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#go little tax evader
comradejoanmir · 2 years
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Monaco might be boring as a race but it has this air of specialness that literally no other circuit can replicate there’s something about her….
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nerdpoe · 1 year
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Danny and Dani and Dan get Alfreded in three fell swoops
So like, sad time, but Alfred dies while Bruce is doing his world tour. He never survived long enough to see Bruce become Batman. Died alone in the Manor, after a particularly nasty fall and a broken neck.
But that was unacceptable.
Master Bruce, insufferable boy, could not lose another paternal figure in his life. Also the Manor was still a mess, and Bruce would need someone to make sure he didn't accidentally poison himself.
So he hid his corpse on the Manor grounds, and got to work.
And he was so glad he stayed; sure, it had taken a bit to stop glowing, but really the floating thing was amazingly helpful in reaching the chandelier, and after Master Bruce had returned he had gotten so many grandchildren.
Fast forward; Danny defeated Pariah Dark, he is Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, Dan is attempting reformation and is technically a Prince by relation, and Dani is attempting to be Dan's parole officer and is definitely a Princess 100% she never forgets that no sir.
And Danny gets approached by some of the Observants, and they tell him that there is a very powerful ghost in Gotham, one that fully and completely blends in with humans and really needs to come to the Infinite Realms to complete his paperwork. But whenever they show up, this ghost thinks that they're there to force him to stay in the Infinite Realms.
And he kicks their asses.
Brutally.
For a bit he had a tiny kid ghost with him kicking their asses as well, but the kid randomly disappeared one day.
The Observants very clearly outline that this ghost is not Gotham herself, although the tax-evading criminal has been seen having tea with her.
Danny has no desire to deal with this; he just graduated high school and needs to focus on what college he's going to choose, so if Dan or Dani want to throw hands with some weird Gotham Ghost then by all means. Fuck taxes anyways, what did the Zone even take for taxation, what-?
So Danny splits his time college hunting and trying to find out how tax laws work in the Ghost Zone.
Dani goes to the old man first, and Alfred promptly sits her down and gives her cookies and hot chocolate, treats her like the kid she's never been treated like between Vlad and all of the Zone focusing on the Princess thing, and she feels at home for the second time in her half-life.
Dani gets a call from a nervous Observant, and promptly tells him she isn't going back either so nyah.
Dan goes to pick her up, and Alfred asks him if he is quite alright, he looks rather tense, and that if it is a fight he wants then the Justice League could probably use a new member, after all Alfred knows an upstanding young man when he sees one, and clearly Dan just needs a chance to prove to himself that he can be good.
Just like another young man Alfred knows.
Dan gets a call from a nervous Observant, and tells them that he's a little busy stopping an alien invasion, and is a tentative member of the Justice League now so he doesn't have time for their bullshit.
Also fuck taxes.
Finally, Danny has no choice.
He goes to drag this random old man and his little sister back to the Zone himself.
Alfred takes one look at him and slowly slides a flier for Gotham University across the kitchen island.
"Your younger sister speaks well of you," the dead butler says, eyes beaming, "and I believe that, given what she has said, you qualify for one of the Wayne Educational Grants for a full ride, so to speak."
Alfred never gets dragged into the Ghost Zone, although eventually he does learn that they weren't trying to drag him into the Land of the dead but were just trying to get him to do paperwork.
He never goes.
Bruce, however, is very fucking confused as to where these strange kids came from.
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h4m1lt0ns · 6 months
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LOVE HATE — LH°44
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴lewis hamilton x monégasque!ferrari!y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔another day, another bickering contest between everyone’s favourite rivals who we all want to end up together.
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ dina denoire.
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕cussing, fluff, supernatural references and spoilers.
y/n
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♡ liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, 3,201,954 others.
y/n when you forget that monaco is the size of a needle’s eye so u keep running into the mf u hate ﹫lewishamilton
593,203 comments.
lewishamilton 🙄🙄🙄
username these two are unreal 😭
username ﹫mercedesamgf1 ﹫scuderiaferrari THEY’RE FIGHTING AGAIN
lewishamilton you literally could’ve vacationed anywhere else
➜ y/n I LIVE HERE????
➜ lewishamilton so what i’m a registered citizen too 🤨
➜ y/n i’m literally monégasque the rest of you are just tax evaders 🙄🙏
➜ username JDJAIQOKWJDJW
➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO
➜ username CALLED OUT THE WHOLE GRID
username can u two just kiss already like ???
username y/n and her emotional support rival 💔💔💔💔💔💔
username funny they act like this we all know you two can’t live without each other 🥱
username when the enemies to lovers is taking too long in the enemies stage 😐
lewishamilton also would appreciate it if you stop coming to my favourite coffee shop, that’s MY spot 🙏🏾
➜ y/n THE OWNER LITERALLY NAMED THE PLACE AFTER ME ????
➜ lewishamilton damn 🙏🏾 too bad it’s MY favourite place
➜ y/nscoffeehouse it’s okay sir Lewis, we like mercedes too!
➜ y/n blocking all of you
➜ username ALWOSJWA
➜ username they literally can’t escape each other 😭
➜ username oh to have a coffee shop in monaco be name after me
username mom and dad are fighting again what’s new
username how is lewis gonna name y/n as his arch nemesis yet she’s the only person he follows like ???
➜ username no bc make it make sense
charles_leclerc can you two act normal for once
➜ y/n NO HE’S SO ANNOYING
➜ lewishamilton oH SO IM THE ANNOYING ONE NOW
➜ y/n you’ve always been 🙏❤️
➜ lewishamilton oh fuck off
➜ y/n you first 🙄
username they’re in love your honour ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️😍😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
username how to fast forward to the part where they’re in love with kids and a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere???
lewishamilton by the way your hair looked ugly
➜ y/n ﹫sebastianvettel LOOK AT THIS
➜ sebastianvettel ﹫lewishamilton I taught you better
➜ lewishamilton ﹫y/n OH SO WERE SNITCHING NOW?
➜ y/n stfu u started
username my parents 😍😍😍😍😍
username lewis is just like me 🤞🏽 however i can admit that i’m in love w y/n
scuderiaferrari this shouldn’t be this entertaining 🍿
➜ mercedesamgf1 real
➜ username EVEN THE ADMINS GAVE UP LOL
lewishamilton
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♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 3,203,103 others.
lewishamilton she actually isn’t that bad when she’s quiet ﹫y/n
933,120 comments.
y/n i told you i’m a nice person you just need to shut the fuck up to find out 😍
➜ lewishamilton there is NO point in being nice to you
➜ sebastianvettel stop you two
➜ sebastianvettel do I need to make you hold hands like little kids again?
➜ y/n no seb :(
➜ lewishamilton …no sry seb
username SEB MADE THEM HOLD HANDS 😭
➜ username expediting the enemies to lovers process for everyone’s mental health i see 😁
➜ username HALLELUJAH WERE GETTING SOMEWHERE
➜ username 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽
georgerussell63 they can get along ????
➜ landonorris shocked me too ngl
username now that they’re civil someone quickly make them sign some marriage papers
y/n never going hiking with you again i almost died
➜ lewishamilton lmao bc u scraped ur knee on a rock?
➜ y/n an eagle snached ur hat and almost took the last five hairs you have but do you see me talking abt that??
➜ lewishamilton sorry miss y/l/n 🧎🏾
➜ y/n good to know.
➜ username LAST FIVE HAIRS Y/N IM SCREAMINGGGGGGG
➜ username this interaction is everything.
username CAN THEY KISS ALREADY OMFG
y/n wait where did you go ﹫lewishamilton
➜ lewishamilton in the living room !!!!!
➜ username that’s a slutty amount of exclamation marks sir 🤨
username THEY’RE IN THE SAME HOUSE???
➜ username THEY’RE IN LEWIS’ HOUSE???
➜ username FORCED PROXIMITY ENEMIES TO LOVERS????
username if they don’t end up together i don’t know what i’ll do with myself
username ﹫sebastianvettel set them up or do something bro c’mon
➜ sebastianvettel tried that years ago
➜ username HUUUUUHHHH??!?!,!?!???
➜ username “TRIED” 😭😭😭😭
➜ username BABE WAKE UP NEW LEWY/N LORE DROPPED
➜ username OMFGGGGGG
lewishamilton ﹫y/n where the fuck did you go
➜ y/n u have a nice ass balcony
➜ lewishamilton get ur ass inside bc roscoe is looking for u
➜ y/n 🤨
➜ lewishamilton please come inside, your son looks sad without you because he misses you 🖤
➜ username ROSCOE IS LOOKING FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔
username “your son” PLS OMFG
username god JUST ADMIT YOURE INLOVE WITH EACH OTHER
username it’s been years i can’t take this torture any longer
username omw to monaco to make these two fall in love
username can you AT LEAST fall in love for roscoe??? like my boy is a child of divorce
username “your son looks sad without you” MY HEART JUST GREW THREE TIMES ITS SIZE 🥲🥲🥲🥲
username roscoe hamilton y/l/n be the matchmaker we need 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
username SEB TRIED TO SET THEM UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
➜ fernandoalo_oficial trust me we all have
➜ username HELLO?????
➜ username THIS IS SO ???????
➜ username OH MY GOD. ALL OF YOU??
➜ fernandoalo_oficial me, seb, jenson, toto, mattia, pretty much the whole grid
➜ username YOURE JOE KING.
➜ username WOAHHHHHH THERE NANDO
➜ username try again bestie nando 🙏🏽❤️
➜ username one more try won’t hurt king alonso
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y/n
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♡ liked by carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 4,103,855 others.
y/n learning to tolerate ﹫lewishamilton (who is is decent enough) bc roscoe is the love of my life 🤍🐾
1,294,685 comments.
lewishamilton you finally admit it 😐
➜ y/n i tolerate u for roscoe bc that’s my baby
username he’s actually great y/n 😁 ‼️he’s a (eight) seven time wdc, has great fashion, great music taste, his dog considers you his mom, has probably been in love with you for the past five to seven years, and he’s really fucking hot !! give him a chance 😁🙏🏽❤️
➜ username and he’s a really good person!!
➜ username + cute english accent as well
➜ username his hair is rly nice too!!!!!!
➜ username he also makes music sometimes
➜ username i see we’re all desperate to get these two idiots together
➜ username yes 😔
username ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERSING FINALLY THE SLOW BURN IS OVER 🥹
lewishamilton i’m a joy to be around wdym decent enough
➜ y/n you think you’re a joy ???
➜ lewishamilton i think i’m adorable 😁🙏🏾
➜ y/n wait is that a dean winchester reference
➜ lewishamilton …no.
➜ y/n yOU WATCHED SUPERNATURAL
➜ lewishamilton what was i supposed to do?? you wouldn’t shut up abt it 🙄
username HE 😭 WATCHED 😭 SUPERNATURAL 😭 FOR 😭 HER 😭
username they’re MY old married couple thank you 🤨❤️
username lewis watched supernatural bc y/n wouldn’t stop talking abt it 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
➜ username and he’s making references 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔
➜ username MY PARENTS YOUR HONOUR
username what these bitches have is what i truly want in life, dear god.
username 🕯 manifesting they magically get together 🕯
username they just won’t admit they’re in love huh 😕
username one of you better make a move or i will
scuderiaferrari this has been the most interesting thing to happen this season i want to stay here forever
➜ username LMFAO ADMIN IS SO REAL
➜ username ITS YOUR TURN TO SET THEM UP
➜ username YEAH IT MIGHT WORK
➜ mercedesamgf1 it’s been years we all gave up
➜ username there’s really no hope huh
➜ username shhhhh my delulu says there is
➜ username ur delulu is deluluing
susie_wolff these two 🙄
➜ username even susie has had enough
➜ username mother susie please do something
➜ susie_wolff you think I haven’t tried?
➜ username I’VE OFFICIALLY LOST HOPE.
➜ username OH MY GOD 😭
➜ username the fact that the entire grid has tried to set them up ????
lewishamilton your son misses you btw.
➜ y/n i miss him too.
➜ username roscoe and i are children of divorce.
➜ username we all are.
lewishamilton
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♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 7,294,103 others.
lewishamilton she’s the jo harvelle to my dean winchester
tagged: y/n
1,699,505 comments.
y/n three years of pretending i hate u is enough of a soft launch right ???
➜ username FYM THREE YEARS???
➜ username THREE WHAT NOW.
username LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE GOT THEM 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
pierregasly FINALLY.
mickschumacher THANK GOD I DONT THINK I COULD’VE BEEN ABLE TO SHUT UP FOR ANY LONGER
charles_leclerc the amount of time i’ve been threatened by y/n to stay quite requires compensation 😭 i’m so happy the secret’s finally out
➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO PLS
username HARDEST LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY??????????
username THE I LOVE MY GF MEME???? LEWIS WHO HAVE YOU BECOME.
username the fact that i’m surprised is almost offensive 😀
fernandoalo_oficial about fucking time
landonorris took long enough oh my god
➜ sebastianvettel all you did was watch them try to hide their relationship, be grateful you didn’t witness them deny being in love with each other between 2016 and 2019
➜ landonorris IT WAS WORSE THAN THIS?
➜ sebastianvettel oh boy, you haven’t seen anything
➜ username seb is sick and tired 😭
➜ username no bc 2016-2019 was something else frfr 😭😭😭
username YESSSSSSS OMFG FINALLY
username THREE YEARS??? THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR THREE YEARS????
➜ username HOW WERE THEY ABLE TO HIDE FOR THREE YEARS
➜ username HOW DID THEY EVEN PULL THIS OFF
username i can FINALLY sleep peacefully at night
lewishamilton wait so is roscoe technically jack or ben??
➜ y/n jack for sure, ben is barely relevant and roscoe is too famous and loved for that
➜ username “ben is barely relevant” i screamed.
➜ username they sold me. i’m watching supernatural tonight.
➜ username NO BC SAME.
username WE ARE NO LONGER CHILDREN OF DIVORCE ‼️‼️‼️😁😁😁😁🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
danielricciardo i would’ve lost my mind trying to remain quite for longer
➜ carlossainz55 I think we can all agree on this one (I too, have been threatened by y/n 😐)
jensonbutton this deserves a literal celebration, we are exhausted.
➜ username I LOVE HOW EVERYONE HAS HAD ENOUGH LMFAO
➜ username RIGHT LIKE THEYRE SO OVER IT LMAO
y/n jo literally had the most unfair death in the whole show ???
➜ lewishamilton can we not be cute FOR ONCE
➜ y/n tbf jo and dean would’ve been endgame
➜ lewishamilton there you go 😍😍😍
username MY PARENTSSSSSSSSS
username YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK UP 🔥🔥🔥🔥
georgerussell63 WE DONT HAVE TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS ANYMORE 🥳
username is this … happiness? mercedes and ferrari fans are…. happy?
➜ username i sense a disturbance in the force
➜ username the happiest we’ll be all season LMAO
➜ username REALLLLL LMFAO
y/n you’re all mine 💕
➜ lewishamilton yours 🤞🏾
➜ y/n WAIT I CAN SAY THAT PUBLICLY NOW
➜ y/n GUYS HE’S MY BF 🤍🤍🤍🤍
➜ y/n AND I LOVE HIM 🤍🤍🤍 A LOT
➜ username SHE SAID IT!!! SHE SAID IT!!
username a hard launch for the books ong
username i’ve never been happier to see two people in love in my life
➜ username no literally
username AMENNNNNNNNN
username god i see what you did to other people
mercedesamgf1 toto says congratulations 🥳👏🏽
➜ mercedesamgf1 and that he was sick of his favourite couple hiding their love
➜ username EVERYYYYYYBODY IS TIRED HUH
➜ scuderiaferrari each and every one of us. exhausted. sick even.
➜ username oh y’all’s therapists have therapists 😭
lewishamilton okay stop looking at MY girl guys 🙄
➜ username “MY GIRL” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
➜ username OUR girl lew 🤞🏽
➜ lewishamilton no.
➜ username fym no?? sir she was our gf before she was became yours 😐
➜ lewishamilton well she’s MINE now so 🥰
➜ username okay jealous icon 😁🙏🏽
➜ username the fact he uses emojis so unironically well now bc of y/n is irritating like i can hear him say that lmfao
➜ y/n he may be an old man but that’s MY old man 🥰
➜ username this is everything.
➜ username 😭😭😭😭😭😭
➜ username “MY old man” 💔💔💔💔💔
2K notes · View notes
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Microsoft put their tax-evasion in writing and now they owe $29 billion
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I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.
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If there's one thing I took away from Propublica's explosive IRS Files, it's that "tax avoidance" (which is legal) isn't a separate phenomenon from "tax evasion" (which is not), but rather a thinly veiled euphemism for it:
https://www.propublica.org/series/the-secret-irs-files
That realization sits behind my series of noir novels about the two-fisted forensic accountant Martin Hench, which started with last April's Red Team Blues and continues with The Bezzle, this coming February:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues
A typical noir hero is an unlicensed cop, who goes places the cops can't go and asks questions the cops can't ask. The noir part comes in at the end, when the hero is forced to admit that he's being going places the cops didn't want to go and asking questions the cops didn't want to ask. Marty Hench is a noir hero, but he's not an unlicensed cop, he's an unlicensed IRS inspector, and like other noir heroes, his capers are forever resulting in his realization that the questions and places the IRS won't investigate are down to their choice not to investigate, not an inability to investigate.
The IRS Files are a testimony to this proposition: that Leona Hemsley wasn't wrong when she said, "Taxes are for the little people." Helmsley's crime wasn't believing that proposition – it was stating it aloud, repeatedly, to the press. The tax-avoidance strategies revealed in the IRS Files are obviously tax evasion, and the IRS simply let it slide, focusing their auditing firepower on working people who couldn't afford to defend themselves, looking for things like minor compliance errors committed by people receiving public benefits.
Or at least, that's how it used to be. But the Biden administration poured billions into the IRS, greenlighting 30,000 new employees whose mission would be to investigate the kinds of 0.1%ers and giant multinational corporations who'd Helmsleyed their way into tax-free fortunes. The fact that these elite monsters paid no tax was hardly a secret, and the impunity with which they functioned was a constant, corrosive force that delegitimized American society as a place where the rules only applied to everyday people and not the rich and powerful who preyed on them.
The poster-child for the IRS's new anti-impunity campaign is Microsoft, who, decades ago, "sold its IP to to an 85-person factory it owned in a small Puerto Rican city," brokered a deal with the corporate friendly Puerto Rican government to pay almost no taxes, and channeled all its profits through the tiny facility:
https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher
That was in 2005. Now, the IRS has come after Microsoft for all the taxes it evaded through the gambit, demanding that the company pay it $29 billion. What's more, the courts are taking the IRS's side in this case, consistently ruling against Microsoft as it seeks to keep its ill-gotten billions:
https://www.propublica.org/article/irs-microsoft-audit-back-taxes-puerto-rico-billions
Now, no one expects that Microsoft is going to write a check to the IRS tomorrow. The company's made it clear that they intend to tie this up in the courts for a decade if they can, claiming, for example, that Trump's amnesty for corporate tax-cheats means the company doesn't have to give up a dime.
This gambit has worked for Microsoft before. After seven years in antitrust hell in the 1990s, the company was eventually convicted of violating the Sherman Act, America's bedrock competition law. But they kept the case in court until 2001, running out the clock until GW Bush was elected and let them go free. Bush had a very selective version of being "tough on crime."
But for all that Microsoft escaped being broken up, the seven years of depositions, investigations, subpoenas and negative publicity took a toll on the company. Bill Gates was personally humiliated when he became the star of the first viral video, as grainy VHS tapes of his disastrous and belligerent deposition spread far and wide:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/12/whats-a-murder/#miros-tilde-1
If you really want to know who Bill Gates is beneath that sweater-vested savior persona, check out the antitrust deposition – it's still a banger, 25 years on:
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2020/09/revisiting-the-spectacular-failure-that-was-the-bill-gates-deposition/
In cases like these, the process is the punishment: Microsoft's dirty laundry was aired far and wide, its swaggering founder was brought low, and the company's conduct changed for years afterwards. Gates once told Kara Swisher that Microsoft missed its chance to buy Android because they were "distracted by the antitrust trial." But the Android acquisition came four years after the antitrust case ended. What Gates meant was that four years after he wriggled off the DoJ's hook, he was still so wounded and gunshy that he lacked the nerve to risk the regulatory scrutiny that such an anticompetitive merger would entail.
What's more, other companies got the message too. Large companies watched what happened to Microsoft and traded their reckless disregard for antitrust law for a timid respect. The effect eventually wore off, but the Microsoft antitrust case created a brief window where real competition was possible without the constant threat of being crushed by lawless monopolists. Sometimes you have to execute an admiral to encourage the others.
A decade in IRS hell will be even more painful for Microsoft than the antitrust years were. For one thing, the Puerto Rico scam was mainly a product of ex-CEO Steve Ballmer, a man possessed of so little executive function that it's a supreme irony that he was ever a corporate executive. Ballmer is a refreshingly plain-spoken corporate criminal who is so florid in his blatant admissions of guilt and shouted torrents of self-incriminating abuse that the exhibits in the Microsoft-IRS cases to come are sure to be viral sensations beyond even the Gates deposition's high-water mark.
It's not just Ballmer, either. In theory, corporate crime should be hard to prosecute because it's so hard to prove criminal intent. But tech executives can't help telling on themselves, and are very prone indeed to putting all their nefarious plans in writing (think of the FTC conspirators who hung out in a group-chat called "Wirefraud"):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/
Ballmer's colleagues at Microsoft were far from circumspect on the illegitimacy of the Puerto Rico gambit. One Microsoft executive gloated – in writing – that it was a "pure tax play." That is, it was untainted by any legitimate corporate purpose other than to create a nonsensical gambit that effectively relocated Microsoft's corporate headquarters to a tiny CD-pressing plant in the Caribbean.
But if other Microsoft execs were calling this a "pure tax play," one can only imagine what Ballmer called it. Ballmer, after all, is a serial tax-cheat, the star of multiple editions of the IRS Files. For example, there's the wheeze whereby he has turned his NBA team into a bottomless sinkhole for the taxes on his vast fortune:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#economic-substance-doctrine
Or his "tax-loss harvesting" – a ploy whereby rich people do a "wash trade," buying and selling the same asset at the same time, not so much circumventing the IRS rules against this as violating those rules while expecting the IRS to turn a blind eye:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/24/tax-loss-harvesting/#mego
Ballmer needs all those scams. After all, he was one of the pandemic's most successful profiteers. He was one of eight billionaires who added at least a billion more to his net worth during lockdown:
https://inequality.org/great-divide/billionaire-bonanza-2020/
Like all forms of rot, corruption spreads. Microsoft turned Washington State into a corporate tax-haven and starved the state of funds, paving the way for other tax-cheats like Amazon to establish themselves in the area. But the same anti-corruption movement that revitalized the IRS has also taken root in Washington, where reformers instituted a new capital gains tax aimed at the ultra-wealthy that has funded a renaissance in infrastructure and social spending:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income
If the IRS does manage to drag Microsoft through the courts for the next decade, it's going to do more than air the company's dirty laundry. It'll expose more of Ballmer's habitual sleaze, and the ways that Microsoft dragged a whole state into a pit of austerity. And even more importantly, it'll expose the Puertopia conspiracy, a neocolonial project that transformed Puerto Rico into an onshore-offshore tax-haven that saw the island strip-mined and then placed under corporate management:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#que-viva-albizu
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/13/pour-encoragez-les-autres/#micros-tilde-one
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My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
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withacapitalp · 5 days
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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 20
Part Nineteen Part One Link to ao3
A huge thank you to so many people but it's especially @thefreakandthehair for betaing, being the best, and generally encouraging all of my nuttiness. Also a big shout out to Bowie ( don't remember your Tumblr my lovely!!) for doublechecking some sensititvity reading for me. Y'all rock!!!
Jeff had the decency to wait until Frank was safely in his house before he called Eddie out on his shit. 
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jeff sighed the second the door closed behind Frank, leaving only the snow, Eddie’s headlights, and two best friends about to have an incredibly awkward conversation. 
“Driving you dicks home?” Eddie tried, hoping that he could fool Jeff into not having the uncomfortable conversation that was already beginning. He kicked the van into reverse, throwing a hand casually over Jeff’s seat as he turned and began to maneuver his way back to the road. 
“Eddie.”
It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything really. Just his name, nothing more, nothing less, but it was Jeff’s tone. 
That voice, the voice he always used when he was trying to cut through Gareth and Eddie’s bullshit. Corroded Coffin had lasted all these years because of balance. Frank was their rock, steady and sure; Eddie and Gareth were the stream, bouncing and playing and whirling around in a daze; but Jeff was the earth around them. Jeff was everything, and Eddie might be their leader, but Jeff was the one that held everything together. 
And he was the only one who could get Eddie to drop the act with just one word. 
“Honestly, dude? I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Eddie sighed, slightly curling in on himself as he focused on the road. The snow was only mildly awful at the moment, but winter in Indiana could turn on a dime and Eddie wasn’t looking to run his van off the road just because Jeff was grilling him about his stupid little completely non-existent crush. 
“Well, what do you want from him?” Jeff asked, dragging the first word slowly out as he thought about what he wanted to say. Sometimes the other members of Hellfire would do things like that— talk slow or choose words carefully, just to try and avoid Eddie’s sparky temper. 
Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already worked up about this particular topic. 
“Great question!” Eddie snapped, going to throw his hands up before choosing to be wise and hold the wheel steady. A small squall was beginning to form around them, and his visibility was starting to cut to next to none.
“Okay, okay,” Jeff said, placating to Eddie’s need to be a bit of an asshat, “So what happened between you and Steve that’s got Gareth so pressed?”
If it was any other person in the car with him, Eddie might have been able to fake it. Even Frank might have fallen for a lie about Gareth’s hatred of jocks and conformity and how Steve was just a representation of that. 
But it was Jeff. Jeff, who was their Earth, who knew that Gareth’s grudge wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t motivated by protectiveness. That the only reason Gareth wouldn’t have started to warm up even a little bit was his need to make sure his people were safe. 
Few things in life were assured, but death, taxes, and Gareth Winston’s need to protect his own were all a given.  
“Steve probably doesn’t even remember, so it doesn’t matter,” Eddie muttered, evading the question just as he narrowly evaded a pothole that seemed to appear out of thin air on the road in front of them. The storm was picking back up again, and this was not the conversation to be having right at this moment.  
“Well, do you want him to fuck you?” Jeff asked bluntly, cutting through the fat and straight to the juicy meat of the problem. 
“Jeff!” Eddie blurted out, a nervous burst of laughter escaping along with his name. He took the risk of looking away from the road for a few seconds to give the other boy a wild-eyed look, but Jeff seemed unphased, cool as a cucumber as a lion’s smile began to curl on his face. 
“Do you want to fuck him?” 
Unbidden, a dozen images flashed through Eddie’s head. Steve in his bed. Steve shirtless. Steve underneath him with his hair splayed out on the pillows, wrists trapped in gleaming silver cuffs as he begged so pretty for—
No. 
No no no no no no NO. 
“Dude!” Eddie groaned, turning away from the road again to shout at Jeff. 
And then it happened. 
Jeff’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as he shouted a wordless warning cry and Eddie had less than a second to turn back to the road, slamming his foot on the brake and throwing his arm out to protect Jeff from the inevitable crash. 
There was something on the road in front of them. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the shape, but, whatever it was, it was massive. Huge, and hulking, with a dark shadow that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine, and he was sure his van wouldn’t survive the impact. 
But no impact came. 
His tires skidded, the van turned half a quarter, but no collision, no smashing glass, no pain. Just twin panting from him and Jeff, and an empty road all around them. 
“What was that?” Jeff whispered when he was able to form words again. 
“A deer, I guess,” Eddie murmured back, not really feeling all that sure of his answer. He had never seen a deer like that, but he also hadn’t really seen anything. His wild imagination wanted to run with it, but there was no point. Whatever it was, it was gone, and that’s what mattered. 
He leaned back against his seat, his heart still racing as he patted Jeff’s chest twice, slightly assured when he could feel Jeff’s heart pounding through his shirt as well.
“Sorry.” 
“Shouldn’t’ve distracted you,” Jeff mumbled, lacing his fingers together to hide how badly they were shaking. 
“Hey, not your fault,” Eddie said, knowing how Jeff’s anxiety tended to latch to any blame it could when it got tripped like this. Eddie tested the van, carefully pulling back onto the right side of the road. They stayed quiet as Eddie turned them towards Jeff’s house, driving at a turtle’s pace with both hands on the wheel. 
“I want to help him,” Eddie offered into the silence, eyes firm on the road. “If I can.”
When Jeff didn’t immediately respond, Eddie thought that was the end of the conversation, but as they approached Jeff’s neighborhood, the boy next to him spoke up again. 
“Steve needs the help. Something’s really wrong with him, Eds.”
“You’re turning over to Gareth’s side?” Eddie joked, the words thin and frail and instantly disappearing the second he put them in the air. 
“No,” Jeff replied, no veil of humor over his words. “There’s something wrong with him like there’s something wrong with me.” 
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie said on instinct, hating the bitter scoff Jeff gave. He pulled up to a stop sign and put the van all the way in park, turning in his seat and giving Jeff his full attention 
“Look at me.” Eddie ordered, waiting until Jeff’s dark eyes met his own in the dim light of the streetlamp before speaking again. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jeff. Nothing.” He said, making sure that there was zero wiggle room in his voice. 
Because there wasn’t, and Eddie hated that his best friend thought there was. There was something wrong with Hawkins, with the country they lived in, with the world. There was something wrong with a species that somehow made color a defining factor in a person’s worth, but there was not, and never would be, anything wrong with who Jeff was.
“Fine, then something wrong happened to both of us,” Jeff amended, a ghost of a smile crossing his face at Eddie’s insistence. “Either way, just be careful with him,” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Steve the shovel talk? Not the other way around?” Eddie joked, putting the van back in gear and turning onto Jeff’s street. 
“When you get him, I’ll give him the talk,” Jeff promised, crossing his heart as he did. 
When, not if. Just one word instead of the other, but a flush of warmth flooded Eddie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jeff was right to use the word ‘when’, because Eddie’s chances were not even ‘if’, but he loved the positivity. 
“Have a good night, man,” Jeff said as they pulled into his driveway, holding out a hand for a quick shake as he unbuckled his seatbelt.  
“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing the edge of Jeff’s coat as he stepped out of the van. “Us freaks stick together. Always.”
It was a little reminder, just a hint of a conversation they had over a year ago, but judging by the way Jeff’s eyes softened and his shoulders lowered, he knew exactly what Eddie was reminding him of. 
“Always,” Jeff echoed, squeezing Eddie’s wrist once before he hurried towards his darkened house and slipped inside. Eddie waited till the porch light turned off before sighing heavily, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment before reversing again. 
Back to the lion’s den. 
The house was dark as Eddie quietly let himself back in, but the glow of the pool and the embers of the fire crackling in the fireplace gave just enough light to see the aftermath of the party. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the messes Eddie had seen from Steve’s previous parties, but it was still pretty messy. There would be a lot of cleanup coming tomorrow, and Eddie’s heart ached when he thought about Steve spending Christmas Eve alone cleaning up his house. 
Damn this boy. Eddie didn’t even celebrate Christmas, and here he was worrying over Steve about being alone for it. 
Maybe Wayne wouldn’t mind having one more person over for dinner. Usually it was just the two of them, but Wayne loved his strays almost as much as Eddie did, and Steve was an easy guy to care about. 
Eddie would ask him tomorrow morning. Call before anyone woke up and see what Wayne said. Then he would offer to help clean and ask Steve when it was just the two of them. After all, no one should be alone on the holidays. 
Eddie was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the sound of an angel singing somewhere up above. 
Are you lonesome tonight?
Do you miss me tonight?
Are you sorry we drifted apart?
But no, there was no missing that voice. Eddie was a connoisseur of music, but he already knew that almost any other song was ruined for him. He was the cat caught by the canary instead of the other way around, lost in the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It was deeper now, fuller, grown almost into a man from the boy he had been the last time Eddie heard him sing.  
Does your memory stray to a bright summer day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?
He climbed the stairs slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, knowing it would burn, but needing to be close anyway. 
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?
Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?
Outside the room now, Eddie could see it all while still staying hidden. Steve was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed that was filled to the bursting with his sleeping children. 
His entire self was on display for Eddie, not just his body, but his soul and his mind, a gift being given without knowing, and Eddie was too selfish not to take it. 
Is your heart filled with pain?
Shall I come back again?
This was the boy Gareth couldn’t see, but the one Eddie couldn’t stop looking for. A boy who knew their first memory together. Without a doubt. Who had never forgotten, no matter how much Eddie tried to convince himself he had. 
There was no other reason to pick this song. 
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?
And without permission Eddie was thrust into a memory.
Despite it only being his sophomore year, Eddie was more than used to getting detention. In the two years since he had moved to Hawkins, Eddie had earned his ‘problem child’ status at least twice over. This particular afternoon, he was stuck sitting at a graffitied desk in the detention room because he dared to argue when his teacher told him that it was valid to not believe in evolution when it went against your religious beliefs. 
Evolution. The base of all humanity. 
She was wrong, but she was the one with all the power, so Eddie was the one in trouble. 
Still it could’ve been worse. Wayne had given him the van for his fifteenth birthday, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the steps for a ride home after missing the bus. It wasn’t technically legal, but Hopper tended to look the other way as long as Eddie continued to give him discounts on ‘merchandise’. 
All Eddie had to do was wait out the clock. Mr. Whiter had already fallen asleep at the desk up front and at six, Eddie would be free. Maybe he could even stop at Benny’s. The man always gave him extra fries to bring home to Wayne, and Eddie was making good money now that Rick was in the slammer. He was the last dealer left in town, so things were looking up. 
Well things would be looking up, except the kid next to him refused to stop sniffling. 
Eddie muffled an irritated sigh, sliding his eyes over to take stock of the boy sitting across the way. Clearly a freshman, and obviously his first time in detention. He was looking around the room with wide-eyed horror, slightly terrified of every single thing he saw, and obviously trying to brush tears away from his bruised cheek and busted lip. 
Normally, Eddie would just tell him to shut up. That detention was barely anything to have to deal with in the grand scheme of things, but he had seen the fight that landed the kid in detention, and it had been bad enough to warrant some misery. 
One second he and another boy (obviously a friend given how upset the kid was) were laughing by his locker, and the next second they were exchanging blows. It had been bad, taking three teachers to separate them, and somehow this kid had gotten in trouble for the whole thing!
But Eddie had seen the start, and it was the other twerp that had thrown the first punch. Yet somehow, he was already on the bus home and this schmuck was stuck in detention with the Freak of Hawkins High
The unjustness gnawed at Eddie’s soul, and the longer the kid sat there doing nothing but brush at his already dry cheeks, the harder it was to ignore him. 
Fuck it. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon. 
Eddie grabbed his notebook, slamming it open to a fresh page and dragging his favorite purple pen across the paper, taking a cursory glance at Mr. Whiter’s snoring form before sliding his chair over to the other boy. 
“Hi!” Eddie said, throwing a big smile in the kids direction and hoping that would grease the wheels a little. Eddie knew how intimidating he could look to the rest of the world, and he liked it that way, but it sometimes made it hard to make friends. 
Sure enough, the kid startled the second Eddie spoke, looking at him the way a deer looks at the hunter right before they hear the death shot. He didn’t seem like the type to just outright tell Eddie to fuck off, but he did look massively uncomfortable with Eddie invading his space.  
Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?
“Wanna kill some time?” Eddie offered, holding up his notebook before placing it down on the desk in front of them. A tic tac toe board sat in the middle of the page, and a scorecard was up in the top corner with the word ‘Eddie' on one side and the words ‘Random Kid 'on the other. 
A barely there smile glanced across the kids face as he looked down at the page, and then those big brown eyes were on him. Eddie waited patiently, forcing his body to stay still which was actually a pretty herculean task— not that this kid knew. He had the worm on the hook and the line in the water, and now he was just waiting for the curious fish to bite. 
Whatever the kid was looking for, he must’ve found it because that same soft, shy smile was gifted to Eddie as he leaned down, rooting around in his backpack for his own pen. When he found the one he was looking for, he carefully crossed over Eddie’s purple writing, replacing ‘Random Kid’ with just one word instead. 
“Well, Steve, let’s hope your tic-tac-toe powers are better than your fighting skills,” Eddie joked, pleased when instead of getting mad, Steve’s cheeks darkened in a pretty little blush, and he simply ducked his head with a soft protest and an embarrassed smile. 
They played a few rounds in relative silence, the occasional quiet groan or cheer when one or the other managed to clinch a victory. It was nice, a little boring, but far preferable to what they had been doing before. 
And then Steve’s pen died. 
It was a slow death, long and drawn out with some furious scribbling to try and get one last juice for the squeeze. 
“Here, man, just take mine. I’ve got a spare somewhere,” Eddie offered, not even thinking twice as he gave away his favorite pen, even though he never let anyone borrow that pen. Wayne had gotten it for him on a day trip to Indianapolis for his birthday, just a tiny trinket to commemorate the day, and Eddie loved it to death. 
There was no way Steve could have known that, and yet he was looking at the pen like it was a live snake. 
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the clearly treasured object in front of him. 
Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 
“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook with a plain black pen. He was scratching out another tic-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page, but paused when he saw Steve wasn’t picking up his own pen. 
“People aren’t just nice,” Steve insisted, giving Eddie an unexpectedly guarded look. “They always want something…so what do you want from me?” 
“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, I want to fight the system, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and picking up his favorite purple pen to offer once more to the other boy, “Isn’t that enough?” 
They stared at each other for a long second, until Steve’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 
“You’re really weird,” he said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 
Eddie needed to hear it again.
From there they were off, talking about everything and anything. Eddie shared about all of the  ridiculous reasons he had gotten detention over the years, and Steve explained that the other punk from the fight was Tommy, apparently his best friend for his entire life. They had lived next to each other since Steve had moved to Hawkins as a kid, and had done every single thing together. The reason Tommy had started the fight was Steve had told him he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to basketball try-outs tomorrow. 
“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just want to try some other stuff too you know?” Steve said, looking up from their game to catch Eddie’s eye, “We’re in high school now, so it’s the time to try something new, isn’t it?” 
“Sure it is!” Eddie agreed eagerly, holding himself back from going on a diatribe about the laundry basket devils that ran the school and instead talking about all of the clubs he was in. He couldn’t really see Steve enjoying Marching Band or Creative Writing, but Drama might be a good fit, or maybe Art. 
“You could even join the new club I’m trying to start if you wanted,” Eddie offered, trying to stay casual but practically vibrating at the thought of having someone else to show Higgins that Hellfire was worthy of a place at the table. 
“A new club?” Steve asked. 
“Yea, it’s gonna be great,” Eddie started, taking a deep breath to start his long rant about the joys of dungeons and dragons, “So it’s called—”
“Alright boys,” a nasally voice droned from the front of the room. “Time to pack it up.”
Both boys jumped at Mr. Whiter’s interruption, and Eddie rolled his eyes, frustrated at being stopped right as he had started to get to the good stuff. The geometry teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too eager to get back to his own home to do whatever geometry teachers did when they weren’t at school. 
If Eddie had to guess, it was probably fucking their wives with compasses while reciting geometric formulas as foreplay. That seemed right. 
“And don’t let me catch you in here again, Mr. Harrington. I would hope your parents had taught you better,” Mr. Whiter said as they trudged past him. His blank potato looking face was only showing the barest hints of disappointment, but that was still enough to make Steve cringe away.
“Yes sir,” he whispered, all joy from the last hour they had spent together vanishing in an instant.
“What? No warning for me Mr. Whiter?” Eddie inquired, batting his eyes and trying to take the attention away from Steve. 
“I don’t particularly like wasting my breath on hopeless cases, Mr. Munson,” Whiter droned, half raising one brow, as if shocked that Eddie would even bother to ask for an admonishment. “Try to get your homework done tonight, will you? I’d hate to add another zero to my gradebook,”
Hot shame rushed down Eddie’s spine, replaced quickly by a lightning fury that made his lips loose and his logic take a quick hike. 
“Well, I don’t particularly like making promises I can’t keep, sorry Tighty-Whiteys!” Eddie declared, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him away before they could get in any trouble because of Eddie’s big fat mouth. 
“Jesus H Christ, that guys a dick!” Eddie shouted, both boys laughing breathlessly as they burst through the doors of the school. 
“You gonna do the homework?” Steve said through his giggles. 
“Now? Hell no!” Eddie swore, cackling as he did and jumping up onto the low wall next to the school. “Gotta fight the system however you can, Stevie. Trust me. Listen to your elders.”
“Whatever you say,”  Steve said, continuing to laugh at Eddie’s antics. He idly looked around the parking lot, his mood starting to darken as he looked again, searching the parking lot again, but Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what for. 
Then Steve sighed, plopping down on the curb and wrapping his arms around his knees resting his chin on top of them and rapidly blinking. 
“What’re you doin’?” Eddie asked with concern, shocked at Steve’s sudden turn and hopping down from his spot on the wall. 
“My parents aren’t here,” Steve muttered glumly, staring out at the empty lot instead of looking at Eddie as he sat on the curb next to Steve. “The school called after the fight, and they knew when I was getting out, but my dad’s probably going to make me wait ‘till after dinner or something.”
It wasn’t exactly the most damning thing to say in the world, Eddie could think of a dozen things that his dad had done to him that were worse, but the thought of making his own son wait for hours in the cold and dark still made something in his stomach squirm. He could never imagine Wayne doing anything like that to him.
Steve curled up even tighter around himself, completely unaware of Eddie’s internal struggle. 
“God, I bet they’re so pissed.” Steve whispered into his knees. “And now my dad’s going to have to come get me, and he’s going to be even madder about that—”
“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” Eddie offered in an instant, shocking even himself with the boldness of the offer. He had just met the kid only an hour ago, but Steve’s genuine nature touched something in him, and there was a magnetic pull to want to help him that Eddie couldn’t quite explain just yet. “Then at least they won’t be mad at you about needing a ride, right?”
It would make more sense for Steve to say no, to try and play it off, but instead he was giving Eddie a watery smile and a look of gratitude as he nodded, starting to stand. 
Eddie had never really worried about what the van looked like, but as they walked towards where it was, Eddie jogged ahead, trying to throw the multitudes of wrappers and junk into the back where Steve wouldn’t see. Luckily for him, the younger boy seemed enraptured by the simple fact that Eddie had a car at all. 
“I want something cool like a Beemer or a truck, but my mom doesn’t want me to get a car ‘till I’m 18,” Steve said idly, pausing and furrowing his brow as he did, “She’s really weird about me driving for some reason.” 
Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel too weird about a random guy giving her kid a ride home in a kidnapper van. 
“Pick a tape for us to listen to,” Eddie offered as he climbed into the driver's seat, fighting with his seatbelt as Steve perused his choices. Unfortunately, Steve quickly skipped over all of the metal that Eddie had at the front of the pack, but soon familiar notes began to sing, and Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he recognized the song. 
“Ahhhh, The King. A good choice,” Eddie commented as Elvis’s voice began to croon out into the air between them. 
“Who could hate this song?” Steve asked rhetorically, a wry grin on his face as the tune began to take shape.
“I always loved that nickname,” Steve said off handedly, staring out the window at the rows of corn, “King.” 
“You should steal it then,” Eddie said automatically. Sure, Steve was a kid right now, but Eddie could see it in his eyes. A few years, a couple more inches, and that kid would have the world eating out of his palm. That sweet nature, that funny little humor, ‘King’ wasn’t too hard to imagine when it came to Steve. 
“Maybe,” Steve replied, drawing out the word with a tone that showed that he wasn’t sure about that. He gave Eddie a few more directions, and they got closer and closer to their time being done together. A strange desperation started to make Eddie’s heart race, like he could feel the two of them pulling back into their roles, backing away from whatever they had this afternoon. 
“It’s got a good ring to it. King Steve,” Eddie pushed, pausing and making the turn into Loch Nora before he put his heart on the line. 
“Why don’t you blow off basketball try-outs tomorrow? Come to my club I’m starting instead. You can meet my friends.”
It was a chance, a choice. Steve could make the right one, and be one of them, or he could get sucked into Hawkins and all of it’s hell hole small town bullshit. Eddie was giving him an out. 
“That sounds really fun,” Steve said in a small voice, a secret smile shared between them before it was ruined by a shout from the house in front of them. 
“Steven!”
It was a woman’s voice, and Steve’s entire body stiffened. No more smiles, no more relaxing, Steve was a rod of pure steel, with a blank unaffected face. A man and a woman, Steve’s mother and father presumably, were standing on the porch together, twin faces of disappointed gravity that stole all of the air out of the van. 
“Well, wish me luck,” Steve laughed without humor, his fingers worrying over the straps of his backpack as he started to unbuckle his seatbelt. 
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked, already knowing in his stomach that he wouldn’t. 
“Tomorrow,” Steve said, the word so thin and frail now. 
And he was gone. Out of the car, and most definitely out of Eddie’s life. But if he was losing this like he seemed to lose everything, Eddie wanted to at least say a proper goodbye. 
“See you later Alligator!” Eddie shouted through the window. Steve turned back, haloed by the setting sun, looking far too angelic for a gangly fourteen year old. 
“In a while Crocodile,” Steve called back with a slight laugh, just a shadow of his former self, turning and rushing to his waiting parents who gave Eddie one last glare before slamming the door shut. 
Eddie waited a second, staring at the locked door and listening to the song on the radio, wishing that the burning in his eyes would just disappear the way Steve had. 
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and care?
Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?
Is your heart filled with pain
Shall I come back again?
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?
Eddie opened his eyes again, back in the present, to find Steve already watching him. 
In another world, things worked out differently, but not in this one. 
In reality, Steve didn’t come to Hellfire the next day. Tommy was at his locker bright and early, there to laugh the whole thing off and drag Steve to try-outs come hell or high water. Eddie had seen the whole thing, and he had known then and there Steve wasn’t one of them. Steve’s cheek was still bruised, but there were finger shapes on his wrist that definitely hadn’t been there the day before during detention. He had glanced at Eddie, but quickly glanced away, agreeing loudly that try-outs were going to be awesome. 
When Steve had caught his eye that day, when he had tried to say he was sorry without words, Eddie hadn’t been in a place to listen. He had a thousand chips of his own weighing on his shoulders, and an inability to see anything but his own opinion as right. 
There was no way to be two things at once, not back then. 
But that bruised beat up kid was in front of him again, big hazel eyes begging for forgiveness again. And this time, Eddie finally felt ready to give it to him. 
“Hi Alligator,” Eddie whispered, the words barely able to get out past the lump in his throat. A small smile graced Steve’s lips as his eyes began to shine in the dark. 
“It’s been a while, Crocodile,” Steve whispered back. 
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segretecose · 11 months
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the more i think about it the more i'm actually floored by the audacity of switzerland's entry like imagine there's been an actual war going on in your country for close to a year and a half and some twink from a historically constitutionally neutral and also extremely rich and safe country enters a musical competition and sings some ugly little song being like "i don't wanna be a soldier :(((" well fuck you boy who would your swiss ass even fucking fight? tax evaders? and with a swiss army knife maybe? die.
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trendywaifus · 6 months
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just a short thirst. i’m down bad for her.
imagine topaz as your ex girlfriend chasing you down for a hot minute since you’ve been evading your taxes to spite her. she finally has you cornered in belobog, demanding you to pay what you owe to the ipc. you refuse to and she’s ready to arrest you. topaz pauses for a brief moment before her eyes lights up; peach lips stretching into a sly smile.
“ i can arrest you on the spot or, “ her gloved finger runs along your jaw sensually. “ we can discuss a different way to pay what you owe at the goethe hotel tonight. “
flustered by her suggestive actions, you stammer, “ a-are you serious right now, topaz? “
she chuckled, her gaze narrowed with desire and longing that she didn’t care to hide. topaz backs away. “ you’ll see how serious i am once you come. meet me at the hotel by 9:00pm sharp and i’ll escort you to my room. don’t be late, yeah? “ she smirks at you before walking off.
when you do meet topaz at the hotel at the designated time, she’s visibly in triumph. she’s excited to finally get her hands on you after so long. as much as she hates you for making her chase you around, she misses the way you made her feel intimately. after topaz takes you to her room, she immediately closes the door and locks it shut.
before you can speak, she lightly shoves you down on the bed. she grins down on you with a predatory glint in her purple teal eyes. she presents to you a single golden coin on her open palm. “ let’s play a little game of heads and tails. its simple, if the coin lands on heads, i’ll let you go and you don’t have to worry about paying a dime to the ipc. if it lands on tails, “ the corner of her lips grows wider with excitement, “ consider yourself in debt to me and you’ll have to pay your dues with your body for the next 300 years (300 years is outlandish!). “
she flips the coin in the air. you pray that it’s tails head so you can get away from your hot ex. when it lands back on her palm, her face turns smug, and you damn near fainted on the mattress. topaz walks in-between your legs and drops to her knees. her deft gloved fingers fiddles with the waistband of your pants/skirt. you stopped her hands bashfully, “ w-wait, i thought we were suppose to discuss? isn’t 300 years past both of our lifetimes?! “
topaz licks her lips, “ oh (name), we did discuss—with the coin flip. and, the 300 years was merely just an exaggeration—but I’m sure you do owe me at least over five hundred thousand worth of credits. “
within ten minutes, you’re on your back, fingers tangled in her white locks as her tongue and fingers has you seeing literal stars. you’re sobbing, begging for her to stop overstimulating you. too bad for you, this was only just the beginning.
390 notes · View notes
prkwook · 6 months
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CUPID 💌 🏹
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TO YOU, computer science is a cold, no room for feelings profession, and this seems to be true for everyone that does it, except you. but one day, you meet another (hopeless romantic) boy that could finally change your mind. IN WHICH our cast plays cupid for their loser (endearingly) friends who can’t seem to take their own relationship advice.
who: gunwook x f!reader ft. other idols
categories: non-idol au, college / high school au, social media au + written, fluff, crack (ig), light angst (maybe), yn is a hopeless romantic and so is gunwook.
warnings: mentions of food, swearing, kys/death jokes, suggestive humor. warnings may vary for each one shot. timestamps & dates do not matter
notes: this is my first time writing an au so i truly apologize if it’s bad LOL. one of my fave aus hasn’t been updated in a while so i decided to take matters into my own hands and create one myself.
layout inspired by: @luvjiun 's Steambird Café (go check it out if haven't ... its one of my faves ^_^)
— to be added to my taglist ... pls fill out this form 🫀
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— ☆ :  MASTERLIST
PROFILES: barnes and noble DUPE 🎧 odd man out
001. U GO GIRL!
002. sneaky little tax evader
003. who is Him?!
004. nerd knows nerd!!!
005. coming soon ...
more will be added as time goes on. titles are subject to change. 
240 notes · View notes
adonis-koo · 1 year
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sweet nothing • 2
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(in which a disagreement turns into mess)
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word Count: 2.7k
Previous | Next
Note: back with another part!!! she's short and just a tad angsty but the ending is cute so I allowed it! <3
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“I want to paint.” 
Jungkook’s eyes glanced up at your somewhat antsy figure that sat across the small table from him, though dinner had been quiet it wasn’t a bad thing, he had just been buried in work more than usual lately.
Not just in his narcotic dealings but in his company as well, which meant spending his evenings and well into the night still trying to play catch up.
“Then paint.” Jungkook replied plainly, his eyes lowering back down to his monthly figures deducting what profit he had made between his input vs output and of course taxes- not that he paid them, but it was good to get an idea of just how large of a sum he was indirectly evading
Your lips twisted into a pout, it had taken you the last fifteen minutes to state your request, you hadn’t figured he’d be so blase about it, “No I need the materials to paint. There’s no supplies here, if I could go back home...” 
Jungkook finally set his set of papers down as he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly, “Just tell Jimin what you want for supplies, he’ll work out what you can buy.’” He waved a hand dismissively making your pout grow, now crossing your arms over your stomach. 
“Painting is expensive Jungkook,” You replied firmly, “I can’t ask you to buy any of that for-” 
You stopped at the sight of Jungkook pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, grabbing the black amex card as he tossed it in your direction, “Pin is 9207, go crazy.” 
“Jungkook!” You scolded him softly.
Jungkook raised his brows, “Bankrupt me if it means you staying out of trouble for one damn minute.” 
You sulked, it had been going on for two and a half weeks of you living in the Jeon Estate and it was evident Jungkook was still irritated at the whole stint last week where you had gotten stuck in his secret library but it wasn’t your fault…!
Well maybe a little bit, you shouldn’t have been snooping about but if you were going to be living here temporarily, then it would only make sense that you got acquainted with your surroundings. You glared at the card before snatching it off the table, standing up abruptly making Jungkook’s eyes dart back to your figure, now looking put off and irritated as you left without a single word. 
He looked towards Yeonjun who had been standing ideally by, “What the fuck was that about?” His lip twitched, “Any other woman would’ve came at just the sight of that card.” 
Yeonjun frowned, “With all due respect, you aren’t the most well spoken person Sir.” 
Jungkook’s nostrils flared, “And she’s been a headache and a fucking half, I meant what I said, if she can keep herself busy it would do me and the rest of the damn estate a favor.” 
Yeonjun said no more, feeling as though if he divulged any more of his thoughts he would once again be put under the cold pressure of a gun barrel, which he had already undergone three times this week, he’d rather not make it a forth, if possible.
You had been excited for your supplies to arrive, you had wasted no expense in nice canvases, primer, the expensive paints you’d only ever browse rather than buy, and of course brushes, but the finer quality ones that wouldn’t shed. 
And then among that you got pencils, charcoal, multi media paper, sketchpads. 
In fact, you felt a little bad spending over two thousand dollars within a half an hour, but then after looking at the black amex card for less than ten seconds, you remembered this was Jeon Jungkook’s bank account. 
The CEO who was apart of the underground mafia, who owned eight sports cars, two motorcycles, a fucking estate and three vacation homes, one which was in Greece, that he had confirmed himself and who knew what else. 
He had an black amex card for a reason. 
And then you promptly shut down any feelings of guilt. This was the very least he could do for acting like a total asshole to you. 
You wiped your brow that had sweat forming on it as you sighed, it was late morning but the heat of August was at its height and you could feel it. But you had gained a lot of inspiration from the gardens, so you had sat out with your supplies under one of the large willow trees next to the garden. 
It shielded you from the sun’s bright rays but good god was it humid outside. And carrying a miniature bowling ball in your stomach was making you a thousand times hotter than it would've been if you hadn’t been pregnant to begin with. 
Focusing back in on your painting you began working on the petals of the lilies you had first carefully sketched out before beginning your work on painting them. 
“You certainly made sure to spare no expense.” 
Your brush paused and your teeth gritted before you inhaled slowly, resuming your work as you ignored the one person you had no desire to talk to at the moment. 
“If you had just said so earlier I would’ve gotten you a whole studio.” Jungkook commented, peering over you at your work as he stuffed his hands in his pocket. 
“Oh so I won’t bother you and I’d stay out of trouble for’ one damn minute’?” You snapped as you glared over your shoulder. 
Jungkook was not dressed at all like you normally see him, he’s usually clean cut, in a button up of some kind and slacks, but today he’s in a loose white shirt with tattoos on display and gray sweatpants, hair messy and tied up indicating he had slept in, the first you had ever seen of such a case. 
Jungkook scoffed as he leaned back a little, “In case you forgot you had an entire house hunting you down for three hours last week. I remember it clear as day, so yeah sue me I want you to have some hobbies.” 
You groaned as you stood up, albeit a bit wobbly as you grabbed the tree for support, “Well I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass! I was the one that got ripped out of my life and told that I have to stay here otherwise I’d be kidnapped, or killed or both! I’m not allowed to go to work, I’m not allowed to leave the estate, and now I’m not allowed to even walk around! I’m pregnant, not dying!” 
“Yeah well you’ll be fuckin’ dead at the rate you’re going doll,” Jungkook growled back, frustration evident on his face, “You were gonna get involved whether you wanted too or not because that’s what happens when people associate with rats.” 
“Don’t bring my brother into this!” 
“He’s the cunt to blame for you being stuck at my estate, sitting here painting in my gardens on my funds. You know what? You’re right Y/n, you should probably be thanking him right now because I know a lot of other fuckin’ men who wouldn’t be putting up with your bitching and crying right now except or me.” Jungkook replied coldly. 
You both glared at one another for a long moment before he noticed the slightest quiver in your lips and your eyes just a little glassy, “Fuck you.” 
Was all you said before indignantly walking away, though it was more of an awkward waddle to get out of the heat, but it was hardly to blame from the humidity anymore. 
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“I know you’re a prideful fuck but c’mon man,” Yoongi took a long sip of his stiff vodka, watching Jungkook damn near kill his steak a second time as he aggressively stabbed it, yanking his knife through it like it was his enemies neck, “You can’t blame her for being mad.” 
“I gave her my fuckin’ amex card, what is she so pissed about?” Jungkook glared at his food, still cutting it up. He had purposefully chosen to go out tonight and have dinner with Yoongi to not have to see you. 
“You can’t buy someone’s heart Kook.” Yoongi replied.
“Who mentioned shit about hearts?” Jungkook scoffed, looking mildly amused for a moment before his expression soured once more, “She had no right to get pissy with me, what I’m doing is necessary to protect her ass. And she can’t get fuckin’ mad at me when she’s the one that’s always getting into trouble.”
“It was one time.” Yoongi scoffed as he reared his head back, the blonde shook his hair to get it out of his eyes, “You wanna know what I think this is about?”
“Quite frankly? No I don’t.” 
“Well too bad, I think it’s because you like her,” Yoongi pointed a finger at him with a gummy grin as Jungkook violently shook his head, “You fuckin’ like her and you can’t stand it. Or are you mad it isn’t you who got to fuck her raw and knock her up, after all you both knew each other-”
Yoongi’s sentence was cut off by Jungkook grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him close, hair covering his eyes as he spoke, “ I might be mad at her but don’t fucking talk about her like she’s some whore. And we might be partners but don’t think for one minute I won’t fuck you up if you say shit about her.” 
It was silent for a long moment and Yoongi’s grin only widened further, as if what he said had been confirmed. 
This made Jungkook scowl as he let go of him, “I just need to find Wonho and squeeze the fucker dry, then she can go back to her little boring life she so desperately wants.”
“If she’s such a headache then why not just let her go now? Who gives a shit,” Yoongi shrugged, straightening his collar back out, “I mean really Jungkook, you have no obligation to keep her there, she’s not your responsibility.” 
Yoongi glanced at him curiously but he said no more, this made Yoongi’s lips twist into a smirk as he took another drink. He didn’t say that this wasn’t like Jungkook to do this for a reason, because it was just like him. In fact this was the most Jungkook thing he could ever do. 
It’s what made Yoongi respect him, not only this but it made him much more interesting to work with than anyone else he had ever met, aside from their boss. 
“Talk all the shit you want Jungkook,” Yoongi paused for a moment, “But I think you’d both feel better if you reconciled.” 
Jungkook had taken a long drive after his dinner in thought of Yoongi’s words, thinking long and hard before he decided that Yoongi was right. 
He needed to reconcile with you. He had been stressed beyond normal and he had taken that out on you in the heat of the moment and that wasn’t fair to you, you didn’t ask for any of this. Jungkook had never imagined himself as someone who would get married, unless it was for the sake of his position, his company, or his ties in the mafia. 
And he sure as hell didn’t consider ever having children- unless they were bastards of a whore, in which he wouldn’t be surprised and took no claim over. 
So to say he was baffled and surprised at how quickly he had become stressed over you was a surprise to say the least. He wasn’t a man of attachment, but the idea of you being hurt, kidnapped or killed had an unimaginable amount of rage fill him. 
It had to be because you were just pregnant, you were carrying a baby that indeed did nothing wrong. Once you gave birth you wouldn’t be his problem anymore and neither would the kid. 
He resolved for that internally. 
Jungkook had come home to find out that you had made quite the stir in the estate as you had taken his words from earlier that day and did something about it. Finding a spare bedroom in the eastern side that would make a good studio.
Furniture was still left outside the room and the door was shut. 
Jungkook groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. He was many things, he was a businessman, a killer, a prideful person, intimidating to most. But he was not someone who apologized. 
In fact it was a surprise you had said what you did and walked away still alive, but it was only because it was you. Jungkook told himself, if that had been anyone else, if it had been any of his underlings, he would've executed them immediately. 
Jungkook leaned against the wall as he sighed, was he just going soft? 
Finally he knocked on the door, “Y/n…can we talk?” 
“Go away.” 
He tucked his tongue into his cheek at the muffled voice, he knew you’d be sulking, but he wouldn’t describe himself as patient nor soft, he banged on the door once more, “I’m not going until you talk to me.” 
“Then have fun sleeping outside.” You called back. 
Jungkook haughtily puffed his chest, teeth gritted as he glared at the wood separating you both. Muttering multiple foul sentences under his breath he leaned against the wall across from the door, if that’s what it took, then that’s what he’d do. 
Time had passed silently and the estate had fallen quiet as the night took over, many people asleep and a few guards had passed by bowing in respect but not daring to ask why their boss was half asleep, sitting on the ground with his back against the door. 
Jungkook was nodding off when he heard it, the sound of glass breaking, a loud tumble and multiple smacks of sound against wood. 
His heartrate had spiked immediately and he jolted right off the ground, “Y/n!?” He called out, but after a second of no reply he immediately opening the door to an unsightly scene, colored water spilt all over the ground and paints strown about. 
The easel knocked over with a beautiful bouquet painted on it- though a hole had been punching through it, now having ruined it. 
And you in the middle, covered in pain looking tired and thoroughly heartbroken at the scene. You had played a good game at not crying but right now it wasn’t working as your lips quivered and you softly wept into your hands. 
“C’mere.” Was all Jungkook said, stepping over the glass, carefully helping you up as you attempted to walk, “No, no you’ll cut your feet.” He scolded you softly, picking you up as he walked you over to the desk, setting you on top of it, “Is the baby okay?” 
His hand cautiously hovered over your swollen tummy though he didn’t feel quite comfortable to rest his hand on it. Fat tears trickled down your cheeks as you nodded, “I fell asleep and ended up knocking some things over, woke up in surprise and fell off my chair.” 
Jungkook sighed in relief before he grabbed a clean washcloth and the bottle of water on your desk, pouring it out he started cleaning the paint off your face, he paused as you both looked at one another for a long moment. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” He resigned as he tenderly thumbed the tears from your eyes, this made a soft whimper escape you as you closed your eyes, more tears trickling down your cheeks.
“‘m sorry.”
Jungkook only hushed you as he cleaned up your face before moving to your arms and then your legs, “What I said earlier today was unacceptable and cruel, I apologize for letting my temper get the best of me,” He sighed as he stared at your tear stained face, “I was being too harsh with you…How about we go out once a week? I’m sure you’re getting cabin fever.” 
You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks, “You wanna go out with me?” 
“If time allows,” Jungkook replied, “It seems like I can hardly trust anyone else, the moment you're out of my sight the moment this seems to keep happening.” He gestured around, a light smile on his face at your pout. 
“Anywhere…?” You peered at him a bit shy.
“Anywhere.” 
1K notes · View notes
dira333 · 3 months
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When I felt like I was an old cardigan - Aomine x Reader
@shoulmate this was so much fun!!!
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Your head’s pounding, the sliver of sunlight peaking through the blinds too bright for your eyes. You press them closed again, sink further into the bed. 
What happened last night? You had gone out with friends - if you could call them that already - only to end up at some house party with bad music and awful drinks. 
You remember Tano pressing a cup into your hands, the drink spilling onto your shirt.
“Drink up, buttercup.” He’d said, grinning in a way that made unease coil in your stomach.
“What is it?” You had asked, stumbling a bit when someone bumped into your back. More of the drink spilled onto your shirt - you should probably say goodbye to it now, those stains would never come out - and your hands and you sucked some of it from your fingers only to look up and come face to face with none other than the Aomine Daiki.
He looked hungry, in a way only he could. Like he was starving and you were the T-Bone he’d been dreaming about.
“Not cool, Bro.” You heard Tano say and turned your head, hoping it would get Aomine’s attention away from you.
“What?” You asked Tano and his head snapped back to you, his disgruntled expression morphing back into the smile you had learned to loathe. It never looked real and if you were being honest, it just made him look more like a Wannabe Tax Evader. 
“Nothing. How’s your Iced Tea?”
“It’s Iced Tea?” You ask and take a sip. It doesn’t taste like any Iced Tea brand you know but it’s good, way better than the awful bottle of beer Kaba-chan had urged you to drink earlier. Apparently, it made you look better to guys if you were drinking beer instead of Soda. One sip in you had decided that you’d rather look awful than drink any more of that piss-flavored stuff…
Something’s rustling next to you. A deep voice, gravely with sleep, cuts through the Silence. “Couldn’t you have slept a little longer?”
You shriek, try to move away but fail, your legs tangled in the blankets, your coordination way off. You land heavily, legs still on the bed, your ass on the floor. You can hear movement, and try to untangle yourself all while registering that you’re wearing your underwear - thank God - and a black shirt that’s way too big on you. Oh god, did you sleep with someone? Please don’t let it be Tano!
A head of dark blue hair pops up. You choke on your breath as Aomine glares down at you.
“It’s way too early for that shit. Go back to sleep.”
“I.” You peep. He narrows his eyes at you. For half a second you think he might have mercy on you, register how out of your depth you’re feeling, and show some compassion.
But no. With one swift motion, he puts his arm under your knees and pulls you up as if you’d weigh nothing. You swing into him, your chest colliding with his shoulder. 
You squeak helplessly, again when he drops down himself, pulling you with him.
His bed is soft, absorbing the impact of your fall. When you cautiously turn your head, Aomine’s eyes are already closed again. His hold on you has not loosened though, one arm still wrapped around your knees.
Does he really think you’ll just fall asleep again?
“There’s Aspirin on my nightstand.” He speaks up when you don’t stop staring at him. He’s got a ridiculously pretty nose, something you only notice now that his eyes are closed. 
You’ve always thought that his eyes were his best feature, a deep blue that you could get lost in. You’d noticed it the first time you’d crossed paths in the hallway but it’s not like you couldn’t have noticed. Not with the way everyone whispered whenever he was in the room.
Aomine Daiki, the Aomine Daiki, part of the Generation of Miracles, who had played in the famous Team Vorpal Swords. He could have gone Pro right after High School and the fact that he had decided to grace College with his presence still had many of your fellow students speechless. 
-
“Did we-?” You ask, unable to keep quiet any longer now that his grip on you has loosened and you’ve managed to take the pill and drink half a glass of water. “Did we… you know…?”
“I don’t need to make people drunk for that.” He points out, eyes still closed. His brows are furrowed now and you wonder if he’s mad that you asked.
“Well excuse me that I asked.” You’re not in the mood to play nice with him. Not in a situation like this where everything is still pretty much possible. “But waking up in a stranger's bed without my clothes isn’t exactly reassuring. Not to mention that I don’t remember how I even got here.”
Aomine’s eyes open, lock directly onto you. Your breath catches a little at the sight, but you fight against the very real threat of drowning in them.
You don’t look away though, partly because you feel he wouldn’t take you seriously if you did.
He smirks. 
“You couldn’t hold your liquor. That guy you were with was trying to tug you outside, but you didn’t want to go with him. You made a mad dash through the house like a rabbit on speed. It was very impressive, especially after you slipped through Murasakibara’s hands like a wet snail only to clamber all over me. You puked all over my shirt.”
“I did not!”
“Did too.” He grins, ridiculous white teeth a stark contrast against his tan skin. Your heart beats so hard against your ribcage that you fear he can see it. 
“Okay, say I believe you.” You put on your best You’re-talking-shit-face. “What happened after that? My puking skills enamored you to the point you just had to take me home?”
“Exactly that.” 
You narrow your eyes and he laughs, that deep belly laugh kind that makes him look ten years younger and ten times more adorable. Which is weird, because Aomine Daiki and adorable should not appear in the same sentence together without the word “not” in between.
“Baka-gami was mad that you puked. He blamed me for it and kicked both of us out. I wanted to make sure you got home safe, especially because that guy you refused to go home with was still lingering around. But you weren’t willing to tell me your address. So I brought you here. You’re welcome.”
“And why am I wearing your shirt?”
“Because it’s clean and you were not. You’re welcome.”
You muster him for a second longer before you falter.
“Thank you.” You manage to get out and he nods, patting the mattress. 
“Good. Now get back to sleep. It’s way too early to be awake.”
“I could just go home.”
“Or you could take a nap. And then, in a few hours, when we both resemble human beings, we can go out for breakfast.”
You choke on your spit. “What? Why?”
He furrows his brows. “That’s not how you answer when someone asks you on a date.”
You’re slack-jawed now. This can’t be happening. 
Before he can say more you lean forward and pinch his cheek, hard.
He slaps your hand away, brows furrowed even more now.
“What was that for?”
“Just checking if you’re real.”
“I am real.”
“Well, now I know. But you’re probably still half-drunk from last night. That’s it.” You nod to yourself. “Residual alcohol. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep. When you wake up everything will be normal again.”
This could have worked. Maybe. With someone other than Aomine.
Seconds later you’re on your back, with him hovering above you.
He reminds you of a panther, that way, a giant, dangerous cat.
But there’s something in his eyes that suggests that you’re not the mouse in this equation. Not when he lowers himself, curls himself around you so casually, until his head is resting heavily on your stomach, a warm weight that won’t let you go anywhere in the next hours.
“I’ll explain later.” He grumbles from where he’s snuggled into your stomach. He yawns. “Just let me get some sleep first.”
Slowly, cautiously, your hands curl into his hair. It’s silky smooth under your touch and you drag your fingers through it, scratch at his scalp like you’d wanted to since you’ve met him - not that you’d ever thought htat dream possible. He groans into the touch.
Maybe, just maybe, you could take a nap like this. Just for a few hours. You didn’t have to be anywhere right now anyway…
-
Kagami eyes you warily.
“Are you going to puke again?” He asks. You roll your eyes.
“It’s been three months, idiot.” You grumble, annoyed that he keeps bringing that up.
He smirks and steps aside to let you in. “Aho-mine, your girlfriend is here.”
“Slug-chin.” Murasakibara greets you first however, picks you up like you’re nothing more but a bag of his favorite chips. “Caught you.”
“Yeah, this time, big guy.” You pat his head for a second before he lets you down. “Where’s Daiki?”
“Mine-chin is fighting with Kise-chin.”
“Again?” You roll your eyes. “And Satsuki?”
“Not here yet. But Kuro-chin isn’t here either. It’s boring.”
“I know, I know. I’ll go check in on Daiki and then we can make something to eat. How does that sound?”
Murasakibara nods slowly, process your words.
“I’ll preheat the oven.” He leaves without another word and you snort at his antics before moving along, following the cursing and shouts to the living room.
You’re not surprised to find Kise dragging himself over the finish line. He might be good at everything, but he’s absolutely shit at Mario Kart.
“Hey Babe.” Daiki drops the controller and opens his arms for you, pulling you onto his lap the moment you’re close enough. “How was work?”
“Awful.” You curl into him and stick your tongue out at Kise when you notice him leaning in too, always craving attention even when he’s not deserving it. “I’m going to make some cake with Murasakibara. Do you want to help?”
Instead of answering he leans forward, digs his nose into your hair and inhales.
“Daiki? What are you- You ass!” You punch your fist against his chest but he laughs, a bellowing sound. Your ear hurts where he bit into it, the skin wet with his saliva.
“That’s so gross!” You grumble. 
He’s still laughing, hand pressed against his mouth as if he’s trying to stifle his amusement. He isn’t. You know he isn’t. But he’s distracted and you’re going to use this to your advantage.
After all, his neck does look especially biteable today!
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slyyywriting · 10 months
Text
Graining
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Summary: Formula 1 AU; Driver!Ransom x PR Girlfriend!Reader - Ransom is a known asshole on and off the racetrack. His mother thinks he can fix his image if he was with the right girl. It’s not easy but maybe the soft spoken, shy daughter of his mother’s socialite friend just might be the honey that makes Ransom easier to swallow.
Wordcount: 3.7k
Warnings: none really, maybe angst? idk, cute shit, mutual pining, Ransom being himself, meddling mothers
18+ ONLY! IF YOU ARE A MINOR, KINDLY EXIT STAGE LEFT! DO NOT INTERACT!
A/N: Hello, I'm back but not quite. I just wanted this out there because F1 is fun and funny and dramatic but also not really lol. Not beta'd. Enjoy~
|| MASTERLIST  || IN THE CIRCUIT SERIES ||
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You’ve gotten used to it by now. It was always hectic on Wednesday mornings across the hall from your apartment. The yelling is common fare as well as the sound of things breaking. It all just means his parents were in town.
You had muted your microphone for the zoom call you were in and had turned down the volume. You’ve opted out of paying attention to the lecture fifteen minutes ago as soon as the first door slam was heard. You’re almost tempted to leave the call and march next door to check up on him but you knew that that would only end up with you being in the middle of an unstoppable object and an immovable force.
The yelling had gotten louder just as your lecturer flashed Article 116 of the UNCLOS while your notes stayed on Article 110. You were behind again. Usual for Wednesdays and typical of you to get caught up in things you shouldn’t be worried about. You raise the volume back on your laptop and try to focus on the power point shared on your screen.
“And I’m telling you, mother. We’re busy!” Ransom suddenly enters your apartment with his mother in tow. He gestures at your state when he sees you in your living surrounded by books and papers. Your mouth falls open for a response but he beats you to it. “You’ve already hi-jacked her class schedule so that she has to take them in hotel rooms every week. Do you know how hard it is to get a PhD? Huh, do you?”
You stutter as Ransom approaches your kitchen table and hauls an armful of folders over to her. You pop up from where you were seated on the carpet in front of your couch, using your coffee table as leverage to raise yourself as quickly as possible and stop Ransom from his dramatics.
“She has to read all of these this week and then react to them by the weekend so she can submit them for class next week. And then! She has to do it all over again if her prick of a professor thinks it’s not edgy enough. You know how hard it is to have edgy thoughts when the topic is the migration of tuna fish? Very hard, mother. So please, bother someone else with your gyrating need to impress a bunch of under-educated, loan-submitting, tax evading aristocrats by bringing us along as a party trick at some boring tea party!”
Ransom huffs and leaves your apartment, slamming your door behind him while leaving his mother in your small front room. You rush and take the documents from her arms and give her an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Linda. Ransom hasn’t had sugar in a week since his trainer thinks he needs to lose weight for the car. He’s a little more sensitive than usual.” You don’t even know why you try and placate this woman. She’s a terrible person and highly talented at being two-faced.
“Oh, it’s really okay dear. He’s been like that his whole life and trust me it’s not the lack of sugar.” Linda steps in front of you and brushes your shoulders. “So you’ll talk to him right? Make sure he wears the white Ralph Lauren knitted jumper and those cream colored Pacco Rabanne slacks this afternoon for drinks with the Strulovich’s—”
“Uhh, Ransom already told you that we can’t go.”
“No! No, no, no, dearie.” You flinch as Linda holds you in place by grasping your arms. You lean back slightly as the various layers of her jewelry glares at your eyes with their sparkle. A natural taste repellant built into your brain against cheap trickery. “Ransom doesn’t want to go if you’re not going. But you are going, you have to so that means the two of you, my favorite little lovebirds, are going to be there. Yes? Good! I’ll see you later, okay.”
She turns and flips her scarf around her neck before reaching for your door. As you stand there still processing what had happened, she turns around to face you, making a vague gesture to describe your state.
“Maybe do your hair different for later? And wear make up! Yeah, that always helps with the, uhh— I mean the grad school chic is very high fashion but maybe dress up more sexy and intelligent girlfriend kind of chic. Representatives from Elle and Marie Claire will be there so it will be good to have nice photos. Show some skin, okay? Love you, darling! See you!”
And just like her son’s exit, Linda slams your door shut as well. You groan and rub your eyes in frustration. Why can you never assert yourself at her? It was very easy, like Linda we can’t go because I’m behind my lectures and Ransom hates people and when he’s around people he hates he gets handsy with me so please for the love of God stop inviting him to these things so my ass does not get pinched in public! Easy.
You shake off your annoyance and resume your position in front of the laptop. You panic when the presentation wasn’t being shared anymore and were about to chat your friend for updates when you see she’s already messaged you.
GIRL YOUR MIC IS ON LMAOOOO
Oh, shit. You gasp and check the microphone icon at the bottom.
“Umm, did you guys hear all of that?” Several of your classmates nod in unison along with your professor. You panic in embarrassment and blurt out, “I’m really sorry, Professor! It won’t happen again—”
You leave the call and slam your laptop shut. Great! You’re going to be a meme again in the group chats.
---
“What the fuck are you doing?” You yelp with a start as Ransom suddenly speaks from the doorway. He was leaning on the frame with his shoulder accompanied by the usual sneer on his face. He was also still dressed from his morning workout, a too tight sponsored dry-fit shirt and compression leggings under shorts. You rake your eyes down his frame and pause.
“Umm, I—I was trying to—Uhh, Linda told me to make sure our outfits were coordinated for the weekend down to the labels so I’m just…” He scoffs and enters his own bedroom where you made a mess of his and your suitcases. One of your tasks for this contracted relations was to appear as soulmate-y as possible and his team’s publicist thought that matching outfits translated true love. Yeah, right.
Ransom starts to shed his clothes without concern for your presence. A usual occurrence by now but still makes you flustered. You turn to give him some privacy as he drops his boxerbriefs to the floor, kicking them off to his hamper. You catch a little glimpse of his backside on the vanity mirror beside the door before he slides the bathroom door shut, making your ears turn hot.
“Keep it cool, girl. This is to appease your mother. Get it together!” you mumble to yourself as you fold his clothes and place them on top of yours before putting them inside the suitcase. “If all turns out well, everything will be back to normal and you can go back to living on campus. This is easy!”
“What are you muttering to yourself about?” You pause your movements again as you spy Ransom on the mirror standing behind you in nothing but a small towel around his waist. You shake your head and brush him off, continuing to fold clothes into pairs. You even pack his underwear, all sponsored by Calvin Klein as part of the perks of being their ambassador, tucking them into a small laundry bag before placing them in the suitcase as well.
“Here,” you hum questioningly as you turn around to face him. He hands you two blue jumpers, one larger than the other as you inspect it. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs exasperatingly, “I got those as a pair so we can wear them tomorrow when we enter the paddocks. I know you have a test on Saturday, I saw your schedule on your ipad—don’t try and lie to me. Wear that with a skirt or something, I don’t care. Just wrap all of this up so I can have my room back and you can go read your stupid dolphin diaries.”
“They’re migration patterns, actually-”
Before you could even thank him, he disappears back into his bathroom and the shower turns on immediately. You inspect the garment and see the tag on the back. YSL—these were two-thousand euros sweaters! Each! You wondered if you could return these and buy ten Zara versions instead in every color. But you push it back and fix everything, zipping up your bags and tidying up his room. You yell a thank you to Ransom before leaving his apartment and going back to yours.
---
--
-
Ransom is annoyed. He often is but right now more so. His parents have managed to weasel a hoard of free-loaders in with VIP passes to the track: his mother’s social climbing friends, his father’s drinking buddies who think they know more about the sport than he did.
The worst part was that you weren’t around yet to be his buffer. You always had a way with people and he suspects that he was only likeable and tolerable when you were around. It also couldn’t hurt that you looked good together, upping his hotness score by about one hundred when you stood next to each other. Plus, you weren’t terrible to be around with. Once you got caffeine in you, you were witty and funny. And when you’ve had champagne in you, you were attentive, affectionate and maybe a little bit horny.
The fact that his mother picked you to be his for-show girlfriend after sponsors thought his womanizing and erratic lifestyle was not a good image for their brands, was a match made in PR heaven. If Ransom weren’t such a pompous asshole he’d even say you were the girl of his dreams, too. Although, he’ll never admit it to his mother, much more to himself.
He looks around the interview paddock, surrounded by guests from different teams and their drivers’ families and friends. He eyes Nick Fowler as the driver walks past smiling and giggling as the man gets congratulated by that girl who was always with him. Prick. Ransom rolls his eyes and drinks his sponsored energy drink, trying to re-hydrate post race.
He’s barely paying attention to the journalist in front of him. He’s looking for you. Where the fuck were you? You should be here by now handing him a towel, smiling and congratulating him for scoring points. He needed you to show up before his hair dries totally. Ransom knows you like his helmet hair, damp and all tussled up sexily. He’s seen you lick your lips while he tames his strands and pushes them backwards. Shit– he really should not think of your big round eyes while you look at him shyly in front of all these people. Ransom clears his throat and tries to focus on the questions the person in front of him was saying before he gets a full boner.
He finishes all his post qualifying race duties with the media and the fans, yelling at his assistant to hand him his phone. He was extra mean as he was upset about you being absent. His race engineer calls his attention, reminding him of the team briefing for notes that he might have to improve the car for tomorrow’s race but he doesn’t care right now.
He spots you, hand raised to wave at him. He has venom in his tongue, something scathing towards you for abandoning him, your duties to him and being selfish when it was specifically stated in your contract that you had to be there for him after he crosses the finish line. However, Ransom notices something was off about you as he approaches.
Your usual bright demeanor was clouded, a skill he’s proud to have developed over the months of fake dating you. To an outsider, you seem like your normal self but Ransom observes the way your shoulders were slightly raised, hands fidgety and fingers fiddly. Plus the fact that you seemed to be passively listening to his mother’s quips, nodding but not really getting what she was saying. Then as he comes closer, he notices the redness around your eyes.
“What the fuck did you do, mother?”
Long stomping strides bring him quickly to you, a hiss escaping his teeth as he accuses his parent as the source of your barely hidden misery. Linda Drysdale scoffs and clutches her too many strings of pearls at a disbelief of her only son’s nerve.
“I did nothing of whatever sort you must be thinking. You know her and her weak disposition, crying for the most random reasons.” Linda rolls her eyes, something that she and Ransom have very much in common. Along with almost everything terrible he had which were all inherited from her.
Ransom’s mother laughs in that practiced fake laugh of hers, plastering a smile on her face for the dozens of cameras that were pointed at them. She was about to berate you when Ransom hugs you– a surprise to her and yourself.
“I’m sorry I was late, I was trying to–” You pull away from his embrace, wiping another stray tear that rolls down your cheek. “But it’s nothing, Linda is right– I was just being silly.”
You always do this, brush off whatever you were thinking and feeling because you felt the duty to serve whatever agreement your parents had with one another. It annoyed him to no end. Yes, he’ll admit that you being agreeable, pliant and just down right submissive to him was hot but Ransom also found himself craving your thoughts and opinions on him, on anything really. He could listen to you talk about sea turtles and weird aquatic mating rituals of moray eels while your eyes sparkle and run out of breath trying to get out as much information as you could.
So he shoves his helmet to his mother’s arms and grabs your hand, dragging you to the nearest office he finds. You protest meekly as camera shutters rapidly take note of the unusual interaction between you and the paddock’s biggest asshole but Ransom is undeterred. He slides open a glass door and barks at the employees inside to get out. You flinch as they scramble to leave their posts but Ransom squeezes your hand as you both wait for them to leave. When everyone is gone, he shuts the door and locks it.
Ransom drags a chair and points at it with his free hand. You take a seat, wiping another errant tear with the hand he wasn’t holding. He crouches down in front of you with a loud huff before completely kneeling.
“Tell me what’s wrong. What did Linda do?”
You’re surprised at how soft his voice was while asking you. It gives you the courage to look him in the eyes, seeing the concern etched on his face. You shake your head and Ransom takes your other hand in his.
“She didn’t do anything, I swear, Ran.” he responds with a sigh, not believing your statement. “It was me. I– I messed up. I had a test and I missed it and my professor is so strict I don’t think he’d listen to my excuse.”
“You missed… a test?” you nod slowly at his question.Ransom is fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Didn’t you wake up early to prepare for it? I saw you fixing the table in the room to use it earlier–”
“I forgot the time difference, okay? I wrote it down at 9am but I forgot to…”
“To adjust the time zone for here. So you missed it by two hours.”
You nod as the waterworks start again. Ransom looks around and finds a box of tissues, reaching for it to wipe your tears. He should be annoyed at how simple your problem was to be making you leak from your eye sockets this way. But he isn’t. He knows how much your doctorate means to you despite not needing that level of education with the money you were going to inherit from your parents.
“I told you it’s nothing.” you sniffle and try to put on a smile for him. His heart skips a beat at the way you were looking at him. Ever the asshole, he stands up abruptly and tosses you the box of tissues.
“Yeah, it is nothing.” Ransom dusts off his racing suit and fixes his hair. Clearing his throat he looks for a comforting thing to say. “I’ll deal with it.”
“What? How?”
“I said, I will deal with it. Leave it to me. I’ll help you fix it.”
You squeal in delight and jump into his arms. Ransom catches you, slightly in shock that you were not only initiating touching him but also that you were squeezing the life out of him.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
You repeat your gratitude and pepper his face with kisses. Something snaps in him and he pulls his head back a little before catching your lips with his.
At first your puckered lips stay put but he opens them with his tongue, sliding it in between until you allow him entrance. Then you find yourself fervently kissing him, your own tongue writing your thank you’s on his. It was sloppy and joyful and oh, so fucking fulfilling. You’ve never been kissed like this before and you were glad this was from Ransom.
You finally pull away breathless while Ransom chases your lips. You giggle and give him a soft peck that he adds on.
“Thank you, Ran. I mean it.” You bump your nose with his and he smiles at the gesture, rubbing his nose on your face fondly.
A knock on the glass wall interrupts you two. HIs engineer can be seen outside the office raising a piece of paper that says “we need to start briefing” while he looked apologetic.
You gasp and push yourself away from Ransom when you see his team milling about the otherside of the wall. The office was completely visible to all the employees in the garage. Ransom settles you down on your feet slowly, hesitant to let you go but his engineer knocks on the glass again, an obvious ploy to annoy and tease him.
“Wait for me to finish the briefing?” he asks softly, rubbing a thumb gently on your cheek as he cups your jaw. You nod and he places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away to unlock the door.
Both of you walk out of the room hand in hand as whistling greets you. Some of the mechanics yelling teases at Ransom or congratulating him. Your face heats up at the attention but he just reminds you to wait for him in his driver’s room. You smile at him and walk away giddy.
In the privacy of Ransom’s room, the kiss replays in your head in an endless loop. The warmth of his lips still resonates in yours. Restless, you start tidying up his things and looking around the small space that was decorated to his liking. You were so preoccupied that when your phone rang you answered it absentmindedly.
“Coucou, ma fille!” your mother’s voice brings you back to the present and you straighten your back, correcting your posture even though she can’t see you.
“Maman!”
“Just checking in! I know you’re busy but me and your papa miss you, don’t we mon cher?” you hear your father respond with a muffled yes, probably had a cigar between his teeth while speaking. “He said oui, my love. De toute façon, which are you more excited for, huh?”
“For what, maman?”
You place your phone on top of the small bench that doubled as a bed and put your mother on speaker while you try and arrange Ransom’s shelf. It was scattered with random things from mini helmets and other team merchandise to gifts that his fans gave him so far this weekend. You smile fondly at polaroid photos of you together that the social media team had taken.
“Well, the end of your semester and the end of the race season. Mais je suis sûr you want the racing to be over so that you can get out of that little contract maman put you in, yes?” your mother chuckles self satisfactorily. “Don’t worry my future doctor, only three more races and that contract is finie. Then you can find yourself an actual l’amoureux.”
You jerk your arm suddenly and elbow a couple of things off the shelf sending them all to the floor. Three more races? Then you and Ransom are done. Your ears ring as your kiss from earlier replays in your head. Right, that was pretend.
“I’ll call you back, ma! Something came up!” you rush and hang up on your mother. How could you have forgotten that you and Ransom had an expiration date? And that all of this was show.
You pick up the fallen objects one by one until you gather the polaroid photos. Your favorite one was this one where he was hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek. You and a couple of people from his team went bowling after you landed early to enjoy the facilities before the tourists and spectators flooded the city for the grand prix. Ransom had drank a couple of beers that made him a little tipsy and a lot clingy. He always needed to be touching you whenever he had drinks in him. Aside from the quick pecks on the lips or cheek kisses, he’d never kissed you before today. And he wasn’t even drunk.
You sigh and replace the things back on the shelf. You liked kissing him, sure. But it was impossible to know if Ransom liked kissing you. Liked it enough to maybe continue to do it even outside a signed agreement. Dejectedly, you flop yourself on his makeshift bed and count the days until the season ends.
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seat-safety-switch · 1 year
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Over at Disneyland, they have this ride. It’s about a haunted elevator or something, and it’s faulty. You get in, and then it pretends to malfunction, and drops your ass for a bit. It’s scary, haha wow I can’t believe my brain thought we were going to die, let’s go again. Except I went on it, and nothing happened. no pleasant frisson of adrenaline. No fight-or-flight reaction. My fingernails didn’t even dig into the handles.
Have you already figured out what happened? I did too. Years of driving the most reckless and barely-held-together shitboxes have fried my sympathetic nervous system. This phenomenon is not unlike when the voltage regulator in your alternator fails and makes your dashboard Very Bright Indeed until it stops lighting up altogether. Ordinary people think that just having the brakes fail is terrifying. For me, it’s an excuse to see what the city’s landscaping team does with all the taxes I evade. I could probably drive a rental car the wrong way down the highway at full speed without even raising my heart rate. Maybe I already have; I thought I got back from work yesterday a little early.
Once that I realized that my unique cocktail of pharmacological and automobilic abuses had rendered me unable to enjoy overpriced theme park entertainment, I decided to do something about it. After all, I’m pretty good at fixing stuff, which you might not believe if you look too closely at the car I drive to work. Rest assured that I am good: I just don’t bother doing a good job. I decided to go to do some DIY electroshock therapy. Since my neighbour was out of town for the weekend, and because power costs a lot of money, I chose to use his outlet.
The procedure is simple. Whenever I saw something that was meant to be conventionally scary, I gave myself a painful zap. In this way, I was gradually retraining my brain into the fear response when encountering things that were less terrifying than “wheel bearing split into four parts at highway speed.” It only took a few minutes until I went a little bit too far and tripped the neighbour’s breaker, knocking out that outlet. That’s enough for one day, I figured, and resolved to visit Disneyland again in the morning.
Friends: let me be the first to tell you, this procedure (psychological research journals are calling it “the Switch Method”) did not work. I had rushed through the initial prep and failed to realize that what I was actually doing was making myself afraid of electrical cords. Disneyland has a lot of those, but you don’t need to go inside the park to see them. You can, instead, lie paralyzed in a public washroom, turbo-terrified that a length of copper-clad-aluminum and orange rubberized weatherproof insulation is actually a poisonous snake. I wish I had figured that out before I paid the full ticket price, though.
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The Taming of Man: chapter three - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader
I'm pretty sure I'm starting to burn out a little, so while these chapters are only a couple days a part, the next ones might have a bigger gap. Still loving this so far, the plot is plotting, and I hope you love it too!
This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.
Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters, Shirtless Katsuki, hints at a toxic relationship between reader and her mother, slight misogyny
Words: 2,513
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The walk home was different than the walk back for Katsuki. First of all, it was nightfall, so he had to rely on his limited, albeit better than human, night vision.
Leaving Nebel was easy enough, all he had to do was walk in any direction and it seemed to teleport him right to the border between it and Leben, which was a lot quieter than before.
Schatz wasn't so glittery in the moonlight as the sunlight, making it easier to ignore (Despite his stupid lizard brain wanting nothing more than to build the shiniest nest), and no animals seemed to live in it, meaning less danger.
Eisen was a little taxing, because he had to climb up the sturdy and unmoving orange trees, walk on it's branches above, and then climb back down, but at least it didn't feel so eerie and liminal as the last three.
And lastly, there was Böse, the forest he knew well, as alive and bitter as ever. Home. He made his way past the clusters of Portobello mushrooms and thickets of thistles (the one he beat still withered on the ground), over the Acrimony tree roots, and around the rocks covered in Magma Moss. He could see the exit, the clearing of trees, leading to the back of his Palace.
He knew everyone would probably be asleep, or at least resting in bed, so as he made his way through the courtyard and to the royal kitchen door he tried his best not to raise any red flags. He crept through the halls, climbing lengths of stairs all the way to his chambers. He walked past his study, stopped at the bathroom to piss and replace his substitute shirt bandages with actual gauze, crept into his bedroom, and quietly shut the door behind him.
His room was dark and warm, if that made sense, his bedframe made of rich oak, his linen sheets parylene red, his shelves lined with books, a mirror framed in gold hanging above his mahogany desk, and the entire area being lit by yellow flames resting on candles. He sighed with relief, glad he didn't wake anyone who might have questions. Since he told everyone he was going camping, he'd have to explain why he was back so soon.
"Dude, why do you smell weird?"
Katsuki jumped, spinning around to see his personal servant Kirishima standing in his room preparing his clothes for the next day. Katsuki huffed and shook his head, gritting his teeth. "None of your damn business..." he grumbled, beginning to undress. Kirishima grabbed him his pajamas, which he changed into without another word. "Weren't you supposed to be camping," he asks, to which Katsuki borderline shouts, "Weren't you supposed to be minding your damn business?"
Kiri just laughs a little and finishes with Katsuki's clothes, coming over and patting his shoulder. "Fine, don't tell me, but I know a pretty girl when I smell one" he taunts, singsonging "Pretty girl" and making his way to the door. Katsuki tensed, his teeth gritting a little. "What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, trying not to give away the fact that he was right.
Ejiro turns around, an amused grin on his face. "Last I checked, honey and roses aren't a part of your natural scent," he laughs. Katsuki pursed his lips, face turning red and eye twitching a little. "...Don't you have more important things to do," he barked, evading the situation with all the grace of an elephant in skates.
Ejiro sighed, shaking his head with a smile and leaving. Katsuki relaxed a little once he left, settling into bed and getting ready to sleep. Damn it...he did smell like honey and roses. It was probably that stupid hug she gave him, all soft and close and relaxing...
He pushed his face into his red silk pillow, groaning loudly into it and squeezing his eyes shut.
Going home for you was easy, all you had to do was grab your things, go through the portal, and walk through the forest until you reached the palace. It was late, but not as late as it could have been, so you had to pay closer attention to the little rocks and roots that might trip you, even if they always seemed to move out of the way.
you knew from first glance that everyone was settling in, the courtyard lacking the busy and energetic sounds it usually had, and so you felt safe enough to climb back up the wall and waltz in to the palace like nothing happened.
"Where have you been," Ururaka whisper-shouted, standing in the middle of the courtyard and apparently looking for you. She had her hands on her hips, her brows creased as she stared you down sternly. "..." you turned around, moving to climb back up the wall. "Get over here," she ordered, making you wonder who the servant really was here, and you begrudgingly obliged. "You're lucky you got back when you did, your mother is looking for you! Do you realize how long you've "Been in the bath?" A very long time, (Y/n)!" You smiled, giggling a little as Ochako led you to your chambers and helped you strip to put on your pajamas. "What," she whined, clearly this who thing stressed her out. "You lied for me," you said blithely, putting your arms up as she slipped the silk nightdress over your head. Ururaka was silent for a moment, before relaxing a bit. "Well, yeah, what was I supposed to do? Now come on!" She yanked you out of your bedroom, the two of you dashing to the throne room to meet with your mother. You both slowed once you neared it, walking gracefully in and curtsying at where your mother sat on the center throne. She looked just like you, or rather you looked like her, with the same hair color and eye shape, the same grace surrounding you turned to regality surrounding her.
She glided down to you, taking you by the arm and beginning to walk you away from your maid and to the gardens. "is...something the matter," you asked, hiding your fear of the fact that she might have found out about your near-daily escapades to the other realm. The two of you stepped out, now walking among the rows and rows of roses in all colors. You loved these roses, how elegant they were, you even had them made into perfume, along with some sweet fruit blossoms that grew locally in the gardens.
"Not at all...actually, I have something to run by you."
Crap. When she wanted to "run something by you," she really just meant that she would tell you something, and then you'd agree. "What is it," you asked brightly, hoping not to let on that you in fact were not enthusiastic about this. "Well, you're getting to the age where...you see, when I was twenty I already had you and..." she was struggling to put things lightly for you, so she just came out with it. "Some suitors are coming by this week to...chat with you." Double crap. A suitor? Wasn't all this a little early? You supposed they must be eager, after all your kingdom was the only kingdom around. Any man put before you would be a grand duke at best, and the way things worked in your country, he would be brought up to be prince instead of you being brought down to be duchess.
"Lovely," you sighed, smiling at your mother to show how "happy" you were. She smiled back, taking your face in her hands and kissing your forehead. "My perfect princess...you always do the right thing," she said contentedly. "Yep..." you responded, nodding. what were you going to do?
"I think you'll find my manor to be quite satisfying to your needs, princess, although of course we have no female wait staff, so we may need to blah blah blah blah bladi blah..."
You smiled and nodded along, listening to a sales pitch as to who you should sleep with for the rest of your life. This was going to be a rough week. You might have responded, if the corset around your waist weren't so breathtaking. You remember being squeezed in to it, Ochako's foot on the wall you faced for support as she pulled the laces tightly.
You didn't mind the dress, a soft pink and cream colored gown with floral lace detailing and pink heels to match, your hair fixed in yet another bun, but it was uncomfortable as hell. Besides, you had plans! Your basket was currently sitting in your room on the vanity, containing the health elixir you would give to Katsuki. It was stupidly easy to make, using few and abundant ingredients, the hardest part being sneaking into the palace Enchantment Room and waiting for it to brew.
All that was left to go and give it to him, you'd finally be able to learn about the world beyond your realm! It'd be great, you could just feel- oh shit, wait, this guy's walking up to you now.
He took your hand and kissed it, looking up at you flirtatiously. You smiled with all the grace you could muster, taking your hand away as quickly as possible without alarming suspicion. "well, this was lovely, but I must go..." you looked over at Ururaka, who screamed "don't you dare," with her eyes, before looking back at the man and continuing to smile. "and attend to womanly things." He just nodded absent mindedly, it was the perfect trump card over any ignorant man, and watched as you stood and walked off to your chambers, practically gliding. The second you were up the first flight of stairs, you kicked off your heels and booked it to your room. No way in hell you'd be late, even if you didn't necessarily plan a time you knew this was an hour or two past when you left yesterday, and therefore around the time Katsuki would be there.
You had no time to change, so you just grabbed your basket, double checked for the potion, and began to run out the door. You slid to a stop though, pausing for a second. Quickly, you grabbed a little piece of paper, a pen, and quickly scribbled. "In the forest, don't wait up!" You didn't want Ururaka to worry.
You ran back out, out the window, up the wall, through the forest, to the creek, and into the water. You swam up, tossing your basket out first, and then hoisting yourself up. Once again, you were immediately dry, and you breathed in the fresh air of the ever-alive forest.
Looking around, you noticed Katsuki wasn't here yet, so you just took a seat on the stump. Bored for the first time ever in this place, knowing you could be interacting with a real life Dragonborne, you began singing. It was the same song you always sang, the song your countrymen knew so well. You never stopped singing, even when you ended the song, something inside you just compelled you to do it.
After about 10 minutes, Katsuki pushed his way through the brush, this time wearing a shirt and carrying a satchel. You turned to him with a smile, waving at him from your seat. "Heyyy Katsuki! I brought you the potion!" Katsuki made his way over, sitting down beside you. "Why're you so excited, 's not like we're doing anything fun," he huffed. You laughed a little, taking out the bottle out of your basket. It was cylindrical and sealed with a cork, the liquid inside golden and glittering in the sun.
"Oh but we are, you don't know how much I've been looking forward to this." You were that excited? For some reason, he found that a little endearing. He knew you weren't excited to spend time with him specifically, anyone could have walked through and you surely would have been equally happy, but it still did something to his cold little heart.
"whatever...So how does this thing work?" He took the bottle from you, surprisingly gentle, his calloused and scarred hands grazing yours. The sensation on your hand lingered a little, making your heart beat just a little faster. Why did he make you feel like this? He was rude at best, and yet something about his brutish nature made your cheeks heat.
"Well, you apply it to whatever wound you want, unless you're healing a sickness, then you drink it." You took the bottle back and popped open the top, the thick scent of vanilla and mint pouring out. His nose wrinkled at the strength a little, which was adorable, and wordlessly took his shirt off. He planned on putting it on those thistle punctures, and he needed to have his shirt off to do that.
"Do you always do that," you asked with amusement, this being the second time you've seen him shirtless and the second time you've seen him period. "Shut up," he grumbled, tossing his shirt aside. "Yeah yeah, what are you gonna use it for?"
Katsuki sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes to you. "What do you think? Look at my arm," he scoffed. It was true, the little holes were pretty gross looking, so you shrugged. "Well, hold still, it might sting," You said, to which he replied, "huh," before you applied it to his wounds with your fingers. "Hey," he barked out, pulling away from you. You frowned, pulling back ever so slightly.
"Relax, Ok? It's not gonna kill you," you said, gently coaxing him with your voice. He stared at you hesitantly, before sitting in a little closer and holding still. You smiled at him and got a little more of the potion on your fingers, gently rubbing it in to each of his wounds. He was wincing a little, so little you could hardly notice, but the punctures disappeared almost immediately as you healed him.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" You corked the bottle, putting it back in your basket. "Shut up! I was just surprised, because... because your hands are so damn cold!" He was clearly making that up, the sting definitely startled him a little. "ok, I get it, you're super strong and tough, now what are you teaching me today?"
"Just shut up already...and you're learning about the countries today." He opened his satchel, pulling out a rolled up map. There was one big circular mass in the center of it, with scraggly lines separating the borders inside it. There were perfect rings surrounding the very center, each one labeled with the names of the forest rings. You could see where he scribbled the words, "YOU ARE HERE," with an arrow pointing to the very center ring.
"Wow," you whispered, the way your eyes lit up tugged at Katsuki's heart strings. You really found this interesting, didn't you? He was silent for a moment, staring at your side profile, before quickly getting a grip.
"Right, So this is the Atlantic ocean..."
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Gosh, I hope reader doesn't sound stupid 😅 If she does, I hope you'll see in later chapters that she's really not. Anyways, please comment what you thought, I love hearing it! If you have any questions, please direct them to my Ask Me box :)
Taglist: @sky-angel101 @the-galaxy-fiend
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meret118 · 1 year
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As one of their first moves in the House majority—after their little struggle to even elect a speaker, that is—Republicans have a bill to roll back more than $70 billion in IRS funding included in the Inflation Reduction Act. In fact, fresh off his contentious election as speaker, Kevin McCarthy bragged about this plan, saying, “I know the night is late, but when we come back our very first bill will repeal the funding for 87,000 new IRS agents.” (That 87,000 number is a lie, by the way.)
Funny story, though: The Congressional Budget Office is out with its estimate of the fiscal impact of this bill cutting more than $70 billion … and it would decrease federal revenue by $186 billion between 2023 and 2032. In other words, the bill would cost more than $114
The claim here is that it’s going to help the little people—they’re even calling the bill the “Family and Small Business Taxpayer Protection Act”—because that sounds a lot better than admitting that the Inflation Reduction Act’s IRS funding is about making sure the very wealthiest pay the taxes they owe. Yes, it means hiring new auditors, but ones specifically tasked with pursuing wealthy tax evaders, not small businesses or families making less than hundreds of thousands of dollars a year.
In fact, households with earnings of less than $400,000 a year “will likely see the chance of an audit decline,” according to the Treasury Department. That’s because right now, the lowest-income households are audited at far higher rates than the highest-income ones. The money that Republicans want to repeal is intended to change that.
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fortunes-haven · 6 months
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New Gimleaf idea: Robin Hood AU
Now, at first I thought it would be fun to subvert expectations and make Gimli Hood particularly talented with axes, while his secret sweetheart Legolas is the ward/child of King John Thranduil. Presumably in this version King Richard Thorin and Lord Gandalf are off on the crusades liberating the Lonely Mountain until the plot requires them to return.
But then I decided no, that might be subverting one obvious choice (Legolas being the much more obvious Robin Hood), but it's not capitalizing nearly as much on the possible fun you could have by doing it the other way around.
I think the characterizations allow much more interesting stories if Gimli "Silvertongue" is in court spying for his lover while Legolas runs around the forest protecting the deer, shooting spiders, and exulting in trees. The king is upset with this because whenever he wants venison, he instead gets another huntsman with a hole in his hat. Also, the spiders are supposed to keep people from living in the forest to evade taxes.
Speaking of the king, in this version you can put a gold-mad Thorin in for King John, making him complex and sympathetic but still inclined to yell things like "triple the taxes!" Thranduil, meanwhile, used to be a lord but when some Dwarves ransacked his castle he moved to the forest and doesn't leave his fancy tree cave now. (Sure, why not give Robin Hood an alive dad?)
In this version, King Richard is Queen Dis, and she is not happy when she comes back to find out what her brother's been doing. Gandalf, meanwhile, plays the part of Friar Tuck, not a member of any faction except [the] God[s]', but always willing to help or join in a good joke. Hobbits naturally make for good Merry Men and/or townspeople, and you can pop in Saruman and the Witch King for the Sheriff and Guy of Gisbourne.
Now, Aragorn is a puzzle. It's easiest to just not include him, and since this is an AU, that's totally on the table. If you try to add him to the Merry Men, his innate leadership skills put him in charge, so either he becomes Robin Hood or suddenly Little John (or whoever) is calling the shots. If you add him to the aristocrats, he should be king and away on the crusade analog. Boromir has similar issues if you try to shoehorn him in while keeping true to his LotR characterization.
Instead, I think it works best if you take advantage of the malleable nature of Robin Hood stories and add them in as special guest stars. Maybe Aragorn joins the Merry Men for a bit as "Thorongil"; he's from a nearby kingdom and has some sort of ~secret destiny~ but Legohood has forbidden the hobbits from bothering him about it. Maybe he's looking for a broken sword or something, and when he gets drunk is waxes rhapsodic about his lady love Arwen.
Boromir, meanwhile, is very concerned about this dragon that King Thorin keeps provoking (it lives right by his town Gondor), and is desperate for aid in stopping it. Aragorn offers to go with him, and lo! The broken sword was in the dragon hoard the whole time. This is reported via letters/gossip periodically in-between robbing tax caravans and participating in archery contests or whatever, because wasn't this a Gimleaf story...?
Going back to gold-mad King Thorin, I think that this story would be primarily told from Gimli's perspective, about how he's worried about his uncle but also very concerned for the people and the country, trying to do his best without any actual power in the court, secret meetings with his love who is very brave but also very likely to get himself killed he keeps making a name for himself, so would he please stop and just let Gimli take care of him? No? Sigh, well, if he were the sort to put his own needs about that of the people he wouldn't be the idiot Gimli loves, but couldn't he at least avoid the really obvious archery contest traps? Or tell Gimli in advance so Gimli can come along and provide backup?
And what the hey, let's say Thranduil got blinded when he lost his castle. When he first meets Gimli, he likes him right away because it's obvious how much he loves Legloas and they both agree that he (Legolas) really ought to be about a thousand times more cautious than he actually is. But - Thranduil also talks about how much he hates dwarves. Awkward. Should they tell him? A long-running argument/concern, until Pippin the Miller's son accidentally spills the beans. Whoops! Uh, Legolas would love to stay and talk about this with his dad, really, but he has a jailbreak to organize so... bye.
Naturally, things all end happily, with Thorin finally coming out of his gold madness after the arrival of his sister. Bilbo can be there too if you want, or Dain, or hell, there are some Thorin/Thranduil shippers out there, how about a touching scene where Thorin offers to rebuild Thranduil's castle for him? But of course Thranduil is now one with the forest, so he doesn't need a castle anymore, but did you know there's no gold at all in his tree cave...?
Gimli and Legolas get married, and Pippin makes the "outlaw for an inlaw!" joke because someone has to. Gimli says if Thorin really wants to build someone a castle he and his new husband could use one to house unfortunates and run a soup kitchen and such, but of course it will need to be near the forest to keep Legolas from driving Gimli insane. Oh, and Legolas' deer-protecting and spider-killing activities are officially supported by the crown now.
After the credits roll, we see Aragorn return. He stops at the church to see Friar Gandalf and show him a small gold ring that was in the dragon's cave...
Anyway, that's my idea for a Gimleaf Robin Hood (kinda) AU.
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hey maggots you see this human on my wall? it's @random-doctor-on-the-internet and they're my tax-evading husband and my best friend and they don't realise how loved they are so i'm here to BE VERY INTENSE ABOUT IT.
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Ash listen here you little shit (/pepperoni) I love you so so so fucking much. The only reason I was brave enough to make the post about dropping out of college was because you spent the whole night before talking to me and telling me that my pain was valid and that I didn't deserve to go through that. And I'm still so scared of doing it I get more scared every moment but I'm trying to be brave like you are.
Now I hear you denying that immediately so with all the love in the world my angel SHUT UP. You're so so so fucking brave and so kind and gentle despite going through things no one should have to go through, much less someone who was a goddamn child. And you make people laugh with your mafia stories even though that whole part of your life must have been so so fucking traumatic and yet look at you, using it to bring joy to other strangers on the internet.
I'm so fucking amazed that you agreed to be my friend (after my four slide presentation on why you should, in fact, agree to be my friend) and it's such an honour to know you. You don't understand how amazing you are and how LOVED YOU ARE, OKAY? I LOVE YOU. YOU FOOL. UNDERSTAND IT. AND IF YOU DON'T THAT'S FINE I'LL KEEP REMINDING YOU.
I'M MAKING THIS A POST BECAUSE I NEED EVERYONE WHO READS IT TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE A BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING INSIDE AND OUT (PRETTIER THAN TIMOTHEE CHALAMET) AND YOU'RE SO PATIENT AND KIND TO ME AND YOU'RE SO INTELLIGENT LIKE JESUS FUCK WATCHING YOU TALK TO PEOPLE IN AFRIKAANS SCOTTISH GAELIC FRENCH AND LIKE TEN OTHER LANGUAGES IN THE SAME CONVERSATION IS INSANE. AND YOUR ART IS FUCKING UNREAL IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S BREATHING OUT OF THE PAPER. AND YOU'RE GOING TO BE SUCH AN AMAZING DOCTOR. AND YOU'VE GONE THROUGH LITERAL PHYSICAL TORTURE BUT YOU CAME OUT OF IT AND YOU SURVIVED AND I'M SO GLAD YOU DID BECAUSE IT MEANS I GOT TO KNOW YOU AND THAT'S AMAZING. OH AND YOU'RE SO INCREDIBLY FUNNY YOU MAKE ME LAUGH EVERY CONVERSATION.
DID YOU UNDERSTAND? PROBABLY NOT BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO SELF-DEPRECATING FOR YOUR OWN GOOD. BUT I HOPE YOU UNDERSTOOD JUST A LITTLE MORE. JE T'AIME VRAIMENT MON CHOU TU ES INCROYABLE ET JE SUIS SI HEUREUX QUE TU ES MON AMI.
SO. YES. *AGGRESSIVELY HUGS YOU*
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