her comfort. As they'd returned she'd shown her the sky, full of stars at night, bright and beautiful away from the haze of the city.

“Your aunt's up there now girl, watching over you just as I'll be someday” she'd said pointing to the drops of light adorning the skies.

His eye runs over the gold in hand, flame fitting into his palm like it belongs, shining like the stars of a forgotten past.

“Come, help me wear it” he remarks as he leans back.

As she clasps it in place and curtsies, she’s lost to dreams of silver chased with a flame of gold.

Clashes of steel greet her the next morn, a flame of gold glinting in the sun. Her dreams don't end with the battle at hand anymore, for the mighty warrior now carries a part of the maiden with him and she's content to hold his gaze just a little longer.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[hockpock]

Glasses Review - Firmoo

Hello vision impaired friends, I bring you the gospel of Ordering Your Damn Glasses Online

I have previously ordered from EyeBuyDirect (luxotica/lenscrafters'/America's Best in disguise, sorry.) and Zenni Optical ( most well known online provider, A+ would recommend) and have seen lots of ads for free pairs from a competitor, Firmoo. I have too much prescription for the free pair offers to ever work out from ANY provider, but their fun designs put them on my list.

When my current glasses broke, I was dinking around and saw their current promotion is Buy One Get One Free PLUS 20% off lenses and as lenses are the real $$$ I jumped on that like tigger on crack. I am VERY nearsighted with astigmatism and the average pair of glasses from lenscrafters used to cost me $300 minimum.

After much deliberation with a million tabs open and a poll I ignored the results of for Reasons, I ordered a pair of clear frames and a pair of purple steampunk-y wireframes . Two pairs of HIGH PRESCRIPTION glasses for $87 shipped. I could cry, y'all.

Note: I have an up to date prescription and a nifty app that measures Pupillary Distance or 'PD'. you will need both these things accurate to have the best experience buying your glasses online.

I ordered them 9/22, they shipped 9/25, I received them 9/29 with regular shipping. They came well packed - each pair was in a bag made of cleaning cloth material inside a sturdy plastic case and they come in a foil bubble mailer.

Both pairs feel well made, with lots of attention to detail-

however I did not pay attention to detail or pay extra money for the Re-he-heaaallly thin lenses. So the clear ones are slightly too big and I hate the way the nose pieces sit, while the purple ones are a wee bit small across the temple and heavy to boot. I haven't had dents in my nose like this since I was 12.

the website lists their exchange policy as 30 days, the pamphlet that came with the glasses says 60. Either way it was pretty painless to go into my order history and select "exchange". The form I filled out with my reasons for dissatisfaction promised me I would be contacted within 24 hours.

My 'personal Firmoo consultant', 'Karen', emailed me with a code for the full price before discount of both pairs + standard shipping, as well as the usual customer service canned answers about checking the sizing information and did I know I could upgrade the lenses?

Also I could keep the failed pairs 'FOR NOW', here are some places that accept glasses as donations. (mixed messages, Karen, but sweet!)

New friends are April006, round anodized wireframes with a cute dingly gem thing, and Sandy020 , literal tortoiseshell cat eye frames.

This time I used the site's search terms to cut the temple width and earpiece length options down and double checked the weight of the base frames. (14g vs 24g for the round wireframes before my coke-bottle lenses. RIP my nose. )

New order was placed 10/5 and they arrived 10/17 . (last time I checked the tracking estimated arrival had creeped from the 19th up to the 23rd so grain of salt. This may be a tactic to make the order feel like it got here faster or legit delays. In my case there was a federal holiday involved.)

Complete disclosure I'm gonna grab a pair of pliers and take the little dangly off the wireframes. It makes a noise when I move my head and if I don't fold the frames in the right order when I take them off it'll scratch up the lenses. I ain't gonna remember to avoid that, so off it goes.

The Good:

Large selection, Good Quality, Good Communication. Lots of Off the Beaten Path options for internet weirdos. Firmoo p much always has a promotion going.

My wallet is so happy. SO HAPPY. Frames run $20-30ish to start. lenses will vary with your prescription and options.

If y'all want 50% off your first frames and to give me a $10 credit they have a referral program and my code is T4Z8I2. BOGO20 is a better value but it expires 11/01/23.

The Bad:

Not flexible about lens options- you go down one track and pick your options within that. If there was a way to put tinting on a pair of glasses other than blue light blocking I couldn't find it. (in contrast I believe Zenni lets you choose a range of colors and tint depth on any pair, designed as sunnies or not)

You Will Get Emails. Firmoo REALLY wants you to buy more glasses and post about it and tell your friends and HERE THIS CODE IS ONLY GOOD FOR 3 DAYS, GO BUY NEW GLASSES. They are marketing themselves to fashionable young influencers who change styles every month. Unsubscribe with impunity.

like Zenni, this is a company with the majority of it's functionality based overseas. It's cheaper because you're ordering directly from a factory and not paying Luxotica's markups to itself. Customer service is mostly English as Second Language speakers and there may be delays.

Not For Emergencies. I was able to coast on a pair of glasses from a prescription or 2 ago but it's gonna take time for your order to be made and shipped.

Overall I'm very happy with them and will probably order again.

Next time I have spare money I'm aiming at Wherelight because y'all. they are next down on the list of reputable to shady AF but they have the most amazing WTF designs.

[the-sinister-story-teller]

Angel Dust x M!Reader Headcanons!

Mentions: Minor mention of intimacy, angst, mention of abuse, mentions of drug usage.

A/N: so, I made this because I had saw a post from someone on my recommended saying how there wasn't many Angel x M!Readers out there, so I thought it'd be funny to make one-!

Topic: What it'd be like dating Angel Dust.

So, at first, you initiated it. He was definitely thinking you'd want his "services", which wasn't the case. When he found out you wanted a genuine relationship, he was nervous but thrilled.

It started off a bit bumpy, but you both powered through it knowing it'd get better. It was only bumpy because Angel was still coping the abuse he endured, and it made things a bit more harder to do.

To say the least though, it quickly improved. You comforted him by waking him up with breakfast in bed, constant words of affirmation, ect. You adored him, and he returned the favor.

Safe to say, you were Fat Nuggets new dad. Angel made the lil joke of "Now he has two parents!"

He definitely loves to go shopping with you, and defends you at ALL cost.

"Don't worry babycakes! I got this, you just hold nuggs, ok?"

He loves it when your, in his words, chivalrous. Such as holding a door open, greeting him sweetly, ect. Pretty much anything sweet.

Proudly, he showed you to Arackniss, who...Safe to say, wasn't too happy but supported his little brother. He was a bit suspicious of you, that's all.

Since in hell you can't have kids, Fat Nuggets is your child, and you two dress him up CONSTANTLY!

Since you do so much for him, he returns the favor. He'll clean and organize your room, get you gifts, and cook for you! Sometimes, he'll even make cute lil videos of a fashion show with nuggets and him!

You three all wear little matching outfits and it's to die for-

He does get emotional late at night and seeks you out for comfort, crying from a nightmare about his abuse, or the fact of what he does with the drugs and everything. But you remind him that it doesn't change your perspective of him.

Overall, he loves you, and you love him. He'd move heaven and hell to stay with you<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope it's enjoyable! :D

[sachikatsutano]

Hi, I’m a housekeeper. I’ve seen plenty of nicely left rooms, and some utter messes that made me almost cry. For the most part, people are super well behaved and I thank you for that.

However, this job is really taxing. I enjoy it, but a lot of housekeepers are usually quite young or they are older, which can be a lot of pressure on them for health and mental reasons. I’ve had to start using braces on occasion.

It’s a difficult job no matter where you go- and one rule I live by is don’t do what I wouldn’t like to clean up. So here are some things you could try to do, and make a hard job a little easier. Please consider re-blogging this so that others can try to help out too!

STRIP LINEN It saves water, but also it saves time for us too if you strip the linen off anything you’ve touched and leave the stuff you haven’t alone. Towels can be reused, but I would leave a note for the housekeeper to alert them.

ROOM CLEANING Most hotels can offer room service, however, in my hotel this can be added on to 10 rooms already. If you don’t need it, please make it known at the front desk or leave a ‘do not disturb’ sign. If you really need it, make sure you move your stuff off what needs cleaning as we cannot touch it.

TIPS Optional, but after cleaning a room with four kids and yogurt in the tea and coffee bowl, it is nice to see a little tip. I personally will take sealed consumable items like soap or once, a whole box of tea. It’s not much, but it has knocked our toiletries cost way down.

BIG BINS If your bins are full, and you know you’re going to have more rubbish, ask for a large bin bag. We have those. You don’t have to break the rubbish bag because you needed to stuff it in.

CUPS, MUGS AND CUTLERY If you have taken food up to your room, if you have a drink from the bar or glass bottles, if you have dirty mugs- consider who has to take those back. If you have time take your things back to where they came from and try to reuse the mugs and cups.

AND FINALLY, KNOW THE CHECKOUT TIME In our hotel, final checkout time is 12. Please go to the front desk even if you have a card box outside your room, and try to be packed and leave as early as you can. I’ve had days where I have 6 rooms, but no one leaves until 12 and I end up working overtime to finish. Check in time is 3 for me, and having guests want rooms while you’re rushing to catch up can make me incredibly stressed.

These aren’t all going to be doable, or present, but please, please PLEASE consider doing one or more of these for us. Any housekeeper will tell you a clean room can make the last bad room seem far away.

Thank you for your consideration and kindness!

[sunlightmurdock]

Operation Apollo | 2.5 | Jake Seresin x reader

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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents

…

Five year olds rarely understand politics. The weaving webs of deceit — all for the greater good — it quite simply doesn’t match up to the daily right from wrong lessons that they’re receiving. It never made sense to you back then. But, five year olds also rarely understand chess, and yet, you did.

Sitting in your father’s study whilst he was still governor of that teeny tiny state, in that small seeming house that you barely remember these days, brows furrowed and lips pursed as he asked you if you understood the move you had just made.

Being quick to adapt was always one of your strong suits. Your daddy hadn’t wanted to play dress up and tea parties like the other girls’. So, you had learned to play chess. In tow, you had learned to understand politics. Each move had a consequence and so, had to be carefully thought out, just like in chess.

You sit now, in a different office, feeling very much just as small, and think of the three moves in which you have ruined Jake’s life. Truthfully, when you had kissed him for that first time on the couch a few months ago, you hadn’t been thinking of where it would land him. You had thought about it before that, toying with the idea of having him do something to get him fired.

But, when it had come down to it, all that you’d really wanted was for him to be around all of the time. He had been so kind to you that night, and you had wanted that feeling to last forever.

That had been the first move, it hadn’t been definite — there was still room for recovery back then. With the other two, it’s more difficult to distinguish. Had the option for redemption disappeared when you had come crawling into his bed that first night in Texas, or had it still been there until you had let him tell you that he loved you?

Either way, it’s long gone now.

Worst of all, the last thing you had told Jake was that you hated him.

He stands six feet to your right now, and there’s not a single thing that you could do or say that could fix the things that you’ve done to each other. Your father, sitting suited and powerful behind that big desk, is going to make sure of that.

Sitting here, yourself and Allen on the couch. Your mother, opposite with the press secretary to her right and your father’s lawyer, Owen, on her left. When he had called this meeting, demanding everyone to be dressed and prepared, you had known that your time with Jake was over.

Now, the second of his careers is in tatters and this time, there’s no coming back from it. There’s no amount of time that can heal the damage that you’ve done to Jake’s life, your father can make sure of that. The leading candidate is a friend of your father’s from law school — his power is going to extend far beyond the expiry date on his title as president.

Brushed velvet, freshly cleaned but not for this occasion, navy blue under your fingertips. Baited breath, shoulders tense, colours faded, you pick at the upholstery to keep from crying.

“You have to think of the family right now, Princess,” He’s still reclined back in that chair, those white walls and heavy gold curtains behind his head. It looks fantastic in pictures, the white, gold and blue of the office, that’s why he had picked it. “This isn’t the kind of publicity we want on our names as we leave office.”

Mid-morning — such a strange time for the end to occur. It doesn’t seem right. You’re far from done fighting.

“The only mark on our name right now is that six people died at an event in your honor less than two weeks ago.” You bite. Standing at the back, his arms folded in front of his waist, a muscle in Jake’s jaw ticks. He wants to butt in and tell you to just stop talking, but he can’t. Speaking is just going to make things worse.

“I know you aren’t stupid, so do us all a favour and stop acting like you are,” Your father’s voice hardens, growing more stern as he leans forwards, hands clasped together. It’s all very formal. The security, the suits, the tone. “You know what a scandal like this can do. You’ll ruin your life before you’ve even had an opportunity to live it.”

Jake’s teeth press into his tongue until his mouth is all copper-tasting and numb. It’s interesting. Maybe if he had gone to college, he’d know the word for it — the talent that your father has for passing on the blame. It’s your life at the risk, it’s your fault. Jake can’t help but wonder what exactly it is that does manage to fall under the scope of your father’s personal responsibility.

More recently, it’s been feeling like that has kind of already happened. The question has always been at the back of your mind. How anyone expects you to move on from this, to live a normal life after everything you’ve been through. Back in highschool, you’d joked about one day sharing your memoirs. How terrifyingly suffocating it had been to grow up in the shadow of the White House.

“I will not let you throw away every opportunity that I’ve given you.” The ‘for him’ isn’t a necessary addition; Jake isn’t good enough, he’s not the right kind and he never would have been. He went to Naval Academy right out of highschool and has only set foot on an Ivy League campus once in his life. Even in the right circumstances, your parents never would have accepted him.

Your mother shakes her head, picking anxiously at her nails from the couch opposite you. Her glare has been searing through you since she had sit down. That jagged, red, puffy scar peeking out from under her sweater. Her crutches at the side of the couch.

“I can’t believe that you could even be this selfish,” She speaks up finally. You know that she has been wanting to for a while. Briefly, you glance to your right and you meet Jake’s gaze. Then, you look back to her. “You’ve completely disregarded everything that this family stands for, you’ve made fools of your father and I — and for what? — Was this to punish us for something? — Have we truly been such awful parents?”

Biting your tongue, you just stare back at her. It’s hard to decide which would be more childish: to fold your arms over your chest and outright refuse to answer, or to finally scream like you’ve been wanting to. Your arms cross calmly, you inhale and keep her gaze.

Jake turns his attention towards the floor. Allen looks across at the younger agent, taking his time to study him. In all of his years with you, he knew that something like this would happen eventually. The way you used to taunt those poor sons of bitches until they broke and quit or got reassigned. Not one of them had ever given into your teasing, but Allen knew that it was going to happen.

He hadn’t, however, ever thought that he would feel bad for the guy who fell for it. In his heart, he feels that Jake isn’t a bad guy. Different time, different circumstances, maybe things could have been different between the two of you. It’s a little late for that kind of wishful thinking now, that decisions already been made. It’s why Allen got called down here at the ass-crack of dawn to sit in on this meeting.

Jake’s out. Everyone in this room knows it already.

“Jake goes back to his home, you go back to yours and start grad school as we had planned,” It’s clearly not a suggestion, and it’s a better offer than Manny had been expecting. Your father’s gaze hardens as he looks towards Jake, “You’ll both sign a non-disclosure agreement, we’ll forget that this little indiscretion ever happened.”

“No.”

Jake swallows, curling his hands into fists and uncurling them again, willing you to just stop talking— just this once. His heart throbs at the sadness in your voice. He’s glad, now, that you let him fall asleep still holding you last night.

“I’m not signing anything, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your other option is that we pursue criminal charges.” Owen speaks up finally. A weedy little redhead that your father has known for decades. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and straightens out his suit. He looks across at Jake, who doesn’t seem too bothered by that.

Manny slowly inhales, his fingertips brushing the cotton of his pants as he braces himself for what comes next. No one else seems quite as prepared for it as the three men who know you the best.

“Were you dropped on your head as a child or something?” Voice raised, nostrils flared, taking a step forwards like you’re just about ready to vault over that nice little coffee table separating you from the lawyer. “Criminal charges? — For what?”

Allen reaches out and rests his hand against your knee, like it will do something to keep you tethered down to that blue, velvet couch.

Owen’s mouth curls up, an amused snarl as he leans forwards and reaches into his expensive, embossed book bag and pulls a manual from it. It lands unceremoniously on the coffee table before you, spinning so that the words are facing you. Professionalism within the workforce handbook. Homeland Security Fiscal Year 2021 to Congress.

“I think it might be beneficial for you to familiarize yourself with this book, Miss.” He sneers.

Jake has been saying since he arrived that Allen’s too slow to still be in the service. All of his suspicions are confirmed as you lurch forwards, fingers curling around the book before Allen has even clocked the way that your expression has changed. Jake closes his eyes, exhaling slowly as the book sends Owen’s fragile, wire frames clattering to the floor.

“Fuck you.” All of those years of training, all of those expensive schools — everything that your mother has done to turn you into a well-mannered young lady, shattering faster than those cheap lenses in those wire-framed glasses. Jake’s lips quirk at the corners, just slightly, as he looks past you to study your father. There’s a look of almost confusion on his face. He doesn’t recognize you.

Four different people call you by your name at once. Your parents, Allen, and then Jake. An argument could be made that it’s the difference in Jake’s tone that makes you look to him first. Everyone else is shocked, appalled by your behavior. Jake’s uncharacteristically calm in a way that makes your heart throb.

Short hair, clean-shaven, every freckle and frown line painfully familiar. He’s standing close enough that you could reach him in a few small steps. Jake gives you a soft nod, a barely-there ghost of a smile.

“It’s alright.”

“Don’t you dare—“ Your mother’s on her feet in an instant, rounding towards him with her eyes wide.

Jake still hasn’t moved an inch from where he had been told to stand at the beginning of this whole circus. He’s calm as he looks towards your mother. Calmer than he thought he would be in the event of this happening.

“You won’t press charges,” You look towards your father. He quirks a brow at you. “If you want to keep this quiet, you won’t press charges.”

“Either we keep this civil, and you sign the agreement — or you’ll leave me with no other choice.”

There’s a moment’s pause. Briefly, Jake thinks you’re about to find another projectile to launch across the room. Matthew interjects before you get a chance to make this worse.

“We’ll give you two a moment to discuss.” Matthew decides. You don’t dare to look away from him, your glare burning into him as he clears the room for you.

Jake waits until all the doors are shut before he moves, turning you silently to face him and wrapping his arms tightly around your middle.

“I can — I’ll fix this,” You mumble into his shoulder, fingers curling into the jacket of his suit. Jake squeezes you closer to him. “You can’t leave.”

“A few more months and then this is all over,” Jake whispers, breathing in your smell, pressing his lips softly to your neck. “You’re out, I’m out. Just a few months, and we’ll figure something out.”

A quick shake of your head and you tug yourself closer to him. “Please don’t leave me here.”

“Look at me,” His palms hug your cheeks, keeping your attention on him. His eyes look especially green when he wears black. “You’re going to listen to Manny, and you’re going to be good for a couple of months, and then we’ll figure this whole mess out. Alright?”

“No,” You breathe out, voice trembling. “Fuck, this is all your fault.”

“My fault?”

It’s difficult. Knowing that this moment is fleeting, not wanting to spend it arguing, but just reeling with this anger that makes you want to rip down those heavy, gold curtains and set them on fucking fire.

You’re still holding on to Jake, hands curled around his shoulders, vice-like. He presses his lips once, gently, to your temple, then closes his eyes.

“If you hadn’t lied to me, if you hadn’t just listened to that fucking asshole then we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“I know, I know,” Jake whispers, squeezing you tighter against him, resting his chin against the top of your head. His palm smooths along your spine. “We’re going to sign the NDA, you’re going to go back to school. I’ll figure something out — once you’re out of office, I’ll come back.”

“I can’t go back to that house if you’re not there,” You mumble into his shoulder, hot and cold at the same time, on the verge of tearing up or screaming your lungs out at the end of every syllable. “What if something happens again?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Jake doesn’t know that for sure. He doesn’t know how this began, or how it’ll end. He knows that the safest place for you is by his side. He lies to you anyway. “You just listen to everything Manny says and you’ll be fine.”

Swallowing, the only thing that your brain can conjure is his name. Lips trembling, you give a small shake of your head, “Jake…”

“I love you, and I’ll see you in a little bit, alright?” Jake squeezes at your biceps, trying to meet your gaze until finally you give in and look at him. Your throat squeezes in protest, trying to bring forth another sob. You can’t keep crying. It’s all you’ve done for days. “Just promise me that you aren’t going to do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

The silence that follows makes Jake sigh. He knots his brows together sternly. “Promise me.”

“I don’t want you to go.” You say quietly.

“I don’t want to either, but it’s going to take the heat off of both of us — I’m not leaving here if you’re going to put yourself in danger to get back at your father.” Jake frowns at you.

“I promise.” You mutter finally.

“Alright,” Jake nods slowly, smoothing his hands along your arms. He takes his time in looking you over before he finally cups your jaw and tilts your head back. “I love you.”

You’re still furious. With him, with them, with this whole fucking situation. Most of all, with your powerlessness to it. But, you love Jake. You press your face into his chest and murmur it begrudgingly.

Jake glances towards the door and knows that you’re probably being listened to. His hand curls gently around the nape of your neck as he tugs you back from his chest and presses his lips to yours. He can still taste the salt on your lips from this morning’s tears.

He has half of a story about how this morning had played out — snippets of details that Manny had been able to give him. It was going to happen sooner or later. You still won’t sleep, you’re restless and agitated — you don’t trust anyone around you. He wishes that he didn’t have to leave now.

Reluctant to let you go, Jake squeezes your hand softly and walks over to the closed file on the desk with his name on it. He nudges it open with his index finger, lips quirking immediately at what’s before him.

It’s a screencap of a security tape. From a few months ago, when you’d gotten shitfaced and he had thrown you over his shoulder to take you to your room. Followed by a picture of him leaving your room hours later, the time stamps circled. On the next page, there’s a screencap from a security tape again. This time it’s from your house. The balcony between your room and his. Jake sitting on his chair, you sitting with your foot on the seat between his legs and a big grin on your face — just slightly, your underwear is visible between your parted legs.

Admittedly, Jake’s pleased that this is as scandalous as it gets. The mustn’t have dug too deep — he knows that they could have found much more if they had.

Swiftly, he turns back to you and wraps his arms loosely around your hips. “I’m not sorry for us. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promise me.” You squeak out, throat dry and tight.

“I promise.” Jake confirms, pressing his lips to your temple once more, then nudging your jaw back so that he can kiss your lips. Confirming his suspicions that they had been being listened to, the door opens. He takes his time in withdrawing from you, letting the security see that he had been holding you.

It’s tough. Biting your tongue as Jake’s given an already drawn up agreement and a pen, as he signs away these past few months. He leaves first, heading back to collect his things with two details tailing him. You won’t see him again before he leaves, they’ll make sure of that.

Then, your parents, Owen, the other staff — they watch intently as you’re given your own agreement and the same pen. You lean forwards and study the page, taking your time to go through every word. You’ve signed these before. Hell, some of the parties you had been to with other politicians’ kids had these to sign at the door before you were allowed entry. This is different.

You’ve never felt the urge to break every clause on the page before in the same way that you do today. Scrawling your signature on the dotted line, it feels like you’re just about signing away the right to say his name. To think of his smile.

Glancing up briefly, the ink isn’t even dry, and there’s something on your father’s face that makes your gut tense up. He changes his face immediately, gracing you with something that resembles sympathy.

It lingers on your mind, that expression, as you turn to study the relief on your mother’s face. For her, this problem is solved — you’ll stay away from Jake, you’ll be with someone that she likes instead. For your father, it’s something evidently different. Equally pleasing.

Once the ink has dried, you’re certain now more than ever. His reason for hiring Jake, one person, rather than expanding your team from the beginning — calling you to and from D.C. like a lapdog — the secrecy and arms’ length relationship. Not only did he know about the danger you were in, he knew from the beginning that these plots were more than just displeased voters.

He sits back in his seat as you squint your eyes at him from across the room. Jake’s gone, in a couple of weeks, he’ll take the hit as a mole — this will all blow over. Maybe if your father had spent a little more time playing tea parties with you instead of chess, he’d have a better insight into the way your mind really works.

The room empties slowly, people filtering out — security staff sticking to you like glue. You don’t mind their presence one bit. Shoes tapping delicately across those hardwood floors, you lean forwards and rest your palms on the desk.

Matthew raises his eyebrows at you expectantly.

Lowering your voice to an almost whisper, loud enough for it to remain undoubtedly sincere, you speak finally. His own eyes, down to the very flecks of lighter colour, staring right back at him. Playing his very own game of bullshit. “I know what you did. I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

…

Operation Apollo Tag List

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream

[gabessquishytum]

Dream is the entitled, vicious third son of the city’s most powerful mafia family so when he sets his sights on hob, a bartender just trying to keep his head above water, it’s a recipe for disaster.

Hob works at a bar to pay off college debt, and he has one rule: he doesn’t sleep with customers. This is the kind of a bar where the staff is expected to dress and act a certain way and lots of his coworkers offer other services for money, and while hob doesn’t judge them, he doesn’t want that kind of complication. So he deals with the mild harassment with a smile, flirts for tips, and never lets it go further.

When dream first comes into the bar, it’s obvious that he is bad news. He’s surrounded by dangerous looking men but there’s something about the way they defer to dream that scares the shit out of everyone. Hob wasn’t even supposed to work the front but one of the others begged him to cover their section instead. Hob is a nice guy so he does it, and goes to serve Dream’s group.

When Dream first sets eyes on hob, tits pressed together in a leather corset, arse on display in booty shorts, he wants to get him in his knees. And it isn’t the first time he’s been to this bar, or propositioned the staff, so when he offers hob a wad of cash in exchange for a fuck, he fully expects hob to say yes. But hob doesn’t actually know who Dream is. So hob turns him down.

No one ever turns dream down.

Dream’s pissed, sure, but he’s also determined to own hob, no matter what it takes.

The next night he’s back with his lackeys. Hob sees him come in, predatory as a panther, and feels that cold stare on him as dream settles back at the same table. Hob ignores him. He is technically meant to be ending his shift but before he can, his manager comes over, pale and sweaty and tells hob he has to stay. He’s been personally requested by dream of the endless and no one wants to risk his wrath if they say no.

Hob knows that name and it finally clicks exactly whose attention he’s attracted. Fear makes his blood run a little cold but he doesn’t let it show as he goes back over and serves Dream’s group all night long. Dream barely drinks his vodka martini but watches hob running around all night.

Finally, hob asks Dream if the drink isn’t to his liking. And right in front of him, dream pours his martini out all over the table.

“Clean it up,” he orders hob in that low, hypnotic voice.

“I’ll get a rag,” hob murmurs but Dream’s men close ranks around him.

Dream sits forward. The music pounds between them. “a bottle of that vodka costs more than your month’s rent. Don’t let it go to waste. Lick it up.”

Hob burns with humiliation but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. So he kneels beside the table and starts to lap at the vodka. It isn’t long before a strong, bony hand fists in his hair. Dream doesn’t direct hob, but just feels him move.

By the time he’s done, the table isn’t clean, but there is vodka in hob’s hair, on his chest, and he’s so pissed off he could scream.

“Let me have you,” Dream says. He looks drunk, not on any alcohol, but on the sight of hob following his orders. Humiliated at his hands.

Hob rips away from him. “I’m not for sale.”

“Last night’s offer expired,” Dream replies. “I won’t be paying for you. Not now.”

But he lets hob go, lets him stumble into the bathroom to clean off. Hob doesn’t come back: he sneaks out of the club and sprints home. But it’s too late. There’s nowhere to run in this city that Dream can’t find him. He already knows his name and where he lives. Sooner or later, he’ll have him.

Mini fic in my inbox time!!!! FUCK YEAH this is such a good setup, I LOVE how mean and entitled Dream is, I love the dubcon of it all... yes please.

I'm imagining all the things that could happen. Maybe Dream buys the entire block of flats where Hob lives so now he even controls his home, maybe he psyches him out by playing with the rent - one minute Hob’s getting a letter saying his monthly rent is now only $1, next minute there's another letter increasing the rent to $10,000 per month. Hob is tearing his hair out. Of course Dream gives him a way out of it all - if Hob comes to live in the suite Dream set up for him, he won't have to pay anything. Dream even tries to buy up the bar where Hob works, but it either belongs to one of the other gangs or one of his siblings already, so he can't have it. It's not much of a relief to Hob though. Dream is still in there every night, humiliating Hob and demanding "services".

The worst part of all this is that Dream is... hot. Smoking hot and fucking gorgeous, and Hob would be so ready to jump into bed with him... if he didn't have such an abysmal personality. He makes Hob’s dick want to shrivel up. Most of the time. Except there are moments, when Dream shows up to collect Hob from a late shift at the bar so he doesn't have to walk home and potentially get stabbed.... that's kind of nice. And Dream sometimes sends flowers (usually with a threatening note, but still).

He has a horrible feeling that he's going to get used to all this... and that Dream will get him eventually. Its just a matter of time.

[angelsanarchy]

What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 07

Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @ultrakissed

Thing's were once peaceful and calm but the moment Brenda gave birth, thing's changed. Ammon died and the boys started trying to fight one another for the head of the family. Ron felt slighted by not being the first, obvious choice as the oldest. Robin and Samuel didn't want to lead in any fashion so they happily took the back seat to Dan's plans to move the family into a different direction.

Y/n wasn't sure if Samuel's decision was based on Dan's positive view of plural marriage or not but it felt strange to see him following behind Dan so blindly.

Brenda kept trying to pull Allen back from the family as they started faltering and the boys took that personally. Ruby stood next to Sara as they collected trash from the lunch service they provided while the others kept pumping out pamphlet's for the next gathering.

"Don't you think this is a bad plan? I mean I think-"

"That's your first problem! No one asked you what you thought. No one asked for you to speak. You have no business in any of these matters and if you were as smart as you pretend to be, you would mind your manners and keep your mouth shut." Samuel raised his voice at Brenda who looked as though she had just swallowed her tongue on the spot.

Y/n had never see Samuel so worked up before, let alone raising his voice at someone. Brenda was causing chaos in an already volatile situation and Y/n held a great fear that she would be punished for it if she kept pushing. Sara walked over to Samuel and pulled his hair from the tie he had it pulled back in and he smirked. It was an odd feeling knowing that her and Sara were both a bit worked up seeing Samuel asset his authority like that.

Y/n cleared her throat and took the trash upstairs after Brenda had left and started working on dishes. She hadn't heard Samuel following her but when she felt a hand grip her sides, she jumped, shattering the plate she had been holding in her hand.

"Whoa...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Samuel apologized as Y/n moved to clean up the shards of the plate.

"It's fine. I'm just a little jumpy today." Y/n explained and Samuel sighed.

"Yeah things are getting...tense to say the least." He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her carefully.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?" He smirked and Y/n blushed shaking her head.

"Samuel...thank you." Y/n lowered her tone and he realized what she was doing.

"Do not make your self scarce with me. What's wrong? Talk to me." Samuel put his hands on her hips and turned her towards him.

"We really shouldn't be seen like this. Sara is just downstairs and-

"And soon she'll know exactly how we plan to run our household. Dan is working with Prophet Onias and things will be different." Samuel stroked her face and she let out a deep breath.

"I'm sorry...I've just been feeling off lately with everything going on, I haven't been getting much sleep." Samuel held her cheek.

"Maybe you should go home for the day. I can come by tonight and put you to bed." He smiles hopeful.

"With the way I feel after witnessing that, you wouldn't just be putting me to bed" Y/n teased. Samuel's eyebrows went up before he turned the water off and pulled her hand to follow him towards the bathroom. She follows letting him lean her against the wall opposite the door and rummage around under her skirt.

"Mmmm what's got you so wet with sin my love?" Samuel asked running his fingertips over her slick pussy.

"I've never seen you take charge like that before. Raising your voice and putting someone in their place...it reminded me how strong you are...how incredibly brutal you can be....made me want to be punished." Y/n explained as he pressed his fingers inside of her.

"You're a walking sin sweetheart. You keep talking like that and I will have to punish you. Bend you over my knee tonight and spank you until you can't sit." Y/n moaned as he kept pulsating his finger inside of her. She reached down to feel the bulge in his pants and he hissed at the feeling.

"I want you so badly. I feel like I haven't had you inside me for ages." Y/n complains as Samuel kisses down her neck.

"I know, I know. We've been busy with all these shifts. I promise I will make more time for you." Samuel had already started unzipping his pants when the door to the bathroom opened.

"Sam..." Everything paused. It was Sara. Her eyes were wide as she looked between her husband and someone she thought was her friend half naked and wrapped up in one another. Y/n moved to quickly cover herself up as Sara's jaw tightened and she retreated from the room.

"Sara..." Samuel called out to her but she hadn't stopped. Samuel ran after her, leaving Y/n standing there in her own shame. She knew things were about to get really bad. All she could do was hope that she wasn't ousted from the family. She knew this would happen sooner or later but she wasn't ready for the fall out.

Y/n left the bathroom after what seemed like an hour to find Sara and Samuel sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Y/n...please come sit." Samuel patted the spot next to Sara and Y/n cautiously sat down.

"Sara and I just had a conversation and we would like to have you come stay with us next weekend. I think it's a great opportunity to really see how beautiful this union could be." Samuel had one hand on Sara's hand and the other on Y/n's knee.

"Um...as long as you're sure you're okay with that." Y/n muttered.

"Of course we are. It would be a delight to." Sara said with a fake smile. Samuel grinned and kissed his wife before kissing Y/n's hand and leaving the two women on the couch in an awkward silence.

Y/n wanted to apologize. She wanted to ask forgiveness, explain herself but the moment she went to breathe, Sara slapped her hard in the mouth.

"You are a whore and a wretched shrew of a woman. You will never be a Lafferty no matter how much you fornicate with my husband. I want you to remember one thing and one thing only..." Sara gripped Y/n's chin hard.

"You will never be his wife. You will be the whore who he uses for his sinful behavior and when the time comes, I'm sure you'll be passed around amongst the others as you should." Sara spat as she let go of Y/n's chin and got up from the couch. Y/n held her mouth with her hand and tried to hold back tears.

"Save your tears. You won't find any absolution with any of us." Sara glared one last time before leaving Y/n on the couch, tasting her own blood in her mouth from the strike.

Y/n knew this was the beginning of the end.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Four

Warning: tw: child abuse, tw: verbal abuse, tw: physical abuse, mentions of therapy.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterli st AO3    Ko-Fi

“Hey, kiddo! Did you just come off shift?” Jody greeted her brightly.

“No, I came off an extended double at two o’clock this morning, and I’m back in tonight at seven. Is Uncle Bobby home?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, sweetie. He took his crew for breakfast. Why? Is everything okay?” The concern she heard in Jody’s tone made her smile.

“Yeah, everything’s good, it’s just… are you still looking for a new tenant for the apartment? ‘Cause I got myself a job at Lawrence Memorial and need to find somewhere to live!” Y/N grinned.

“You did not!” Jody’s excitement made her buzz.

“Emergency Nurse Practitioner, Y/N Singer at your service!” she laughed at Jody’s gleeful screech.

“Bobby’s gonna be so happy! He might even crack a smile!” Jody joked.

“Hold up now. Let’s not get crazy!” Y/N replied, and both women cackled with laughter.

“When do you start?” Jody asked once their joy settled.

“The beginning of next month. I’ll work for three more weeks, hammer the overtime, and get extra money for moving costs and furniture. I’ll spend the last week packing and shipping. I’ll probably move out there the Thursday before I start. That gives me the weekend to unpack and settle,” Y/N said.

“How are you feeling about coming home, kiddo?” 

“Uhm, okay, I guess? It’s time. Uncle Bobby was right about that, but don’t tell him I said that!” Y/N giggled.

“I’d never dream of it!” Jody chuckled.

“It’ll be strange, don’t get me wrong, but it is time. I need to stop hiding. I need to finally deal with my shit, you know? My father and…”

“Dean?�� Jody pushed gently at Y/N’s sudden silence.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Bobby doesn’t talk to me about him. I know he’s not married, but he might be with someone. There’s still so much there for me, and I think… I know I need to talk it out. Move forward, whatever that looks like.”

“He’s single. He’s had as much luck on the dating front as you have. He doesn’t have a friend like you do, though. He’s more of a one-night-only kinda guy,” Jody chuckled.

“Ha! Been there, done that!” Y/N scoffed a laugh.

“I did not need to know that!” The grin she could hear in Jody’s voice told her she was teasing, and both women laughed heartily.

“Seriously, kiddo, I think reaching out to Dean is a great idea. I’m sure you both have a lot to discuss. You both need to move on, one way or another.” Jody said gently.

“Yeah, I know. It’s easier said than done, though,” Y/N sighed.

“Everything worth having, doing or saying always is, Y/N.”

“When did you become so wise?” Y/N sniggered.

“Hey! Watch it, or you’ll be sleeping in your car when you get back!” Jody jokingly scolded, and Y/N laughed again.

“Alright, kiddo, I gotta get ready for my shift. Bobby and I will have the apartment cleaned and freshened up for you. Let me know when you start shipping stuff, and you can send it to us first. We’ll get it there for you.”

“Thanks, Jody. I’ll call Bobby later after he’s had some time to sleep, but if you see him before you head out…”

“I’ll tell him his princess is coming home,” Jody said excitedly, and she was starting to wonder who was more excited about her coming home.

“Thanks. I love you, Jody.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Y/N ended the call and fell back onto the mattress with a relieved sigh. She knew she’d be welcomed back to Lawrence with open arms, at least by Uncle Bobby and Jody. Still, she’d been gone far too long, and there was this tiny nagging doubt in her mind that said no one wanted her back after the chaos she’d caused by leaving in the first place.

Jody had become so much more than an aunt to Y/N when she and Bobby started dating. She was her best friend and confidante but never slid into the ‘mom’ role. That was, and would always be, Mary Winchester. 

As part of her therapy, Y/N had written five letters. One to herself, three to the people she cared for most in the world, and one to her father. She’d sent three of those letters. Okay, technically, she’d sent two. She felt the people hurt most by her departure needed an explanation: Mary and Uncle Bobby.

Dean knew everything she’d been through - it was why she understood him not asking her to stay - but Mary and Uncle Bobby didn’t. Y/N made Dean promise not to tell anyone, and Dean was a man of his word. She knew everyone knew something was going on at home; the bruises and flinching at loud noises needed no explanation, but she never admitted to it to anyone but Dean.

The blame she had for her mother’s death, the wish it’d been her instead, Dean was the only one who knew all of it. He was also the only person who knew the vile words, insults, and almost daily degradation she’d been through. Only she, Dean, and her therapist knew about every time he struck her and every harsh word he’d voiced at her.

So, it was with incredible strength that Y/N wrote it down in a letter. She relived everything her father had subjected her to and apologised to Mary for breaking her son’s heart. She’d put Dean’s letter beside Mary’s with instructions to give it to him “at the right time.” However, Y/N also knew there was a chance Mary would never give him the letter, so she’d reluctantly added, “if you think it’s in his best interests,” at the end.

She still didn’t know if Dean had read her letter, but Mary replied, telling her she had forgiven her and loved her. She’d always love her and was sorry for everything her father had put her through. Y/N had expected it but was still shocked by the anger Mary had expressed towards her for not speaking up when she and John would’ve done everything in their power to protect her and get her out of her father’s house, but Y/N knew it ultimately wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Dean?” Bobby said at the end of the shift. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure, Chief. What’s up?” Dean asked as he walked into Bobby’s office.

“Close the door and take a seat,” Bobby said as he pushed aside the paperwork from last night’s fire.

“I’m sure you remember I spoke to Y/N and asked her to think about coming home,” Bobby said gently.

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean swallowed nervously. She wasn’t coming. He could feel it.

“A few weeks ago, she came here-” Bobby started, raising his hands in a ‘hold on, let me finish’ gesture at the anger and hurt that settled on Dean’s face.

“I didn’t know she was here. She flew in and out the same day because she had an interview at Memorial. She didn’t tell us because she had to be back in Chicago to work a night shift,” Bobby smiled softly as Dean’s body and face relaxed, and he slumped back in his chair.

“How’d she do?” Dean asked, his voice shaky.

“She starts on Monday,” Bobby grinned as Dean smiled. “She’s moving into Jody’s apartment over the weekend.”

“Does she, uh,” Dean started and cleared his throat before he tried again. “Is there anyone coming with her? You know, boyfriend, kid, dog?” he chuckled, trying to act nonchalant, but Bobby saw right through him.

“No,” he smiled at the younger man. “She’s dated, but nothing ever stuck. According to Jody, she was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type until she made an arrangement with a friend,” Bobby shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Dean couldn’t stop the smirk crossing his face at seeing his mentor squirm. 

“No doubt she broke a lot of hearts!” Dean chuckled, and Bobby smiled wistfully.

“I’m sure she did. Now go on, get outta here! Enjoy your long weekend fishing at the cabin. I’ll see you next week.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said as he stood.

“For what?” Bobby raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“Telling me about Y/N/N.”

“Promised I would, didn’t I? Besides, can’t have you running into her with one of your love ‘em and leave ‘ems on your arm now, can we?” he winked. “Go on now, get!”

“Hey, are you okay, babe?” Sam asked, flustered as he ran into his parents’ house.

“I’m fine, Sam!” Jess smiled as she rolled her eyes playfully at his concern.

“Are you sure? Did you get checked out properly?” he asked, eyes scanning every inch of her to ensure no sign of illness or injury.

“Sam, babe,” Jess said as calmly as she could, smiling a greeting at John when he entered the kitchen. “I’m fine. I felt a little faint at work, and the new nurse, who is so lovely and not a bitter old bitch like the last one, took me into a room and checked me over. She took a blood sample and gave me a scan just to be sure. It was a little low blood sugar, and she made me sit on the bed until we’d eaten chocolate and drank a soda. I promise I’m much better now. Rowena sent me home for the rest of the day to take it easy. I’m under strict orders to eat at least one more chocolate bar or a slice of cake, put my feet up, and get some rest.”

“You’re sure?” Sam checked again.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she laughed. “Yes! I promise! I’m taking Y/N’s advice and being waited on by an anxious grandmother-to-be for a few hours while I take it easy!”

“Y/N?” Mary asked, placing a generous slab of lemon drizzle cake before Jess and Sam. “It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N Y/L/N by any chance, would it?” Mary finished with a little chuckle as if it was nothing, but it came out more like a plea.

“No,” Jess mumbled around a mouthful of cake. “Y/N Singer. But when she heard my name was Winchester, she asked if I was any relation to you guys. She said she went to school with Dean. Maybe she got married?” she said, putting more cake in her mouth.

“What?” Jess asked at the sudden silence in the room.

“Maybe she took her mama’s name when she left,” John voiced what had been on everyone’s mind.

“Do you think Dean knows?” Sam questioned, and Jess looked downright confused.

“Dean knows what?” Dean asked, returning from the bathroom and leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Next Chapter >>

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