#same day loans for people on benefits

[florafinanceuk]

What is Guaranteed Loans in London UK

Guaranteed loans for unemployed in London are loans that are backed by a guarantee from a third-party, such as the government or a financial institution. This guarantee ensures that the lender will be repaid in full even if the borrower defaults on the loan.

In London, guaranteed loans are typically available to small businesses or individuals who may not have the credit history or collateral required to qualify for traditional loans. These loans may be used for a variety of purposes, such as starting a new business, expanding an existing business, or making a large purchase.

Guaranteed loans in London may be offered by both private and public institutions, including banks, credit unions, and government agencies. The terms and conditions of these loans will vary depending on the lender, the borrower's credit history and financial situation, and the purpose of the loan.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau put forward a new regulation to limit bank overdraft fees. The CFPB pointed out that the average overdraft fee is $35 even though majority of overdrafts are under $26 and paid back with-in 3 days. The new regulation will push overdraft fees down to as little as $3 and not more than $14, saving the American public collectively 3.5 billion dollars a year.

The Environmental Protection Agency put forward a regulation to fine oil and gas companies for emitting methane. Methane is the second most abundant greenhouse gas, after CO2 and is responsible for 30% of the rise of global temperatures. This represents the first time the federal government has taxed a greenhouse gas. The EPA believes this rule will help reduce methane emissions by 80%

The Energy Department has awarded $104 million in grants to support clean energy projects at federal buildings, including solar panels at the Pentagon. The federal government is the biggest consumer of energy in the nation. The project is part Biden's goal of reducing the federal government's greenhouse gas emissions by 65% by 2030. The Energy Department estimates it'll save taxpayers $29 million in the first year alone and will have the same impact on emissions as taking over 23,000 gas powered cars off the road.

The Education Department has cancelled 5 billion more dollars of student loan debt. This will effect 74,000 more borrowers, this brings the total number of people who've had their student loan debt forgiven under Biden through different programs to 3.7 Million

U.S. Agency for International Development has launched a program to combat lead exposure in developing countries like South Africa and India. Lead kills 1.6 million people every year, more than malaria and AIDS put together.

Congressional Democrats have reached a deal with their Republican counter parts to revive the expanded the Child Tax Credit. The bill will benefit 16 million children in its first year and is expected to lift 400,000 children out of poverty in its first year. The proposed deal also has a housing provision that could see 200,000 new affordable rental units

[kiwi-astrology]

COMPOSITE OBSERVATIONS PT. 2

As a disclaimer: these are all my personal observations. Feel free to read them and critically think about them for your own benefit. I am not an astrology expert, but rather a passionate student! Alongside this: astrology should never be a tool to predict whether or not you should begin or end a relationship! Observations are reflective understandings of patterns. With that: Enjoy!

𖦹 I’m not exactly sure why, but I’ve noticed with 11th house mars in the composite the people get annoyed with each other? It’s like one person wants to share every detail of their life and the other feels drained. Energy is environment-dependent. If one person feels drained of their own energy, they don’t have the time to unconditionally make room for the connections energy. I’ve also found one person tends to be very community based and the other follows them around. I haven’t though much about this placement but so many observations of this share the same.

𖦹 Mars in 5th house composite connections find energy in adrenaline inducing subjects. From going out to bars together to talking about fun memories, excitement energies this connection. This placement will inspire the individuals to have fun in life and create beautiful things together.

𖦹 10th house composite stellium are very much public relationships. Everything you guys do together will be known. Depending on the relationship it could be positive or negative. A well-known business pair, famous couple, or popular friends. It will be difficult to keep the substance of the relationship private.

𖦹 4th house stellium relationships on the other hand are very private. This couple will do everything together from day to day routines to travelling for vacations and not tell anyone. This couple treats their relationship with an abundance of intimacy compared to other house stelliums. 

𖦹 Uranus in the 12th house composite could lead to sudden endings or abrupt changes. Out - of - control endings due to sporadic events occurring. 

𖦹 Venus in the 2nd house composite can show one person always taking care of another persons comfort needs. Getting water for someone. Giving someone spending money. Loaning an extra bathroom accessory. I’ve seen it be more one sided with a provider-receiver in the relationship. 

𖦹 This observation surprised me but I know a lot of mars in the 4th house composite connections and all the relationships are quite protective over one another. However, if one persons comfort is deeply disturbed by an external event, this can easily enter the relationships atmosphere. Mars energy in the 4th house is strong. It’s hard to ignore any feelings, thoughts, experiences, etc. It will force you to address everything occurring in the relationship, or else the relationship will suffer. There will never comfortably be any “elephants in the room” in these relationships. Its a good placement for people who prefer confrontation and addressing any issues. 

𖦹 Composite 1st house planets (especially the closer they are to the ascendant) will be on display for your relationship’s identity. For example: Venus in the first house composite, whether or not feelings are reciprocated: your relationship will be known for the love/romance/attraction that leaks out of it. Moon in the first house composite: your relationship will be known for its emotional reactions, for how it made people feel. Mercury in the first house composite: your relationship will be known for its friendliness and banter between the two of you. It’s not so much of a “legacy tenth house” but how your relationship is viewed at surface level. What people instantly think of when they think of it. It’s more superficial than the tenth house but still identity-driven amongst a community. 

𖦹 Libra mercury in the composite is all about sweet-talk and flirting. Kindness in conversation is necessary -- even if it’s forced. Once the flirting ends it can startle one of you. 

𖦹 Composite Venus in Aquarius must be top-tier because it’s the most popular placement I’ve noticed in my 30+ personal observations. 

𖦹 Composite mercury in 9th is very teacher-student oriented. One person always giving advice and guidance to the other person. A mentor-mentee relationship is present.

𖦹 For some reason my favorite composite ascendants to see are Cancer and Libra...not sure if this could relate to both of their 12th houses being mercurial (Gemini & Virgo). Maybe there is a comfortability with the curious and intellectual mercury signs in the 12th house for composites. An acceptance to always let the relationship change and grow without attachment but rather curiosity. The 12th house can be challenging to navigate in the natal chart let alone a composite chart. The subconscious things that isolate you. The endings you have to face. The spiritualty of the connection, that you will never understand. The questions that will never be answered. This stimulates mercurial signs in a healthy challenging way. 

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Year

1. Belgium approves four-day week and gives employees the right to ignore their bosses after work

Workers in Belgium will soon be able to choose a four-day week under a series of labour market reforms announced on Tuesday.

The reform package agreed by the country's multi-party coalition government will also give workers the right to turn off work devices and ignore work-related messages after hours without fear of reprisal.

"We have experienced two difficult years. With this agreement, we set a beacon for an economy that is more innovative, sustainable and digital. The aim is to be able to make people and businesses stronger," Belgian prime minister Alexander de Croo told a press conference announcing the reform package.

2. Spain makes it a crime for pro-lifers to harass people outside abortion clinics

Spain has criminalized the harassment or intimidation of women going for an abortion under new legislation approved on Wednesday by the Senate. The move, which involved changes to the penal code, means anti-abortion activists who try to convince women not to terminate their pregnancies could face up to a year behind bars.

3. House passes bill to federally decriminalize marijuana

The House has voted with a slim bipartisan majority to federally decriminalize marijuana. The vote was 220 to 204.

The bill, sponsored by Democratic Rep. Jerry Nadler of New York, will prevent federal agencies from denying federal workers security clearances for cannabis use, and will allow the Veterans’ Administration to recommend medical marijuana to veterans living with posttraumatic stress disorder.

The bill also expunges the record of people convicted of non-violent cannabis offenses, which House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer said, “can haunt people of color and impact the trajectory of their lives and career indefinitely.”

4. France makes birth control free for all women under 25

The scheme, which could benefit three million women, covers the pill, IUDs, contraceptive patches and other methods composed of steroid hormones.

Contraception for minors was already free in France. Several European countries, including Belgium, Germany, the Netherlands and Norway, make contraception free for teens.

5. The 1st fully hydrogen-powered passenger train service is now running in Germany. The only emissions are steam & condensed water.

Five of the trains started running in August. Another nine will be added in the coming months to replace 15 diesel trains on the regional route. Alstom says the Coradia iLint has a range of 1,000 kilometers, meaning that it can run all day on the line using a single tank of hydrogen. A hydrogen filling station has been set up on the route between Cuxhaven, Bremerhaven, Bremervörde and Buxtehude.

6. Princeton will cover all tuition costs for most families making under $100,000 a year, after getting rid of student loans

In September, the New Jersey Ivy League school announced it would be expanding its financial aid program to offer free tuition, including room and board, for most families whose annual income is under $100,000 a year. Previously, the same benefit was offered to families making under $65,000 a year. This new income limit will take effect for all undergraduates starting in the fall of 2023.

Princeton was also the first school in the US to eliminate student loans from its financial aid packages.

7. Humpback whales no longer listed as endangered after major recovery

Humpback whales will be removed from Australia's threatened-species list, after the government's independent scientific panel on threatened species deemed the mammals had made a major recovery. Humpback whales will no longer be considered an endangered or vulnerable species.

Climate change and fishing still pose threats to their long-term health.

Some other uplifting news from last year:

A Cancer Trial’s Unexpected Result: Remission in Every Patient

California 100 percent powered by renewables for first time

Israel formally bans LGBTQ conversion therapy

Tokyo Passes Law to Recognize Same-Sex Partnerships

First 100,000 KG Removed From the Great Pacific Garbage Patch

As we ring in the New Year let’s remember to focus on the good news. May this be a year of even more kindness and generosity. Wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2023!

Thank you for following and supporting this g this newsletter

Buy me a coffee ❤️

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (10)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

←Previous Chapter (09) | Next Chapter (11) →

Baggage Chapter List

*****

Present, 2023:

Your tensed shoulders indicated you were still angry after leaving Jungkook's apartment. You knew it would be unwise to meet Jang Min, especially Soobin, in this condition, so you decided to cool down by walking in a park.

According to Yoongi, your therapist, misplaced anger was something you were prone to doing. It was probably triggered when Jisoo encouraged you to vent your hurt to her after what the people in the club had done to you.

Your Jisoo-unnie was less threatening. You could hurt her, but she wouldn't budge. In fact, she'd tell you to hurt her more—this horrifying realization baffled Yoongi, though he had to remain calm, mainly because you seemed to be having a panic attack.

You will never forget that day. It was your third appointment with Dr. Yoongi. Verlaine accompanied you, but he stayed in the other room of the clinic as each session was exclusive for the doctor and patient only. Besides, Verlaine had to look after your nephew.

Soobin was a few months old at this time. It hadn't been long since his mother passed. You were mourning, but your quiet resentment was gnawing at you. You hated that you were grieving your traitor of a sister.

Yoongi tiptoed at first, validating your fury. Unfortunately, you were distraught. You were blind and deaf by any information that did not benefit you.

"She told me they were lonely." You reiterated to your therapist Jisoo's reason; the veins in your neck throbbed painfully. "She might as well just stabbed me in the fucking heart. How could she say that? How could they be so cruel to me!?"

Yoongi sighed softly and stopped writing bullshit in his notebook. Ideals were what the therapist said he liked to write. He would give these 'ideals' to his patients so they could follow them. You thought it was bullshit, mainly because you felt like Yoongi was not on your side.

"You'll be surprised at how lonely people deal with things. Sometimes, they hurt people close to them."

"But why!" You kicked the chair. You were tired of asking these questions—none of them gave you the answer you needed. "Why would they hurt me? What did I ever do to them!?"

"Nothing." Yoongi looked at you, breathing in and out until he coaxed you to do the same. Your chest tightened as you inhaled. "You're not at fault here, but this isn't about you either. It's about them. Decisions are not always made to be justifiable or morally correct. Sometimes, they are simply made. It's a hard pill to swallow, but their choices are for what they want and feel— not for you."

Jisoo and Jungkook didn't have it in them to think about you in their most desperate and vulnerable moment. Lonely people just wanted to escape, and sometimes, they chose the easiest way because their hardening hearts and noisy minds were already challenging to deal with. The night of their betrayal was the easiest time to relieve their pain because Jisoo and Jungkook understood each other. What did you even know about fucked up decisions and sickness when all your life, you had been sailing the smoothest path?

"It's not fair, I agree with you. However, you cannot get better if you're constantly pinning the blame on them. They hurt you; it was their choice. Now, it's up to you if you want to heal or live in misery. But you can reclaim your power. You can decide for yourself—the decision they cannot and did not do for you."

But you shook your head, ears tightly shut.

"I don't care what you say. It's not an excuse to hurt me. Fuck them—and fuck you for defending them and putting the burden on me!" You wanted to slam Yoongi against the wall.

The wall—

Your eyes were wide. On the other side of the wall was Soobin.

"The kid..." You thought, voice grave. "He shouldn't be alive! He's proof of their betrayal to me! My sister chose him instead of chemotherapy! She wanted to die to relieve herself from the guilt of hurting me!"

You stood up, turning to face the door. Yoongi was alarmed. He seized your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

Soobin. Your eyes seemed to say. The kid was an extension of those who had hurt you--

"You're not planning to hurt your nephew, are you?"

You gasped, knees turning weak. You turned your head to look at your therapist, horror painting your face.

"No." You denied it, panicked. "No. No. Please, don't. I didn't mean to."

Yoongi read your mind. He knew your dark thoughts. No.

"Please, Doc. You have to believe me...” You hiccupped. “I...I wasn't thinking straight. I'm not actually going to hurt him. Please. I love Soobin. I am just lonely."

Lonely.

You felt like you were hit by a fast-moving track, dragging your bloody body until your heart stopped.

No. This wasn't how you were supposed to understand Yoongi's point. It was too cruel. 

'It's not about you.' Yoongi's words echoed in your mind. You felt as if someone put a pillow on your face, asphyxiating you.

"Hey, are you okay? Are you--!!" The therapist exclaimed, but you had no idea what happened next. You passed out because of stress. When you woke up, you were already back in your apartment. Verlaine remained by your side, waiting for you to return to your senses.

The first thing you did when you woke up was look for Soobin. You were hysterical, thinking that Yoongi diagnosed you as an insane person and, hence, not fit to care for Soobin. Your therapist had ideals, but he wasn’t mean. Verlaine told you that he and Yoongi made a deal.

"You have to get better and see your therapist regularly. You're too stressed. You can't take care of Soobin in this condition. I'll just stay with you for a while. Is that all right?"

You nodded vigorously. You didn't care what the conditions were. You only wanted Soobin to stay with you, so for years, you diligently took care of your mental health until you were deemed fit to be Soobin's guardian.

You thought you needed time alone before you saw Soobin today. You were afraid you’d had the thought of hurting your neph—son just like before. Jungkook brought out the worst in you, and confronting him today messed up your mind.

You stayed in the park for an hour before returning to your apartment. You flagged down a cab, calling Lee Sung on your way so he could bring Soobin back to your home. You couldn't stay with Jang Min forever. You know your boyfriend was a busy man, too.

Naturally, Soobin and Lee Sung reached your apartment first since Jang Min's home was only a few blocks away from yours. Soobin was already sleeping when you arrived.

"Sleeping again?" Your forehead creased, a frown etched on your lips. However, Lee Sung simply shrugged.

"I told you already. Your son loves boss a lot. He ran around while you were..." Lee Sung paused and eyed you from head to toe. There's a sly smirk on his face. "Out."

You disliked how Lee Sung looked at you but didn't comment. As Jang Min told him everything, Lee Sung probably knew where you went; he was Jang Min’s right hand, after all. In your defense, though, you didn't do anything wrong. Jungkook only pissed you off.

"Then you can go now." You ended the conversation at once. You were almost pushing Lee Sung out of the door. "I'll contact you if I need you. Please look after Jang Min-ssi for a while."

Jang Min had a business trip abroad. You wouldn't see him for weeks or months. You didn't mind, as you and Jang Min had been long-distance for the majority of your relationship. Jang Min frequented in Russia more.

You thought your life was okay as long as Soobin was by your side. Thankfully, Lee Sung didn't disgrace your home by staying too long.

It was still a bit early, yet your energy had been sucked up fully. You picked up Soobin, gently moving his tiny body into your room so you could sleep beside him.

Your son wasn't at risk of bed-sharing with you anymore. You used to be driven by paranoia; you took caring for Soobin seriously, and any danger for a child scared you senseless. It took you long before you started feeding your son solid food for fear of choking. Soobin was well-behaved, though. He listened to your advice to chew his food properly and slowly. (Save for when you had crab spring rolls because Soobin would inhale that food in seconds.)

Like father, like son.

You looked at Soobin's sleeping form. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest. I love you like my own. Tears welled up in your eyes as you embraced your kid. Don't betray me like your parents did.

*** Jungkook was left in his shit hole of an apartment alone. The loud slam of the door rang in his ears, vibrating straight in his heart. Your retreating figure reminded him of what he couldn't have.

Jungkook mumbled your name pitifully. He knew. He knew he had long lost the right to cling to you. Gone were the days he could claim you with a choker and playfully call you mine.

Jungkook called your name again. His voice held a tremor as he desperately reached out his hand toward the door.

Jungkook felt tears trickling down his cheeks, ignoring his long streak of holding it together. His life had been so fucked up that he didn't dare wish for someone like you to stay with him.

But Jungkook can't. His heart felt as if there was a gaping hole that only you could fill.

“No…” Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. Despite his aching wound, he barged out of his home, running after you.

It didn't matter if you decided to fill the hole in Jungkook's heart with rough sand or a cold mix of asphalt. He wouldn't dare whine at your rough insult or stone-cold face—he would accept anything, but not you leaving.

Your encounter today was like a huge slap in Jungkook's face—how he made everything worse for you. It was a sudden realization. Jungkook wasn't even sure if he would think the same later, but one thing was for sure: Jungkook wanted to catch up to you now.

He did.

Jungkook watched you walk aimlessly at the park. It took you an hour—or maybe more—before you hailed a cab. Jungkook didn't mind, realizing how much he craved looking at you—even from afar.

Afar.

You got inside the cab, which, in just a few seconds, was already far from where Jungkook was.

Jungkook panicked, hand digging into his pants pocket to see if he had money left.

He did not.

Of course, he didn't have anything with him.

Jungkook mumbled your name again. The desperation colored his face once more. He ignored his wounds for the nth time, choosing to chase the cab instead. Unfortunately, Jungkook's speed was no match for a vehicle or a normal human being. But he didn't stop. He ran like a lunatic as his eyes darted on street signs.

"Imperial Gardens," Jungkook murmured as he picked up the speed. "26006..."

Jungkook shook his head violently, feeling the cold air hit his face. No. He memorized your address wrong.

"2200..." He recalled and smacked his head—as if doing so would make him remember.

"R-Royal Heights. Incheon...Ugh." Jungkook's body was still weak. His steps halted to check if his wounds were bleeding. Thankfully, they weren't. It gave Jungkook the dumb idea to continue running, praying to Gods he didn't believe in to make him remember your address right.

The Gods had been terrible to him before, but not this time. It took him a while, but he successfully reached your apartment. It had your surname on a signage plastered on your front door. The place was probably twenty times bigger than Jungkook's rented room, making his hand shake. The confidence he mustered earlier faded in the face of your big home.

She was doing so well. Jungkook licked his lips. What if I just ruin her?

The other part of his brain frowned at him, 'If she's doing well, then why would she come to you?'

For a while, two sides of Jungkook's brain argued. He didn't know where to listen. All he knew was his eyes were heavy and his wounds, despite not bleeding, hurt.

Jungkook blinked. Sweat cascaded his forehead down to his neck. It was hot, and he felt like throwing up.

He gently flopped down the ground, leaning against your massive front door.

It's okay. He told himself despite his clenching heart. It's not okay. He's afraid. He was so scared you would open the door and realize you didn't want him in your life anymore.

It's okay. Jungkook told himself, and the door opened just like in his imagination.

Jungkook heard a gasp, followed by a hand gripping his shoulder.

"Jungkook? What are you doing here? What the fuck—"

It was clearly your voice, but Jungkook was so out of it. He was awake, but he couldn't focus on anything other than his body pain.

"You're sweating." You helped him get to his feet. "What are you—" Then you snickered when you realized what had happened. "You—!! Did you run here!?"

You told me to go to you. Jungkook thought, but he only bit his quivering lip. You gave me a chance.

"Fuck. I don't know what I'm going to do with you!" You cursed, yet you anchored Jungkook's hand into your shoulder, gently guiding him inside your massive home.

You helped Jungkook sit on the couch. Jungkook groaned, eyes clamping shut. He was in too much pain. His wounds had been aggravated. Again.

You shook your head in disappointment as you fished your phone out of your pocket to call for help.

"Hold it." You said before carding your fingers through Jungkook's sweaty hair. "Help will be here in a while—Jungkook? Are you listening?"

Jungkook could only answer with a nod. You let out a breath. This is enough. At least he didn't pass out because of pain.

You were able to book an emergency appointment with a home doctor. He lived around the area, so it didn't take him long to arrive. He examined Jungkook, and contrary to what the nurses said, the doctor said it was okay to stay home as long as the patient didn't strain himself and followed a strict diet schedule.

The doctor cleaned Jungkook's wound and prescribed him medicine (which you immediately had someone deliver.) As usual, you took care of everything while Jungkook slept. He was barely making it while the doctor talked to him.

Doctor Ace had to turn to you instead. "You've listed what should and shouldn't be done with him, right? I trust you can follow it. I'll be back tomorrow to check up on him. For now, just let him rest."

"Thank you, Doc." You listened to some more of the doctor's advice before escorting him out of your home. Afterward, you returned to the living room to look at Jungkook resentfully.

You wanted to hit him, but in the end, you simply sighed and let Jungkook off.

Shitty bastard.

****

Jungkook felt like he was stuck in a nightmare. He felt his whole body ache after exhausting himself to get to you.

It seemed like Jungkook always had to run. Because if he didn't, those people would catch up to him—insistent on making him miserable by first dragging his body to the ground.

"Don't make trouble." Someone would press his face to the floor until he couldn't breathe properly, and then he'd feel that person grabbing his hand, his fingertips caressing Jungkook's wrist. "It'll hurt more if you resist."

It hurt at first— but soon, it only tickled. Jungkook thought the troubling memories would fade over time, yet they still haunt him while he was asleep. The nightmare persisted, making it hard for him to breathe.

The ticklish feeling from before could be felt even now. Jungkook struggled. He shook his head and forced himself to wake up.

It's a nightmare. He reminded himself. The feeling of someone grabbing his wrist and forcing him into something happened years before. It might haunt him in his sleep, but it couldn't—wouldn't hurt him if he woke up.

So he did.

"Nggh—!!" Jungkook jolted awake. The ticklish feeling was gone, yet he felt his body hurt. He blinked and looked at his wound, realizing that his stomach was covered in a bandage.

Right. He had been stabbed.

Jungkook rapidly became aware of his surroundings. He stupidly chased after you and made his barely healed wound worse.

Now he was—

Jungkook looked around.

—He was at your house.

Jungkook bit his lower lip, hands clammy. He was safe. He was at your house. Lee Sung didn't know this place. Those men in his nightmare couldn't reach him here.

It was going to be okay. Jungkook tried to convince himself. Sadly, his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

He grabbed his wrist, trying to steady it, when he felt a wet feeling in his hand.

Jungkook looked at the back of his palm. His eyes shrunk as he studied his hand. Through his peripheral vision, he saw a small figure sitting on the floor beside the couch where he sat.

Jungkook finally focused his gaze on that small figure.

Soobin.

Considering that he was in your house, it shouldn't come as a surprise. Nonetheless, Jungkook still felt as if the air had been robbed from his lungs the second he laid his eyes on the kid.

Soobin was sitting obediently on the floor while holding a paintbrush—this explained the wetness in Jungkook's hand and the ticklish feeling he thought was induced by his nightmare.

As it turned out, Soobin was painting something on the back of Jungkook's hand.

"Heart!" Soobin suddenly spoke and gently grasped Jungkook's hand to point at his painting there.

Jungkook's mouth parted slightly, heart skipping a beat when he felt Soobin's soft hand grazing his skin. Yeah. This is different from the touch of those men before.

Soobin was a harmless child who liked showing off his heart painting, which looked like a simple red-colored circle.

"D'ya like it?" The child asked innocently; his touch remained gentle as he remembered your reminder. You told Soobin not to bother Jungkook and just keep him company.

Usually, you would not impose such a task on a small child, especially on Soobin. However, Jungkook kept his hold on you even when he was asleep. He kept murmuring, ‘Do not leave me,’ so you had no choice but to turn to your son.

You had to cook dinner on the other side of the room while Jungkook slept, and Soobin silently held his hand and painted hearts on it.

There were two hearts. They were horribly painted, but Jungkook smiled—a genuine smile he hadn't made in years.

"Of course, I like it." His large hand moved to ruffle Soobin's hair. They were soft, partly because he was a kid, and the other reason was because you took good care of your son.

"Am happy!" Soobin giggled and attempted to paint another heart on his father's hand. Meanwhile, Jungkook fell into a stupor, his heart faintly aching from the memory that flooded his brain.

Back then, Jungkook excitedly ran toward your apartment. He knocked like usual, excitement whirling at the pit of his stomach as he waited for you to open the door.

You just swung the door open when Jungkook came near you. You two were chest to chest.

"Hey, look! I got these today!" Little Jungkook basically shoved the watercolor and paintbrush into your chest. "They're so cool!"

Your eyes glistened in awe. At this time, you weren't used to speaking to Jungkook yet. You simply allowed Jungkook to pester you. Luckily, you didn't have to force words out of your mouth. Jungkook willingly let you use the paint first.

You were shaking in anticipation, yet you painted a perfect heart shape on your wrist.

"Me too. Let me paint!" Jungkook gently grabbed the brush from your hand, though he didn't let go of your hand. He used it as a canvas and painted a heart on the back of your palm.

"Big," you observed softly, eyes narrowing to see the shape. It didn't look like a heart, just an ugly, drawn red circle.

But Jungkook was overly proud of his painting.

"It is big.” The brunet grinned. “I made it for you. It’s bigger than your heart because it’s my heart. I love you!”

Innocence always suited children. Jungkook was once a child who was never afraid to voice his feelings for you. He liked you. He told you he loved you on the first day you two met. Jungkook used to be simple-minded. He’d promised to hang out with you because he loved you.

But you weren’t children anymore. Heck. Jungkook had a child of his own now. He blinked back to reality to stare at Soobin. The kid was still busy painting hearts; his lips were puckered while his brows furrowed.

It’s my child. Jungkook thought, trying not to have a panic attack. He had heard worse news. This was just a child…

Just a child…

Jungkook’s heart violently trembled.

He had a child.

“You—” Soobin’s arched brows were higher. He let go of the brush upon noticing Jungkook’s weird expression. He was a perceptive child. “Not like Soobin's heart?”

Jungkook’s breathing was ragged, throat and mouth dry. But he knew he had to force himself to look okay. Honestly, he should give himself some credit for being able to pull himself together despite the shocking news that he unwillingly got to know of.

“I like it,” Jungkook smiled. It wasn’t as genuine as the first one. He scratched his throat before patting Soobin’s head. “Where’s your Ma?”

“Oh!” Soobin’s eyes were comically wide. They shone bright at the mention of his mother. Soobin had forgotten all about painting. “Mama!”

The little kid ran. Jungkook was shocked, but he immediately recovered and followed Soobin. He didn’t run, though. He really should stop abusing his body. Soobin didn’t run far. He just went to the kitchen where you cooked.

The food aroma wafted through the room. Jungkook’s stomach grumbled; he focused on the smell before he realized you were looking at him with a creased forehead. You held a spoon in your right hand; your other hand supported Soobin’s weight. Soobin wrapped his arms around your neck, having no intention to let go.

“You’re awake.” You broke the silence, eyeing Jungkook from head to toe. The bastard looked fine. “Did Soobin wake you up?”

“No.” Jungkook shook his head, not sure how to continue the conversation.

“Okay. Sit.” You gestured toward the chair. “I’m almost done. Dinner will be ready soon.” There was a high chair beside the spot Jungkook chose to sit on. It was for Soobin, so you carefully settled your son there.

Jungkook watched the mother-son duo quietly. He was clueless as to how to approach this whole ordeal. He allowed himself to be impulsive, running after you just cause he was scared to see you retreating.

Now, though, he didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like his circumstances had changed. Jungkook’s life was still utterly fucked.

“Have some of these first.” You came near the two boys to offer them some pudding. You were surprised when Soobin and Jungkook both reached for the strawberry-flavored one.

Time seemed to stop. Soobin and Jungkook looked at each other, seeing who’d let go first. Jungkook’s grip on the pudding tightened, making Soobin gasp.

“You two...” You were lost for words.

Jungkook’s instinct told him to grab the pudding tighter, but for once, logic sided with him. He instantly let go of the strawberry pudding when he realized he was competing with a child.

His child.

“Here you go, little one.” Jungkook smiled. He then turned to you; his face was unreadable when he wordlessly accepted the coconut-flavored pudding from your hand.

It made you sigh loudly. Damn Jungkook and Soobin for basically being the same person. They really were…

“Soobin ate all the strawberry-flavored ones. That’s the last one.” You explained, “Make do with that for now. I’ll buy more strawberry flavors next time.”

Next time. Jungkook’s heart swelled. There is a next time. You…You weren’t planning on kicking him out.

“T-Thanks.” Jungkook mumbled, voice barely above a whisper, yet you heard it loud and clear.

“Right.” You went back to preparing dinner. You made a crab soup and added purred vegetables to it. It was a simple meal that Doctor Ace approved. It was good for Soobin, too. Your son liked it so much that he asked for another bowl.

“Crab addict.” You clicked your tongue. Jungkook’s eyes flicked to you, thinking you were referring to him.

“It’s good.” Jungkook ladled another bowl for himself. “I haven’t had this in a long time.” He let himself slip off.

You stopped drinking your soup. You stared seriously at Jungkook. “Why not? Too busy to buy? Or to make one?” You hadn’t seen each other in years. You didn’t know if this bastard learned how to cook.

“No.” Jungkook blew on his soup, still high from the addicting taste that he forgot to lie. “I just couldn’t afford it.”

You weren’t surprised, considering the state of Jungkook’s home. But you couldn’t help your curiosity. You took advantage of Jungkook’s relaxed aura. “Why not? Aren’t you a billionaire? Where’d all your money go?”

“I lost in on—”

You swore you were close to finding out the truth. It was easy to bait Jungkook with food, specifically crab food. But Jungkook wasn’t the naïve boy he used to be. He couldn’t—wouldn’t give in.

The silence was deafening. Jungkook stopped drinking his soup, too.

Your mood soured, but you should have seen it coming. Jungkook would never trust you. How much more pain did you have to go through to realize that?

Jungkook called your name when he noticed your mood plummeted. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

“Forget it.” You stood up, bringing your bowl with you. You poured its contents into the sink. You took your time washing that one piece of bowl and spoon. Thankfully, Soobin announced he was done with his soup, too.

Jungkook stood up and grabbed Soobin’s bowl before you could reach it. Your hands brushed. You pulled at once, though, not liking the electricity that pricked your skin just by simple skin contact with your former best friend.

Damn it.

“I’ll wash the dishes.”

You didn’t respond. You only carried your son in your arms. You started walking away. There were approximately fifty steps before one could exit the kitchen. You were twenty steps away from Jungkook when you paused.

“Your room is on the first floor. White door. Mine’s the one beside that, black door.” You didn’t look back. “You’re welcome to stay whenever. If you need something, just knock on my door--”

You suddenly stopped talking. Soobin yawned; he kissed your cheek before rubbing his head on your chest.

Your lip caught between your teeth. You exhaled, “—I will answer when you call.”

After that, you walked away. You didn’t have any helpers at home. If you needed anything, you just hired an hourly maid, and if Lee Sung was here, all mundane tasks fell on him. You didn’t like calling him, though. You preferred handling things independently, especially if the matter was about Soobin.

Soobin wasn’t difficult to deal with. You didn’t take long to clean him up and settle him to bed. Soobin liked bedtime stories, so you made up one. It was pretty short, though, as your mood was foul after dealing with Jungkook.

“I love you, mon bébé. Goodnight.”

Soobin’s response was a hum, relishing your soft kiss on his forehead. You watched Soobin sleep for a while before retreating to your room. Your mood did get a little better after a long shower. Honestly, you were confused and still afraid of what happened and what would happen next. Jungkook just showed up at your house, and while you shouldn’t have been surprised (you were the one who gave your address to him), you still were. But that’s the thing about Jungkook. He had always been unpredictable. You wouldn’t even blink if Jungkook left now. It was in his nature to run away, and you were the only one who insisted on things happening.

To talk was what you wanted to do, but Jungkook was evasive. Even if he wasn’t, the situation never seemed to be on your side. There was always an accident whenever you tried to face each other.

You didn’t know how long you could hold on any longer. You sighed and opened the door of your bedside drawer, picking up a framed picture of your departed sister there.

Should I just go back to France? Your hold on the frame was firm. I kept my promise. I told him about Soobin. What else can I do if he doesn’t want—

You couldn’t finish your train of thought. It hurt to think about what Jungkook thought about you and Soobin because after all this time, you still—

Your thoughts were once again interrupted. This time, by a knock on your door. You looked at the baby monitor. Soobin was sleeping soundly in the other room, so…

You swallowed thickly. The person outside your room could only be Jungkook. Your heart skipped a beat; you felt like floating when you opened the door for your former best friend.

As expected, Jungkook was there, hovering awkwardly at the door. His head snapped up to meet your gaze.

“Hi.” It's a classic greeting. You already knew this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Talking never went well for the both of you.

“What do you want?” Your tone was more tired than biting. The rollercoaster emotion earlier got to you. You wanted to sleep now or maybe talk to your Jisoo-unnie, see if she stopped being a pain in the ass, and her burning spirit in hell would show up and tell you it’s okay to go back to France.

“I want to thank you for dinner and letting me stay here…”

You noticed Jungkook fidgeting. This was new. Jungkook was always teasing you. Now he just looked…embarrassed? And he wasn’t making a move to escape. Was this a miracle?

You didn’t dare rejoice early. The situation was still unpredictable. You needed to wait first.

“Is that all?” So you remained calm. You folded your arms across your chest.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, seemingly unsatisfied. He paused before saying, “Good night.”

“Goodnight.” You were halfway through closing the door when Jungkook held the door, stopping you.

"What.”

Jungkook’s lips were pursed into a thin line. You waited for a while. However, you never claimed to be a patient person. You were going to slam the door now. Damn Jungkook and his stupid face.

“One question.”

“What?” You were more confused now. What was this shitty bastard up to!? Did he have a question? If so, why couldn’t he just go straight to the point?

“I don’t want to lie anymore…” Jungkook cleared his throat. He looked you in the eyes. “But I can’t promise to answer all your questions at once. I…”

There was ringing in your ears—as if you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

" I will try my best to answer one of your questions each day.”

It was your turn to be quiet. You didn’t know what to say. Earlier, you were surprised that Jungkook followed you here, fidgeted around you, and stayed the night willingly. Was there a miracle? Was this a fucking joke? Or were you dreaming?

Jungkook called your name tentatively.

You pinched yourself. Aw. You thought. It was real—this was real.

“Is that okay for you?”

There was a slight buffer in your head, and then you realized Jungkook was enquiring about his proposal—how he was willing to answer your question every day.

It felt too good to be true, but you found yourself agreeing.

“It’s okay.” You sucked in a deep breath. “I’d like that.”

Good. Jungkook thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. He only smiled—a second genuine smile for this day. It felt odd, but not in a bad way. He liked smiling for you and Soobin, he realized.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You mimicked Jungkook.

You looked at each other for a while. No words were exchanged.

The silence lasted for a few minutes.

“I should go to bed.” As usual, it was you who broke it.

“Me too,” Jungkook said, but he made no effort to move. “Good night.”

“Good night,” you said, not moving either. You were looking at each other; no one dared to break eye contact.

“Good night,” Jungkook said again, voice much softer this time.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Good night.” You said at last before slowly shutting the door.

Jungkook made no effort to stop you. He let you close the door; your calm eyes were the last thing he saw.

Jungkook let out a breath. Good night, he said, yet it took him an hour to stand in front of your door before retreating to his temporary room.

Good night, indeed.

****

A/N: Will Jungkook stop being an ass? We'll see...we'll see.

What do we think about this chapter? I'm pretty sure there are some typos here, but iamdeadandtired!!! i would probably die if i try to edit this chapter tonight (maybe tomorrow, but gosh i am so busy with work.) i try to update weekly, but :((( next week will be much more hectic for me. work sucks but we live in a capitalistic world...sighs.

As usual, if you have more tag suggestions, do not hesitate to reach out to me. Thanks ~~

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Baggage Chapter List

[icedsodapop]

It should go without saying that race plays a huge factor in all of this, but to state the unspoken: Being white means having systemic advantages people of color can only dream of. Not everyone with the skills to make delicious food will advance their career on merit alone.

It would be ridiculous to claim that people can’t cook whatever they want, and people criticizing cultural appropriation rarely make this point. But perhaps a better starting point is to question who gets to profit off of ethnic cuisines.

(...)

This creates a free-for-all situation where anyone who can manage to make money off of a type of cuisine may do so. We’d like to think that whoever makes the best food rises to the top, but there’s ample data suggesting that white people in the US have a much better chance compared to POC for things like accessing small business loans to start a restaurant or getting a ethnic cookbook publishing deal. 

(...)

At the end of the day, respecting and practicing authentic ethnic culinary arts may put a smile on the faces of POC. But materially, this branding benefits white food creators as they grow their businesses. @logagm has 2.7 million TikTok followers, enough to land lucrative brand sponsorships, attract TV deals, publishing opportunities, or investment in any Korean cooking business endeavor he may pursue in the future. While he cooks just like a Korean ajumma, a Korean ajumma making japchae on TikTok would likely not get the number of views — and the business opportunities they may help secure — he does.

“When a white chef profits off of the cultural capital of someone else’s culture, they should surrender some of that capital,” Adrian De Leon, assistant professor of history at the University of Southern California, told me in a phone call. 

We accept that when white food creators take the time to seriously study ethnic cooking, they are “paying their dues,” but what if white food creators literally paid their dues with money? Or hired and mentored POC to thrive in the industry? Or used their industry influence to lift up POC food creators from the same tradition? Or involved themselves in working with the communities that taught them how to make the delicious food making them rich?

Emphasis added by me

[dairy-farmer]

Tim is owned by Wayne Enterprise. Maybe he was acquired after a Drake Industries takeover, or maybe he was purchased outright by the corporation. Either way, Tim is company property and there’s a collar, microchip, barcode tattoo, and papers all showing his status.

Legally, Tim is just another object. Socially, he’s as low or often lower than a pet. People love pets, after all, more than they love their favorite furniture.

Being owned by a company instead of one person is much less intimate. Tim can’t connect with an owner, can’t dote on them or be extra good to earn privileges. Instead he’s listed in the WE systems as an asset, like a printer or a company car.

He’s inventoried to one of Lucius Fox’s PAs, who’s responsible for keeping him fed and healthy, and checks him out to whoever is responsible for him that day. He gets gifted to high performing employees and is on a rotation with department heads. He’s a team reward after big important projects are finished. Supervisors can submit their employees names to give them a chance to get some time with Tim. He’s under the table sitting board meetings and acquisitions. He’s used as a prop and incentive for important meetings with other companies.

But most often he can be found on the executive floor. The same floor he’s stored/quartered in for easy access. If he’s not scheduled for an event or a lower level day, he’s usually with Bruce Wayne or one of his sons. They’re in very stressful positions, and Tim is for the company’s benefit. Dick oversees PR, Jason the outreach programs, Damian is heading R&D, and Bruce oversees it all.

Tim serves them (and anyone else he’s loaned to) however they want. Kneeling under the desk, bouncing on their lap, bent over the table, any way they want him. He’s got his little dress that displays his tits with a short ruffled hemline that’s easy to flip up over his ass. He’s used every day, multiple times a day. Tim has no idea how many hours he’s spent keeping a Wayne’s cock warm. Board meetings leave him well used and exhausted.

Profits have only gone up since he was acquired. And since he hasn’t ever left the building-company policy forbids it- there’s been a lot less “sick” days taken by the executives. Even Brucie Wayne stopped playing hooky so often.

Tim’s just glad that WE is the one that ended up buying him. He could’ve been purchased by LexCorp or Queen. He can’t leave the building, but at least he’s still in Gotham. And his life is a lot less stressful since all he has to do is what he’s ordered. There’s nothing to overthink now. He finds he quite likes getting fucked. He’ll do anything, and has done everything, to keep the Waynes satisfied.

!!!!!!!!!!!! tim being sold to wayne enterprises when drake industries was being liquidated and cut up to be sold by the slab!!!!😍😍😍😍😍!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! him being the little office play toy and spending his days rolling around on a little mat on the floor of bruce's office, getting fucked by bruce and his sons that have started visiting WE everyday to have lunch with bruce and fuck tim 💖💖💖!!

[gremlingottoosilly]

And they said I couldn't be a psychologist [COD x fem! Reader]

Tired of living with a family that genuinely thinks that being a psychologist is a wild ride to being poor and lonely? Got too many student loans to ever think that you will be able to repay them? Just join the army! Good company, great benefits and lots and lots of travel.

AO3

Characters featured in this chapter: Captain John Price This fanfic will contain incorrect use of psychology, my dead dreams of becoming a therapist instead of a journalist, basically a harem "The only girl on the team" plot and a reader who can't fight to save her life, literally. Each chapter will concentrate on one or few characters at the same time, I hope you will like it!

Google search: average school psychologist salary in my state

Allow Google to search for your location?

Fuck it, the government already know who you are, where you are exactly, and what you will do with this pretty wrecked mental state of mine, if I wouldn’t get an affirmative answer.

School Psychologists made a median salary of $62 000 in 202X.

Google search: average psychologist salary in my state without Master’s degree

National average salary for Bachelors in psychology is: $32,395 per year

Google search: master’s degree psychology how much

Average cost to earn a master’s degree in Clinical Psychology: $62,650

Average cost to earn your doctorate in psychology: $115,500

Google search: how many days can person not eat

Google search: annual striper’s salary

Google search: can I become a stripper if I’m not attractive

Google search: Army enlisting

💬💬💬

In highsight, perhaps, you should have stayed with the stripper option. Sure, it would be a lot more mentally draining, but at least you would make much more money out of the utter humiliation this work would promise to be every day. Military, on the other side of the spectrum, wasn’t really different from being a sex worker – you are still selling your body and mind, still have too much time in a dominantly male field, and will probably experience a lot more patriarchy sausage parties once you get there. The only thing that was different was the employer. 

And tax benefits. 

And health insurance. 

And a special program for those who would like to receive an education after they are done killing people, but don’t want to pay more than 100 000 dollars for a diploma that would look good on exactly one photo on the wall and then would be forgotten by pursuing the career of a sandwich artist. Ah, oh no. Negative thinking again. 

Jesus fucking – oh no, blasphemy, looking not good for your all-american goody-two-shoes portfolio – Christ, you have to get herself together – and at least somewhat presentable, even this would mean very little, considering the fact that for a woman in such masculine field, any signs of traditionally feminine things would be considered a bone thrown to a pack of wolves, but…no, no, no. You can’t have this new age psychology shit while she is on a mission…by being a new age psychologist, enlisted to the army just because you don't want to be a stripper, and too slow to become a good drug dealer. 

Cynthia Cockburn once wrote an essay about women's role in maintaining patriarchy by joining the army. How a lot of females are helping salvage the old system, that has to be put down for good for a long time already – and how this system continuously throws them out, without even acknowledging their input. 

You are wondering, if by applying your makeup right now, you are doing pretty much the same. Ah yes, a woman in a field dominated mostly by psychotic men! Let me just put on my brightest red lipstick, a short that will barely cover anything important and, of course, a pair of heels that would set anyone in the hearing range to a Vietnam flashback even if they never been in Vietnam to begin with. Oh no…is that a risky joke? PTSD is a serious matter, you know. You shouldn’t joke about flying helicopters and war flashbacks – not when the training for the military psychologist courses were so hard, that even you, with your pretty much good mental health, would have to check herself double time for any trauma that the instructor would leave with you. 

Two weeks of torture for an opportunity to apply the blandest eyeshadow known to mankind, the pinkiest lipstick that barely holds any pigments – it’s not like you have money to splurge on something better even given the permission – and a mascara as clear as the mountains fresh air. God – oh no, blasphemy again, you really don’t want to get a good grade with all of these God-fearing old-fashioned men, aren’t you? – you really hated just how bland you look. You feel like one of these girls in your college – with tightest buns, cream sweaters and perfectly high-pitched laugh that would make them desirable for even blander college boys. Ah, how much you hated this place. 

The military base, however, is far worse. 

First, there are just too many people here. Second, everyone looks at you like you are some sort of ghost. Judging by your loosely hanging white doctor’s coat, they aren’t too far from the truth, but it still was weird. And finally, third – you are still not sure that your papers have been sent correctly, and this is even the right place. 

Instructor – a terrible, horrible, horrendous woman – told you that there would be plenty of study material for you here. That with these people, writing your master’s or even doctorate would be a “ ‘king breeze, rookie, if they ain’t decide to eat ya first”. The males around you – and some women, of course, because the newest military recruitment made sure to include as many people as possible, providing everyone with the opportunity to kill people as much as they would want – doesn't sound quite as great material for your research. 

And you are not going back to the fucking college. 

She said that some Captain brought you here specifically – and that higher-ups made him do it, as he was dismissing any previous attempts of sending psychological help for any of his units. So this is going to be a classic conflict between a person and the government – and you, a useless specialist – are going to be stuck in the middle, as long as you don't get shot. Perfect, terrific, just a great fate for someone who got out of college after 4 years of destroying her own hopes and dreams in a giant cell of a US education system. 

You haven’t even met the man before, and now you are sitting here, in the middle of nowhere on this gigantic base. Fighting with the fabric of your clothing – a nice buttoned shirt, nothing that could be considered a provocation from your side, and trying to breath as the reality of the situation is slowly thinking it. 

Breathe in 

You stuck here for only god knows how long – until you either will be dismissed, or decide to go away by your own choice. With people you know nothing about, and who probably doesn’t even want you here. 

Breathe out 

This is a perfect opportunity for you to write your Thesis – just pick one of these perfectly twisted specimens, and make his mental state even worse. Or better, if you would feel nice enough for such hard work. 

Breathe in 

Perhaps, it’s not so bad – only a few years of service, and you will be back in your education. The children and their easily molded minds are waiting for you to be their perfect school psychologist. With average salary of “fuck you and your savings too”.

Breathe out 

Health insurance is nice. Would be even better with some dental insurance, but this is reserved only to soldiers. And you are…well, not a soldier, that is for sure. 

Breathe in 

– Greetings. I suggest you are the mental health expert? 

…and, all of your neatly putted breathing schedule is fucked. Stupid army people and their stupid questions with such nice and deep voices that would make you think of deeply fucked up stuff any other day and…

– Oh, um, yes. A psychologist. And you are..? 

– Captain Price. You have to work in my unit, but I figured out that just sending my men to get you would be too much on your first day. 

– Thank you, I…I would rather greet them myself, that is. I kinda have to. 

He frowned. Oh, great. A perfect example of stoic  fatherly type – the guy who is probably thinks of his soldiers as his kids, definitely don’t have a wife – alive one, at least – and slowly cooking himself alive in a pot full of misery, machism and “I don’t buy any of this mentally ill stuff”.

His mustaches are great though. And a hat. 

– Do you really? 

– Well, I don’t want to earn my paycheck for just sitting around. This would be nice though. 

– In that case, higher-ups would put us both in trouble for this. 

– Do you have anything for me to start working with? Like a personal file or…

– I’ll show you around. 

– Oh. Okay. 

He seems harmless enough. As much as one man wearing a full uniform with too many weapons and a tiny hat could be – but you still feel well protected while walking beside him. With this still hanging loose coat of yours – you’ll have to search for something more adjusted for your tiniest fucking height – you can feel everyone’s gazes on you. Jesus, you will have to work with this many people? Let’s just hope that no one here believes in magic powers of therapy, and you would be pretty much free for any of your working hours. 

— But you do have personal files of your soldiers, right? 

— I thought your people like more of a personal approach? 

— Well, it would be really great, but I need some documents to write off my work and…

— Then you are going to write those documents, kid. I don’t want to scare you, but a young miss like you really wouldn’t want to see real portfolios of my men. 

— Sir, with all honor, I am not a…

– We’re here. 

Oh. Saving you the humiliation of being able to recognise patronizing tones and understanding, that you are, in fact, a kid, a young miss, and generally a useless fucking person. Psychologists in a place, where most of the people probably believe, that getting drunk will save them from nightmares? What a joke. 

At least the office is nice. 

Tidy place, neatly furnished room with a table, a sofa – something right out of Freud’s fantasies. A small empty closet for all three of your psychology books. You can already picture whimsical and fun soldiers laying here, trying so bad not to laugh in your face as you were trying to uncover all of their mental trauma without being strangled to death. 

– Thank you, sir…captain? It’s nice. 

– Not much, but everything that we were able to put when they said that we need a mental expert here. 

– I will try my best not to disappoint you, I promise. 

– You can unpack here, someone will show you the bed later. Still don’t know whether to put you with soldiers or medics. 

– Um…I would really prefer a… A nice and roomy bedroom, preferably with no one to snore alongside you, and definitely not with soldiers who can get the wrong ideas about a nice and sweet lady psychologist sleeping right next to them on their base. Of course, you can’t say that. 

–...I need to gather as much material about them as possible, so it would be really neat to sleep closer to the soldiers. 

You are the architect of your own demise. You and your stupid Thesis that you are not even sure, whether you could write it right now or not.

– Oh. 

He scratched his chin in a manner that you have seen too many times. Do all older males with bears share the same mannerism? 

Then he smiled – a ghostly feature on his face, that almost made him look like he actually wanted you here, and not just putting up with higher-ups bullshit because every special task force needs its psychologist just so the soldiers won’t kill each other on one sunny day. 

– Okay. I’ll think about something, doc. 

– I am not…not a doctor, sir. Not yet, at least. 

– Well, it’s either a doc or a kid. What do ya prefer? 

– Doc would be better. Perhaps, I will earn my doctorate after the service. 

– That’s the spirit, kid. 

– But sir- 

Shit. He is gone already. 

You were never a fan of dad jokes. Or dad types. Or anyone, who is questioning what the fuck you are doing here, even though you spend 4 years fighting for this position in the college. Who cares, if you can’t shoot guns? Words are just as deadly! 

Well, judging by the size of the rifle on the Captain's body, maybe, your words would definitely be less threatening than his guns. But this doesn’t change the whole picture! 

Oh, well. You might as well try to get yourself as comfortable as possible – considering all of the possibilities, they might simply forget that you exist, and you would have to sleep on this tiny couch at least for today. What a great opportunity and definitely something that you spent four years waiting in awe of. Perfect, beautiful, something right from her dreams. 

“You can still get out of here, you know. Just go out of this door and we will never ever speak about joining the military ever again. Trust me, babe, I am your conscience.” 

Oh no. You hated talking with your conscience – mostly because it was an annoying prick, and also because, as studies were showing in many of the presentations you would make for your classes, this is a first sign of not just a person being self-aware, but also the step to being proclaimed a mad man. Even if you are, in fact, a very self-aware and mentally healthy person. Mostly. You liked to think of yourself as one, at least. 

“You don’t want to be here. And you shouldn’t – there is plenty of work outside.” 

Yeah, like a sex job. Or secretary. Or a waiter – what a beautiful line of work for someone already in too much debt to her government. And judging by the already dismissive faces of your parents, going home as a stay-at-home daughter is also not going to be an option. So, go far and beyond. 

You just need to find a few people who would be interested in psychotherapy – how hard is that?

[starcrossed-sky]

The thing is that the four-day work week is, fundamentally, also an education issue, not just a labor rights issue. When you look at it for longer than a string of buzzwords, you cannot miss how deeply entwined the two are. And I don't mean that in a "educate people about the benefits of working less" way.

Because the four-day work week, and other forms of decreasing labor presence and opening up free time, are designed to help our most burned-out work sectors. And yes, many of those are the "lowest skill" jobs (finger quotes featuring heavily in the previous sentence.)

But many of them are also *high* education jobs. We already have difficulty accessing medical care because there aren't enough doctors, and in particular not enough specialist doctors - you might be able to see a general practitioner within the week, but I've had multiple friends who are on waiting lists to see neurologists for six, sometimes eight months. That backlog will only get worse if we push through a four-day work week without consideration for increasing the number of neurologists we have, and the only way to do that is by increasing access to education.

And it's the same story across the board for a lot of our highest-educated - or theoretically highest-educated - professions. Public defenders are underpaid and overrun by their case loads, because law school is $200K and if you have that much in student loans you can't afford to not jump at the highest paying job you can get, and that's not going to be helping Joe Smith with his DUI from a crooked cop. Yes, fixing our justice system's issues would help decrease Amy PubDef's case load - but then there's worker's comp people, medical malpractice people... We need more lawyers who are doing the public good because the ones we have are overworked as it is.

Teachers. Social workers. Therapists. On a systemic level, these jobs are underpaid and overworked, and cutting down to a four-day work week isn't going to decrease the number of people who need them, it's just going to make them have to try and fit five days of work into four to keep up. Unless we can get more of these people into the system, a four-day work week is just shooting them in the foot.

And what is the point of having that extra day off a week, when you can't use it meaningfully to get in to take care of the things you need it for, like seeing a doctor, visiting a lawyer to make a will, going to therapy, and so on without having to schedule one, two, six months in advance?

We need education reform first, or the four-day work week is a pipe dream that will leak suffering all over the people who need it most.

[mastermark1960]

I am a proud American that is shocked by the stupidity of both the left and right.  The left for having no clue about how money works and the right for not stopping the insanity. Abraham Lincoln once said a house divided against itself can not stand. Truer words were never spoken. We are a divided nation due to the political manipulations of the one world order. Our great nation is being eaten alive by the ignorance of the left and right. Ignorance is curable and stupidity is terminal. Please do not be stupid. Contrary to how the left and right thinks deficit spending is not ok. I'm here to inform you that it needs to stop NOW. The way to stop this is not with ever higher taxes but through sound fiscal policies. Corporations need to bring our jobs home. Corporations need to invest in training programs to teach welfare recipients skills allowing them to be productive members of society. A collage education is not a necessary prerequisite to prosperity and in fact has harmed way to many young people.

Ever hear of student loan forgiveness?  Working to better your life and to have pride in their accomplishments needs to be an important goal in rebuilding our great country. Remember this proverb. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

It is an old proverb and should have included women. We as a nation need to teach every American how to fish. We need to dismantle the nanny state so every American, no matter their race, creed, color, or religion, is proud of their country and themselves. The only people we should take care of are those with sever physical or mental disabilities. We also need to stop foreign aid that gives the United States of America no direct benefit. Corporate greed needs to end. Personal greed needs to end. We all need to work together to repair our great country ASAP.  Please read the website main street economics. Get educated on how we are spending ourselves out of a country. I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I am a fiscal conservative. We are currently borrowing money to service the debt and this is not sustainable. If you hate the United States of America please leave. We don't need or want you among us. There is no room for hate of any kind in my great country. We Americans need to work together towards this common goal or face the same fate as the Roman empire.. Thank you for reading my post. I hope everyone has a bright and prosperous future.

[secondhand-snow]

I have a request on mencken: what do you think of reader being his questionably young wife? (This is probably going to end in pwp but i dont mind lol) he likes to show her off and buy her expensive things from the money he pocketed 😂 she's practically his sugar baby but she has a side hustle of being the first lady too

your mind... im obsessed this is such a good dynamic

nsfw | jeryd mencken x f!reader (succession)

The sugar baby comments don’t really get to you anymore. They’re pretty accurate, truth be told. But people don’t need to know that. 

Your relationship with Jeryd Mencken began in your late 20’s, back when you still had a bad dye job, student loans, and a shitty studio apartment. You were employed at a jewelry store, barely making minimum wage, working 9 hour shifts every day just to pay your rent. The first time he came into the store, you treated him like any other customer. Any other incredibly attractive, extremely charismatic, and undoubtedly rich customer. But all the same, when he made his purchase and you parted ways, you never expected to see him again. Until he came back to the store a second time. And a third time. And a fourth, fifth, and sixth time. When he finally asked you on a date his image had already been clouding your sexual fantasies for weeks.

And so started your incredibly complicated romance. Jeryd expected you to be submissive and compliant when you first started going out, basing his speculations on how you’d acted at your job. Let’s just say he was more than surprised when you talked back to him, not afraid to be a brat in public to get what you wanted. This revelation was more of a thrill than a shock. Not only did he get to fuck you so hard the neighbors complained on the noise, he also got to punish you when you acted out. And you acted out a lot. But more than the sex was the attention the pair of you got in public. He’d bring you to his business events, dressing you in expensive silks, showing you off to his colleagues. He loved how amazed his peers got when he arrived with a pretty little doll on his arm, how the women would envy you and the men would crave to be him. 

The gifts started as a reward of sorts. Everytime you accompanied Jeryd to one of these work benefits, everytime you made him look good in public, everytime you were especially well behaved in the open, a present would arrive at your door. Wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with a handwritten note on the top expressing his appreciation, and usually sporting a designer logo of some sort. It began as just a few times a month, but you reacted so happily each time you opened one that he started delivering them almost daily. Oh and he loved when you wore his presents out in public. Most outings with you wearing his gifts would end with him pulling you into a bathroom, car, or empty room, making you thank him for the present while he bent you over and fucked some gratitude into you. He started paying your rent when he convinced you to quit your job, saying that you're too pretty to have to work so hard. And when he sees your apartment for the first time, he immediately insists on finding you a new space. When you can’t find anything you like enough, Jeryd just moves you in with him.

When you finally get married, it’s more a formality than anything else. Your love goes beyond metal bands and a piece of paper. The 5 carat diamond ring does help, though. The wedding happens when Jeryd’s career starts really taking off, when his name starts to seriously come up in political discussions. You both knew he needed a loyal wife to further his traditionalist image, and you were more than capable to play the part. So what if your age gap was controversial, you would make sure every other aspect of your public personas was absolutely perfect. And you did! You wore the business casual skirt suits and attended the charity events. Shit, you even learned about government systems to understand his campaign better. But you can’t tame the perversion away, not completely, not forever. So when Jeryd finally wins the presidency and your lives become semi-private again, it’s a massive relief.

It’s only his first week in the White House when you can’t hold back anymore, sauntering into the Oval Office and kneeling underneath his desk as he works. 

“You missed me this much? Had to come in here while I’m working, couldn’t wait a few hours?” Jeryd’s hand is tangled in your air, slacks around his ankles as you sit on your knees in front of him. You kitten lick at his tip, already red and leaking from your touch as you stroke his shaft languidly. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.”

Your only response is a little smile as you press a teasing kiss to his public bone. Then, you swallow his dick to the base in one movement. His hand tightens in your hair, his head falling back as soft sighs of pleasure leave his plump lips. You’ve done this more times than you can count, having his likes memorized to the point of instinct. You know to cup his balls as you suck his cock, to trace your tongue along that one vein on the underside of his shaft, to hum around his length as he’s fully sheathed in your throat. If you wanted to, you could bring him to release in a matter of minutes. But where’s the fun in that? 

You release him from your mouth with a pop, taking a few seconds to deviously lick the pre-cum on his tip before addressing your husband. 

“You haven’t given me attention in so long…” You lean forwards on your knees, face moving into a pout as you look up at Jeryd with the eyes of a sad puppy. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”

He scoffs at that, but takes the bait enough to pull you into his lap, hand coming to your chin to force eye contact. “Don’t be a brat. Just say you want me to fuck you- without making bullshit excuses.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He captures your mouth in a kiss. 

It's all teeth and tongue, messy and sloppy and charged with passion. Before long he has you bouncing on his cock, face pushed into his shoulder to muffle your moans. You cum once as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then again when he bends you over his desk to fuck you from behind at a brutal pace. You're glad the building is less busy this time of day, since the sounds of wet skin and hushed groans would be unmistakable to anyone passing by. Jeryd finishes inside of you, like always. When he pulls out, he kneels behind you, your ass swaying temptingly side to side in front of him. He spends several minutes collecting any liquid that leaks out of you onto his fingers and fucking it back inside of you, making comments that his cum is too important to waste.

The next morning you wake up to a golden wrapped present on your night stand. Inside, a remote controlled vibrator, and a note with a promise to film next time.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[batboyblog]

I feel like some people can't be/refuse to be educated, or they're deliberately being obtuse because they're trolls, psyops, or they just fell for the trolls and psyops. But its still good to point out where they're wrong and to give actual, you know, facts, for the benefit of other people reading who might actually be reachable.

yeah, I mean I usually ignore them because usually its bad faith and when a post is getting hundreds even thousands of notes in a day you just can't keep up with the 10-20-ish people who say something, particularly if its in the tags because thats just hard or fighting in the replies which always feels weird

But I was in a bad mood and in general seeing the same either bad faith or straight up don't know comment over and over and over again is very annoying

the "lol Joe Biden didn't do anything about Student loans!" one is pretty annoying since Biden has forgiven well over 100 BILLION dollars worth of student loan debt, so like he has done a lot on student loan debt. I'm not a big deal but I remember I did one of my "what Biden did this week" posts and it had the student loan debt forgiveness for people who got defrauded by the Art Institutes, and a few people added their stories of being defrauded and being in debt to AI for years and the one that'll stay with me was an older guy who went to try to get a new degree to get a job in a different field kinda late in the game, his 50s or 60s and of course didn't get the jobs he hoped for because scam college and saying how he thought he'd die in debt and it was all gone, all forgiven. So just like people flippantly dismissing a very real life changing thing is very annoying

there are a few other very common annoying ones "why didn't he do this when he controlled congress before!" well he was busy passing the biggest climate change bill any government on earth has ever done, investing in our Infrastructure for the first time since before Reagan was President (Reagan 😒) listen Biden passed 4 of the biggest most transformationally progressive bills the US has seen since LBJ

American Rescue Plan

Bipartisan Infrastructure Law

CHIPS and Science Act

Inflation Reduction Act

on top of which he passed the first gun control law out of congress in 30 years, and other things, like the Respect for Marriage Act to protect gay marriage, or making Juneteenth a federal holiday (the first new federal holiday since MLK day in 1983)

SO! thats why he didn't do the things he wants to do in his next term he was busy doing equally (and in the case of climate change more important) things and thats why we should all be hopeful if Joe Biden is President with a Democratic Congress he'll get most if not ALL the things on his agenda done, because he's fucking good at this, we haven't had a President this good at pushing bills through Congress and using every switch and lever of the federal government to make major progressive change since LBJ or FDR, I guess his big mistake was naming it something boring like "Inflation Reduction Act" and not something sexy like "New Deal" or "Great Society"

sorry to go off on a tare there, but its just frustrating to see 40 (out of tens of thousands really) posts saying the same dumb shit and having no real way to respond

[jinitak]

This scene is lowkey kinda sad ngl

(This post is a rant)

Context: Thai law still doesn't recognise same-sex marriage, legal gender change, LGBTQIA+ people still don't have the same rights as cisgender heterosexual people.

This scene really resonates with me, the latest attempt at trying to amend the civil code to enshrine marriage equality via court ruling was done by a lesbian couple in 2019.

The fact that we're still fighting for marriage equality here probably is a testament to how conservative the Thai ruling class is. In their decision, the court argues that

Marriage is a union for reproduction -By this logic, people who were castrated or women on birth control should not be able to marry but alas they can. It's not a valid point.

Marriage equality would be a burden to heterosexual couples due to paperwork for welfare and other services -It's not the fucking job of the court to decide that.

Marriage equality would lead LGBTQIA+ people to marry for the welfare (?) -Marrying for welfare is already illegal

Civil Partnership bill has already been introduced -It doesn't give equal rights to LGBTQIA+ couples.

BTW, I was mad in a mall that day reading the ruling, they were so fucking homophobic, it's hate speech. They had shit like only men and women in the world, LGBTQIA+ people are unnatural, that kind of bullshit.

This makes me sad and mad in a way, my mind while watching wandered off and thought about how his mothers would be able to see each other if they were to get admitted to a hospital, how will they be able to build a life together if they couldn't get a mortgage or other types of loans, how would their welfare benefits work, etc.

It angers me that 9 old near dead people who could've decided that people like Mew's mothers could be able to live a life with as much rights and dignity as their heterosexual counterparts but they decided to spew shit from their mouths that is so disgusting, they should not be able to talk again.

Every time I see this kind of scenes it gives me hope that LGBTQIA+ relationships that are not just 2 young men in love would be shed a light on but on the other hand it angers and sadden me to the tenth degree that Thai society still doesn't have a place for them.

[crabs-with-sticks]

The possibility of aromantic living situations

Busy this Valentines Day as an aroace person thinking about the relationship between capitalism, family structures, and property (very normal thing to think about I know). In a book I read recently, The Mushroom at the End of the World; On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, she talks about one of the goals of capitalism is scalability. Scalability is about making sure that a unit can work on every different sized model. Endless growth is an important part of capitalism, and if all your 'units' are the same size, you can easily create the same thing, just bigger, only requiring more of the same parts, rather than creating new parts. E.g. if you have a square block, you can create the exact same shape just bigger (read: making more money) if you have four more of the same square blocks.

The nuclear family is one of those squares that forms the basis of so much of society from housing to child raising to everyday finances. It is no secret that the nuclear family (mum, dad, and kids) is seen as the ideal and moral family structure in most of the west. And colonialism has had a big part in exporting this to other places around the world. But for many people, especially aro folks, this structure just doesn't fit what we want out of life.

And I've just been thinking about how that idea of the nuclear family is related to property and wealth and how it disadvantages queer folks. In the country which I live in, there is a massive housing crisis and owning a house is a pipe dream for many because of the cost. Property is culturally seen as probably the main way in which you build wealth/capital because you don't get taxed on it (there is no property/capital gains tax) and there are SO MANY tax benefits for landlords its insane. So when housing is linked so majorly to wealth and capitalism it makes sense that you would want it to be scalable.

And what is the most scalable living/family structure? The nuclear family. So, since housing is market driven, theres no incentive to create other types of houses/living situations except those designed for the nuclear family. Because property/housing is so ingrained in capitalism, that its an investment, and you want to be going for a big portion of the market.

This just creates an endless cycle of property enforcing traditional nuclear family structures, and nuclear family structures enforcing property. Because there is no incentive to provide anything different and there is limited ability to be anything else. And even if a person, or developer or whatever wants to create something non-typical (e.g. cohousing and coliving, at least in my country) because its not scalable or market friendly, good luck finding a bank to give you a loan, or a developer to work on it, or hell even the government to have proper land classifications to make such a project possible.

It just frustrates me so much as a non-partnering aromantic person because I feel like I have no options and I have to fit my circular shape into a square just so that people can build a bigger model of the exact same thing. And I think its something that we don't talk enough about in the queer community, and that we make ourselves into these square blocks because there is no other way to be, and in doing so just enforcing the very structures that oppress us.

So anyway, rant over. Hopefully my brain dump made sense and resonates with some of y'all. And go read The Mushroom at the End of the World, its really eye opening.

[calicheer-cove]

Select Clientele - Billy Hargrove x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Chrissy has her eyes on Billy. Billy has his eyes on Chrissy. He decides to have a little talk with her. What will be her decision?

Author’s Note: The pool flirting scene, but make it Calicheer. Also let me know if you want a part two.

Summertime in the small town of Hawkins meant something different for everyone. For El and Max, this meant sleepovers and playing around with her powers to spy on the boys. For Dustin this meant computer camp to learn and build with the latest in tech ware. For Will, he was hoping for D&D, while Lucas and Mike wondered if their girlfriends were mad at them. As for the older ones, summer internships and jobs to save up for future endeavors. Billy was more than happy to work as a lifeguard if it meant being out of the house. Chrissy, against her mother’s narrow mindedness, worked at the GAP.

Training alongside her friends was a nice change of pace instead of attending bible camp, again. Utilizing her people skills, practicing money management, and keeping the place in tip top shape made the time roll by. Even on days when only a small handful of customers came over, she was happy to be there. Aside from store discounts, she also had the benefit of stopping by Scoops Ahoy! to meet up with Steve and Robin during her lunch breaks. Harrington went on about his failed love life, while Buckley and her rightfully poked fun at him. Dustin was surprised to see Cunningham, feeling apprehensive at first. In time he was able to see that she was actually a nice person. Chrissy thought of him like a second little brother.

Aside from the mall, the community pool was also another big hot spot. The place to be for fun in the sun, much to the boredom of the juniors and seniors working as lifeguards. They did their training and work of course, their faces indicated that they would rather be anywhere than here. Billy was no different, still at least he was able to earn a little extra money and work on his tan. Billy was not ashamed of how he looked, he took pride in his appearance. A number of the mothers clearly took interest. He offered them a charming smile as he passed by, his face dropping immediately once he turned his back on them. He loved the attention of course, but there was only one set of eyes that Billy wanted on him. Eyes as blue as the ocean beneath the Santa Monica pier in July.

Nancy took in the warmth of the bright sun on her skin. Robin preferred to stay under the umbrella with Vickie, worried that the 50 spf wouldn’t be enough for her; despite her reassurances. Dustin was engaged in a battle of chicken, keeping himself steady on Steve’s shoulders. Making his best attempt to push Will off of Jonathan’s shoulders. Lucas and Mike were showing off in front of Max and El, the two girls focusing on each other rather than their idiot boyfriends. Erica and her friends were more than prepared to make fun of the older Sinclair sibling and his friend.

Chrissy’s nose was firmly in a copy of some trashy romance novel that Heather loaned her. A pretty predictable story, but one that she enjoyed nonetheless. In a small, shanty sea town, a faithful woman of god (who so happens to be a widow) crosses paths with a sexy pirate. He steals her, they go sailing, have sex, and that’s it. The words were enticing, the same could be said for the cover art as well. Muscular man with a tan, long flowing locks of golden, curly hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and he’s wearing a shirt that showed off more cleavage than the lady.

“So how are you liking it so far?” Heather asked, passing over a can of Tab to her.

“It’s good. Captain James is wooing Prudence in his quarters,” Chrissy answered back, eyes going back to the page.

“Ooh, you’re gonna love the next chapter. It’s so hot,” Heather purred, sliding a stick of gum into her mouth.

Chrissy wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of romantic smut, but her curiosity was definitely piqued in freshman year. During a slumber party, Heather shared her mother’s private reading collection and the girls all had a good laugh. Chrissy wasn’t sure what the flowery language meant, but she giggled as well. In sophomore year, she would find a private corner at the public library to read those stories; that is until Heather would offer one to get, in exchange for a little tutoring. As they studied for an upcoming science test, Heather noticed how distracted Chrissy appeared during a session. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Cunningham was crushing on Hargrove as he walked by. Heather, in good fun and genuine curiosity, had questions. Chrissy was easy to read: Cheeks glowing, heart thumping, and scowl that wouldn’t scare a rabbit. Heather swore to tell no one and she kept that promise.

Chrissy peaked over her heart shaped sunglasses at the tanned Adonis. She had an inkling that he was looking at her, despite wearing his aviators. She figured that maybe she wouldn’t register on his love radar, boy was she wrong. Billy wasn’t a stranger to certain members on the cheer team, little flings in between after school practice were commonplace. To his surprise, all she did was offer him a friendly greeting and nothing more. He sat behind her in geometry, staring at the gentle slope of her neck. The curled loop of her ponytail looked so pretty, often accessorized with a scrunchie or a bow. Her perfume smelled expensive, costing more than a six pack, a box of Camels, and gas combined. In the cafeteria their eyes met briefly before she went off with her friends. One of Hargrove’s fellow goons made the fatal mistake of jokingly stating that Billy had a crush on Chrissy. A threat and swift punch to the shoulder was enough to shut him up. Wounded pride aside, it was true; Billy did find her fascinating.

Getting paired up in class for a history project led to conversations, allowing for them to talk; even if it was surface level. They began to converse in the hallway and after school as well. People began to talk, Billy didn’t give a shit, but Chrissy did. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of his mind ordered him to keep her safe. If someone made an inappropriate remark at her, Billy was the first to know. If he noticed that she wasn’t in class, he would ask around. Max kept her distance between her step brother and the cheerleader. She figured it was going to be nothing more than another quick relationship that she would end up having to hear from her bedroom, again. Yet he seemed different around her. The last thing Max could do was bring it up. Still, she found it a little amusing that El didn’t understand what Mayfield meant by “happy screams” and why Chrissy wasn’t making any.

“Chrissy? Hello, earth to Chrissy?” Heather stated as she waved her hand in front of her friend’s face.

“Huh? What?”

She chuckled, “You were totally staring at Billy.”

“I was not,” Chrissy hissed back, her blush betraying her.

“Aww, look at you, you’re blushing.”

She crossed her arms, “No! I- I- I’m sunburned.”

Heather leaned back in her chair, expensive sunglasses perfectly perched upon her nose, “Uh-huh sure, whatever you say. I mean, it’s not like he’s been staring at you since you came in or anything.”

Was he? Chrissy wanted to check, but she didn’t want to be so obvious. She placed her own glasses back up, eyes lingering back to the beautiful man. Solar spectacles on, face on the residents having their fun. No one would ever know about the ocean eyes gazing at the strawberry blonde.

Chrissy inhaled slowly and made her way over to the pool. Fake it til you make it as the old saying goes. For Chrissy, her confidence always shined through whenever she cheered. Her feet and legs gracefully strolled over to the water. His eyes kept his sight on her, his mind taking in each and every step that she took. She dawned a two colored one piece swimsuit, purple and white adorned the fabric. She wondered if it was too revealing due to the revealing neckline and how the suit hugged her rear. Heather and Nancy insisted that she looked amazing, Vickie loved the colors, and Robin was speechless before giving her a compliment (well more of a ramble, but Chrissy still thanked her).

The water felt so welcoming along her skin, allowing her to feel so comfortable and so free. She always loved the water, be it rain, lakes, and whenever she took a bath. As a child, she used to pretend that she was a mermaid swimming far, far away into the endless depths. No more responsibilities, no more worries, and no more stress. She could be her own person with a strong, shining tail and locks as long as a kelp forest. If only this mermaid knew just how much the lonely sailor watched her. Billy slowly removed his sunglasses, admiring the incredible form and movement. Chrissy took to the water like a bird to the air, with ease and strength. Her vibrant eye makeup never washed away, strawberry blonde locks darkened to a warm amber hue. She was radiant, lively, and enchanting.

His job was to focus on everybody at the community pool, yet he simply could not look away. He could hear music playing loudly in his eardrums. The booming of drums, the slick plucking of a bass, the melodic riffing of a guitar, and the amorous lyrics from the vocalist all came together. In his eyes, Chrissy moved in slow motion to the tune of Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded.” As much as he loved Phoebe Cates in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, her presence was no longer lingering in his mind. Chrissy was the one to break the surface of the pool’s water, strutting towards him in a red hot bikini. Manicured fingers carefully unclipping her top from the front to reveal her small and pretty breasts. His whistle seductively brushed along his upper lip and tongue, blowing out a loud tweet. The loudness of reality returned, but he kept his eyes on her. Chrissy used the ladder and was pleased to see him walking over.

“Looking good out there, Chrissy,” Billy stated, unable to keep back his smile.

She couldn’t resist smiling as well, “Thank you.”

He offered her a towel, their hands touched for a moment, “Perfect form.”

She felt the pleasant spark, eyes drifting along his sculpted body before she met his eyes, “Well… your form is amazing.”

Oh god, did she really say that to him? She really said that to him. His smile grew, letting out a mischievous chuckle.

She felt the little twinge of embarrassment, “I’m sorry. I’ve seen you… teaching lessons. Swimming lessons.”

Chrissy looked away briefly, asking for the concrete below her to melt beneath her feet. Maybe getting buried in a rock solid hole would be less painful than this. Yet he was still here, more than ready to engage. She hoped that perhaps he could smooth out the wince inducing matter.

Billy’s toothy grin dropped from humorous to a heart palpitating smirk, “You know, I could uh… I could teach you, if you like.”

Did she hear that right? Or did she imagine those words? He fluttered his long, lovely eyelashes when he spoke. Chrissy stood there with her mouth slightly agape.

“Oh?”

He continued, grin still evident, “I know all the styles. Freestyle.” He took a step closer, his expression neutral; enjoying the way she obediently nodded her head and clutched her towel. “Butterfly.”

Chrissy could hear her heart racing many miles a second. Her brain begged her not to say something stupid again. She could feel her body heat rising. She swore that she could also sense the warm sensation of his body as well, despite the short distance between them. Chrissy was so lost in his eyes that she didn’t notice the fresh stick of gum that he unwrapped and fished from his pocket. Gazing at the thick fingers gently holding the treat beneath his lips.

There it was, that smile, that gorgeously handsome smile, “Breaststroke.”

Chrissy did not blink, fingers loosening up as the air from her lungs momentarily vanished. The sound of her towel plummeting to the hard surface brought her back. She bent down to grab it, finding herself looking at Billy’s face when he helped her; his hand brushing hers once again.

“You okay?” He asked, sounding a little concerned and a bit smug.

She wrapped the towel around her waist, trying to hide her shyness with a friendly disposition, “I didn’t think you- I didn’t think you taught other age groups.”

Billy smacked his lips while he chewed, his breath minty fresh, “Well I offer more uh… advanced lessons to select clientele.”

He looked her directly in her gleaming eyes, he could see her demeanor change. Any time they spoke, even if it was just for a few minutes, Chrissy noticed how she felt a little light headed. Being in such close proximity made her lower half pulsate, a feeling that would continue to plague her long after they spoke.

His voice became as soft as the wind, Pacific blue eyes drilling into her soul, “Come to think of it, there is a good pool out at a Motel 6 on Cornwallis. It’s very quiet. You know, very private. Shall we say tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Chrissy’s brain reminded her to breathe, her ears focusing on the sound of his deep, gentle tone amidst the noise of summer fun. She could feel her head nodding, having to stop herself when she gave him a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He sounded heartbroken, it was all an act of course, one that made her laugh, “Can’t what? Have fun? Chrissy Cunningham.”

She felt so weird in this unusual predicament, yet she couldn’t help but enjoy this extra attention that he was giving her. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Billy to flirt with others, but she couldn’t imagine herself being with him romantically; and yet her mind did wander to that possibility.

Chrissy ran her nails through her soaked locks, doing her best to calm down her racing heart beat, letting out another chuckle, “No. I… I… I just, uh… I don't think I need any lessons.”

How strange. Her voice sounded different. Breathy and just a little seductive. Billy liked that, he really liked it.

He was closer to her, truly towering over Chrissy, “Oh, you see, I think you do. I just don’t think that you’ve had the right teacher.”

She gulped, this was really happening, “I, uh-”

The smug bastard showed off his best smirk, his voice was like caramel, rich and smooth, “It will be the workout of your life.”

Chrissy wondered if it was possible for a human heart to thrust back and forth through one’s chest the way a cartoon character’s heart does. His wolfish demeanor should have disgusted her, but she couldn’t lie to herself, she was enjoying this. Yet she could sense the judgemental eyes of everyone around her. As if she were bare before all of Hawkins, a sensation that haunted her in life and in her dreams.

Chrissy gasped when she felt Heather’s grasp on her arm, “Hey Billy, don’t you have some cougars to flirt with?”

He rolled his eyes, “Speaking of cougars, how’s your mom doing?”

Heather scowled at him, “You’re such a prick.”

“Well, I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a job to do. See you later, Chrissy,” Billy stated before heading back to his station.

Chrissy covered herself with the towel, “Thanks Heather.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, “Yes, I’m fine. Just um… I don’t know… kinda weird right now.”

[drdemonprince]

my thoughts and values align with yours re: STIs and risk AND i keep coming up against resistance to the recent discussions as a high-risk person still living almost entirely isolated amidst the ongoing pandemic. and when i take a second to breathe and think, i realize these are not conflicting at all. the friction isn't that i view illness morally or that i think we should avoid all risk. it's that the majority of folks without question take precautions to reduce STI exposure but the majority of people no longer consider doing the so minorly inconvenient precautions to reduce the spread of covid, which i would argue is much riskier than STIs at this point. and it's so exhausting because then i have to, based on my risk analysis of covid, take way more precautions because no one else is looking out for me. community care and harm reduction are my biggest driving values and i grieve how absent they are around me. i just wanted to share in case others are feeling similarly while reading this discussion. you rock and i so hope i get to engage in a beautiful public kinky scene some day.

Hey, thanks so much for sharing and walking us through your thought process.

What I might add is that individual people might not seemingly put much effort into COVID mitigation anymore because they have next to zero institutional support in doing so. Many of my disabled friends have to work in areas with a high risk of COVID exposure: waiting tables, stocking grocery store shelves, working as home health aids or phlebotomists, or teaching in schools. Some of them are high risk themselves, but because they have no choice but to work in areas where their life is put on the line, they have very high stress decompression needs and feel already resigned to their disposability in society, and so they do also go out to bars with their friends or hold parties or visit clubs.

I also know people who are able to socially distance quite strictly, test regularly, are vaccinated and boosted, but who intentionally make plans to visit cruising spaces or gay orgies very rarely so that they can remain relatively safe COVID wise but also not kill themselves out of despair (I'm not being hyperbolic here, that's exactly what some people have told me are the competing risks they face when they balance COVID exposure against isolation. And I know that many high risk populations face these same severe negative mental health outcomes too -- in fact, I know high risk people who choose to go out in public at times in order to remain sane, but who have to sit with the fact that it could be a mortal danger to do so).

I also think about how the queer community came together in the fight against AIDS to make condoms available, to educate one another about safer sex practices or harm reductionist practices, to engage in sex together in risk mitigating ways (such as gloved fisting) and how they pushed for the government to make drug treatment available to them. I see a lot of queer and disabled advocacy groups doing similar work today to spread accurate data on COVID as best they can, promote masking, organize solely outdoor events, encourage vaccination, and remind people of the stakes.

And I see such a massive gap between the ways in which risk mitigation was made possible through such community efforts, and how catastrophically the government fails us regarding COVID. We are not given free tests anymore. Vaccines aren't free anymore either. It is no longer a state of emergency. Many of us have been forced back into in-person work at our jobs. Our unemployment benefits have been cut. Student loan payments are roaring back into action. Disability benefits and medicare's expansion is rolling back. We no longer have accurate testing and tracing data. Masks are no longer required.

If a person wants to behave responsibly regarding COVID, how are they even supposed to? They can wear a mask in public and not experience in-person community to the extend they might like or need. But they can't actually prevent themselves from getting or spreading the virus because they've been forced back to work. I understand many people do not even take these small steps to reduce harm and that it is dismaying and outrageous. And I think you have ever right to feel outraged by it. But I also think individual behavior flows from social support and institutional pressure, and nearly all of that is heading in the wrong direction right now.

And I think about how collective the push for better government interventions regarding AIDS was, and how much the push regarding COVID instead is focused on targeting individual people for the actions they've made within a very unsupportive context. It was not beneficial to view individuals who had bareback sex or shot heroin as the origin of HIV, and I don't think it's helpful to understand COVID as a phenomenon of individuals failing to mask now.

Granted, it took HIV activism YEARS to get to the point of ACT UP. And we're not so many years deep into COVID yet comparatively. Personally when I look at all these facts in context I see a population that largely did take COVID seriously for a time, but who, due to a mix of institutional failure, mass misinformation, risk resignation, and despair, no longer do so in their behavior.

I don't believe in moralizing emotions and I think from your perspective you're affected by all these factors PLUS the massive risk of developing Long Covid symptoms or worse. And I know you know and live all this shit already so forgive me for preaching to the choir. But I do want to gently push back against the idea that most people don't care about COVID the way they care about STI's. I believe our discourse on both has been horrifically poisoned by individualism, capitalism, and institutional failure.

Some articles I have written on the subject: