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#and then maybe get enough mortgage

seananmcguire · 10 months

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That Xiran Jay Zhao video about the amount of time it takes to get paid by the publisher, a couple of time she says "that's just the way it is." Are there actual, legitimate business reasons for holding off paying someone 6 or 8 or more months what they've earned for their book? Or is it the publisher basically going "We'll pay you when we pay you. What are you gonna do about it?" because they're essentially the one in charge?

And is it the same for all authors? Or is there an unofficial "tier" system based on your name? Are they telling people like Stephen King or James Patterson or Neil Gaiman "you'll see your money in 8 months" or are they more likely to be getting monthly checks just because of who they are?

There are some legitimate business reasons, yes.

Okay, so let's look at the way a book is sold to a publisher. I'm going to use very round numbers, because I don't want to do a lot of math right now. So say I sell a book for $15,000 under the traditional three installment contract--signing, delivery/acceptance, and publication. What this means is I sign the contract, I get a $5,000 check! Yay! I will also get checks when the book is turned in and accepted, emphasis because it means I can't just give them a word jumble and claim I turned the book in, and then again when the book comes out. We're ignoring side situations like "book is never turned in" and "book is never published."

But wait! My agent gets 15% off the top of each of those checks, which isn't a whole lot at $5,000--$750--but means I'm receiving effectively a $4,250 check, and then waiting maybe a year for the next one.

In the US, 1/3rd of that check goes automatically to taxes, and I cannot math that very well, but it's about $1,416. So I'm left with $2,834 as my payment for the year. This is why most authors will have day jobs.

This structure makes sense. They pay you to call dibs on your book: they pay you when the dibs pan out: they pay you when they can start making money. Now, recently, some publishers have started going to a four stage advance payment, and I can't see any real justification for that. Maybe someone will give me one. I'd be fascinated to know what it is.

So here's the thing: until the book is out, there is no more money. You've been paid for the book, but it's not making money for the publisher yet, and so of course you're not getting more money. It used to be the expectation that your advance would pay your bills while you wrote the next book; that is clearly no longer the case. I live in Seattle. A single check from a three-stage advance isn't paying my mortgage for a month. But.

Once the book is out, it can start making money, and that's when things get complicated. Say a bookstore places an order for 10 copies of AWESOME NEW BESTSELLER. Yay! That should be ten sales, and ten units of whatever your royalty is, right? Only these are physical items, and bookstores can return them, so your publisher marks it down as "ten sales, five reserve against returns," meaning you're only getting credit for five sales until the return window (usually a year) runs out. Where it gets a little hinky is when the bookstore sells all ten and orders ten more, and the publisher still has it marked as "five (now ten) reserve against returns." Basically, you're only getting credit for half your sales until that reserve window closes.

Sadly, thanks to certain retailer policies, this has been grandfathered into applying to electronic sales as well.

TL,DR: The delay in royalty payments is to give bookstores time to sell the books, and mean that your publisher doesn't pay you for a hundred sales, only to ask for the money from fifty to be given back when books are returned. This could happen faster in the modern world, but that would involve publishers paying us faster, and they like to keep the money in their hands as long as possible.

To the best of my knowledge, no one is A Big Enough Author that they can demand their money now, right now. And this is why trad publishing continues to self-select for the wealthy and the young.

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

[Chapter 1] New Beginnings

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Creampie, Cum Play

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Not even two months after your husband’s death, you find yourself completely broke. There’s no more jewelry or rare items in your house that are actually worth something. You don’t have any more furniture that you can sell. The money you make is barely enough to pay the mortgage to your house. Leading to only one option:

Selling the house.

You hold many memories dear to you between the house’s walls, but at some point your basic necessities are more important than mere memories. You have many pictures that can help you recall the happy moments, which should be enough for some time. Maybe one day you can rebuy the house, but for now you don’t count on it.

In the end, the house is far too big for a single person. And too gloomy for you. The sun doesn’t shine and brightens the house like it used to. Lately every corner is dark, full of recollections of him and his life. It completely brings you down because he’s gone.

When you pack everything up is when you come to the realization that you’re better off elsewhere. Somewhere that’s big enough for you, a place you can afford. A place that doesn’t bring back the happy memories that not too long after turn gloomy and sorrowful. Somewhere you can start fresh and forget about it all. Forget the first twenty-four years of your life. Even the happiest moments.

Your quest to forget leads you to the outskirts of town, finding an apartment cheap enough that allows you to take two months off work to live off the bit of your savings and the profit of selling the house– But of course, you won’t be doing that. You’ll find a job immediately and use your savings to buy what you need and buy some of the furniture that you had sold.

But right now you aren’t all too worried about what couch you want for your living room, instead you’re more concerned about getting the mattress up to your floor and into your room. You rented a moving truck and managed to convince the old grumpy neighbor next door to help you pack up some of the stuff, but now he’s miles away. You have no idea what you’re going to do next because you have no idea who anyone is.

So you stand outside the building, arms crossed as you try your best to figure out what you’ll do next. You can try to carry all of it to the third floor, but that won’t be too easy or good for you. You decide to leave it there for a moment and begin to go upstairs to finally see your new apartment. You were in a rush to find a cheap place to move to, and you didn’t even bother to check the unit out. You don’t really care if the place is luxurious or if it’s the biggest dump in the place, you just want to figure out where you’ll be putting your stuff.

It feels like quite a workout when you get to the third floor, making you put your hands on your knees and pant for a moment. You realize that getting your stuff upstairs won’t be such an easy task, but you’ll somehow manage. Somehow. You still have to figure it out.

When you catch your breath, you walk to your door, your hand going into your pocket to find the key. As you get it out, someone who you can only assume is your new neighbor, walks to the door that’s next to yours. Apartment 381.

He’s tall and seemingly strong, or at least the shirt that hugs him tightly gives that impression. He has black hair that reaches around his ears, certainly in need of a haircut. He doesn’t look like the friendliest to approach, but you wouldn’t feel too comfortable knocking on your other neighbors’ doors asking for help. You’re too focused on the stern look on his face that you nearly miss the little boy that holds the white plastic bag.

“Uhm… Excuse me?” You cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak up, but regardless, you continue walking up to your neighbor. He turns to look at you, and while usually men’s eyes light up at the sight of you, he holds the same expression throughout. You tell him your first name before asking, “I need help carrying some stuff up, and I was wondering…”

He looks you up and down, taking in every detail before he nods in response. “I need you to watch the kid for me.”

“Oh– Okay. But I’m not sure you can carry it alone.” You tell him, and he chuckles. You’re not sure why he laughs, but you know it makes you nervous. You begin to question your words before he speaks again,

“Oh, trust me, I can.” He answers. “Just open the place, take the kid in, and make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

You aren’t too sure if it’s the wisest thing for him to leave his son with you, but you aren’t going to argue with it. You know you’re not a murderer or a bad person in general– But your neighbor doesn’t know that. Regardless, he’s accepted to help you and you won’t argue about it.

“Okay, Megumi, will you go with the nice lady for a moment?” The man asks his son, who tries to hide from you behind his father’s leg. It doesn’t work too well, while his father is big he isn’t quite big enough to completely hide him. You lean down a bit, putting on a smile for the kid.

“Hi, Megumi.” You wave at the little boy, and you see him peek. He pulls on his father’s jeans a bit, making the man sigh. When Megumi senses he’s made himself too visible, he goes back. You can’t help but chuckle. “Seems like Megumi is shy.”

“C’mon, Megumi. She’s nice.” The man says, and you can’t help but chuckle again as you decide to open your apartment. Megumi doesn’t let go of his father’s pants, and the man ends up sighing. “I’ll get you some ice cream afterwards.”

It takes you by surprise when the boy comes to your side, but at the same time you really aren’t. It’s a hot summer day and kids love ice cream. You open the door and peek at the place. Nothing too luxurious, that’s for sure.

“Here.” The man gives you the plastic bag, which you take. He looks to find the truck where your stuff is, and he quickly spots it. He points at it just to make sure, “That’s it, right?”

“It is.” You respond, and he nods in response. You watch as he begins to walk away and you decide to walk inside with Megumi. The place is rather small. You’ll say that. The living room, dining room, and bedroom are all in one place, and there’s a small door that leads to the bathroom. To the left of the entrance is some counter space, a small stove and a small fridge. The apartment isn’t something big, but you weren’t expecting much because you’re not paying too much for rent.

“Alright, Megumi, you can sit wherever you want… Sorry I don’t have anything to entertain you.” You tell him, and he walks to a corner of the place and takes a seat on the floor. You look at the contents of the bag that you hold, and you see some convenience store snacks. Which you can only assume is their breakfast.

“Is this your breakfast?” You ask, walking over to the young boy. He hums in response and you grab the sandwich from the bag and give it to him. He takes it from you and struggles to open the food so you end up opening it for him. You give him the food and he begins to eat quietly, and you’re unsure of what to say or do. Which leads you to ask the question, “What’s your daddy’s name?”

“Daddy.” Megumi responds with a mouthful of food and you can’t help but chuckle. You aren’t surprised by his response, although he should be old enough to know his father’s name, but you won’t pay much attention to that detail. It’s none of your business. You look at him for a moment, trying to figure out what else to say.

“How old are you, sweetie?” You continue asking, and the young boy holds three fingers up when he manages to hold the sandwich with one hand. He’s not much of a talker, at least not with you. You’re a mere stranger. At least you’re glad that you know the kid won’t run off with a stranger. The front door opens and you see the man carrying the mattress in. It was faster than you expected, and he doesn’t struggle all that much. At least he doesn’t seem to be struggling.

“Isn’t this a little too big for the place?” The man’s voice sounds normal, not showing any sign of strain. He puts it right in the middle of the free space of the apartment, and you’re shocked that he was able to carry the mattress up with no problem. “Not judging… It’s your place.”

“No, you’re right. I just didn’t know how small this place was.” You share. He slowly nods before he looks at the watch that’s on his left wrist. He realizes how late it is, but he sees from the corner of his eye that his son is eating what they bought. You two awkwardly stand in silence for a second before you speak up, “What’s your name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier. It slipped my mind.”

“I’m Toji Fushiguro.” He answers. You smile at him, putting your hands in your pocket awkwardly. You aren’t sure what to say until you remember you have to at least thank him for his help.

“Well, Toji, thank you. I really appreciate it.” You tell him.

“How about I help you with the rest of your stuff? I don’t have anything else to do today other than to watch the kid.” He offers which catches you off guard, but you aren’t going to refuse the help. “I’ll just get some toys from my place to keep him entertained while he’s here.”

“Alright, sounds amazing. Thank you, Toji.”

A few hours after Toji gets everything in your apartment, you find yourself attempting to organize everything. There’s no place to put everything. You don’t have a closet to put everything in so you try to put all your clothes in drawers. But obviously there isn’t enough space for everything so you’re putting old clothes in a pile to donate.

That’s what you spend all afternoon doing, and by eight at night you’re left with two boxes. Two boxes that are filled with his clothes, ones that you’ll leave alone. Leave them in a corner to collect dust, taking up very valuable and limited space.

You don’t notice how late it is until you open the door to your apartment and see how dark the sky is. You had plans of making something special for the neighbors in apartment 381, but clearly it’s too late for that. You really have nothing in your apartment to make food, and by the time you’re done grocery shopping, it’ll be way too late for cooking and showing up at their door with food.

However, you get an amazing idea. You go to the neighbor’s door and knock. You patiently wait for Toji to open the door, and you feel slightly nervous. Toji is an intimidating man. Although you can say he’s nice– sort of. But you still feel extremely nervous as you wait for him to open the door. You don’t want to interrupt anything.

“Oh, hey.” Toji opens the door and he doesn’t look too pleased. You’re overthinking because that’s definitely the same look that he had on his face. He crosses his arms and waits for you to say something, but you’re taking a bit too long. When he opens his mouth to speak is when you remember that you have to say something. This isn’t your usual behavior.

“I’m going to get some food and I was wondering if you guys wanted anything… To show my appreciation after your help.” You stumble over words and you notice every mistake which makes you internally curse yourself. Toji looks at the time on his watch and spends a moment thinking about your offer.

“Kid is in bed. But I’ll take up your offer.” He answers, and you slowly nod in response, a weak smile coming to your lips. You feel bad about the kid missing out on this opportunity. Although his father did all the work, you know that he was uncomfortable with you. Poor kid barely said a word, although he was entertained with his toy.

“Were you also going to bed?” You ask and he looks in his mind for what to say. He ends up shaking his head, although he was actually going to bed because he doesn’t have anything else better to do. “Did you take him out for ice cream already? I’m thinking of buying him some tomorrow because I just feel bad.”

Toji steps out of the apartment, not wanting to wake up his sleeping son by conversing. Toji shakes his head again, he had completely forgotten about what he told his son. He ends up saying, “It’s fine. He won’t remember.”

“Well maybe a pack of popsicles or something. It’s hot out and it’ll certainly help you two.” This time Toji doesn’t say anything. Popsicles do sound nice, especially since the AC system in his apartment needs some fixing. He does wonder if that’s affecting you too since you just moved in and your unit doesn’t have AC, but he notices you wear some shorts and a tank top so it can’t be affecting you too bad. “Do you want anything specific from any place?”

“I just want a beer. Get whatever you want.” He answers as you two begin to walk to your place. Toji isn’t all that worried about leaving a sleeping Megumi in the apartment alone. It’s like leaving him in another room of a house, especially since your place is right next door. If the kid was awake it’d be a whole different problem.

Toji notices immediately how organized everything is, and he’s fairly shocked because he completely left it a mess earlier. Boxes everywhere, the little furniture you had in the middle of the place. Majority of the boxes are now empty and piled up elsewhere. He does notice a pile of clothes on the floor, but he assumes those are some clothes you’ll either donate or sell. There’s not that many.

“Sorry for the mess.” You comment and he can’t believe his ears. This place is way more organized than he expected. He doesn’t say anything though, he just looks around the small area and takes in every detail. His place is just like this– Well his is a bit bigger and he obviously knows how to make space for him and the kid. “Do you know any good restaurants nearby that deliver?”

“Hmm… There’s this good place down the street. You can look up the menu.” He informs you which you do. He tells you the name of the place and you look it up. Meanwhile, he awkwardly stands around, hands in his back pockets. You realize this and are quick to say,

“Please, take a seat… Wherever you like.” You can’t help but feel bad at the fact that you have no place for him to sit on, other than your bed or the floor. He’s awkward too, and if it weren’t for the fact that his brat isn’t with him, he’d suggest going to the actual place to eat. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, and stares at you while you look at the menu, “I know I have to make a few changes around here.”

“It’s fine. It’s your place after all. Not here to judge.” He responds. He shifts around in the bed for a moment before saying, “At least it feels comfortable.”

“Oh it is. But it’s definitely taking up too much space. I might get a futon or something.” You tell him, sitting down beside him on the bed. You begin to order what you want on your phone, picking things that you think Toji might like.

“So why did you decide to move here?” He asks so the place isn’t filled with an awkward silence. He can only assume money troubles, because why else would you choose to live here? There might be some other reason though, and he might as well get to know you. He has to know that a criminal isn’t living right next door to his son.

“Just needed a change of scenery… and money troubles.” You mutter the last part, but he hears you. It’s nothing to be ashamed about because he knows. There’s no point in hiding it, why else why would you move here? Toji might not be the brightest guy but he certainly isn’t an idiot. “So what do you do, Fushiguro?”

“I’m a mechanic.” He answers. He looks around for a second, trying to figure out what you do. But he can’t figure it out through the indistinct room. He has no idea which ends up in him asking, “What do you do?”

“I used to work at a daycare.” You respond. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing here, though.”

“Hmm… There’s many places that are hiring around.” Toji tells you. You sigh in response, already dreading going back to work even though you don’t even have a job yet. You liked your old job, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with screaming children. To be honest, you weren’t in the mood for anything. But it also helps to distract you from everything. It keeps you busy. “I think there’s a daycare around here too.”

“Who takes care of Megumi while you work?” You question since he clearly doesn’t know if there’s a daycare around. Perhaps he hires a sitter, but you find that as a more expensive alternative.

“I keep him in the shop with me. They love him there. He’s in his corner playing with his toys while I work.” He informs you, which you’d generally be worried about if it weren’t for the fact that his son is clearly a calm kid.

“That’s a great way to save money. Kids are fucking expensive.” You chuckle before a yawn escapes your lips. You’re so incredibly tired, and it’s very clear. Toji can tell since you talk less energetically than you did earlier. “Your kid seems like a good one.”

“He’s definitely very calm. I don’t think I could’ve gotten luckier.” Toji looks at the corner with the two unpacked boxes and wonders what’s in them. Maybe it’s winter clothes that aren’t worth unpacking. He doesn’t question it, not that he cares about prying, but because he thinks he has it figured out, and the question doesn’t seem worthy enough to roll off his tongue.

You stand up and walk to the fridge, opening it to get a water bottle. You hold one up to show him, and he opens and closes his fist which leads you to throw a bottle at him. You open the bottle and bring it up to your lips, chugging the water until it’s nearly empty.

“Any special plans for tomorrow?” You ask, walking back to the bed, taking a seat beside him. He purses his lips together, thinking about what he’ll be doing tomorrow. Which makes you bring up, “If not, I can take you two out for ice cream. Then get some popsicles.”

“Hmmm… I feel like you’re being too nice.” Toji comments, which is something he has never done before. He appreciates gratitude and getting things, but he just feels something is up with you. There’s this sadness behind your eyes that makes him feel guilty. “Dinner is more than enough.”

“Dinner for you, ice cream and popsicles for the kid.” You say. He can’t argue about it. You look at him, taking in every detail of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’ll admit. But no one’s looks compete with him. Either way, Toji is handsome. Even with the stern look on his face, one that you doubt will change because it hasn’t changed all day.

You have a couple questions, but unlike Toji, you don’t mean to pry. There’s a knock on the door, which means that the food is finally here. Definitely faster than either of you expected. You stand up and walk to the door, opening it and taking the bag of food.

“Food’s here.” You announce, although you don’t have to.

You two end up eating on the ground, and not much happens after you begin to eat. When there’s no more food left, he goes back to his apartment.

A week after you move in is when you come to realize how rare it is to bump into your neighbor. The man in 381, of course, because you have yet to meet the neighbor in 383. You have yet to meet any of your other neighbors. You don’t really care about getting to know them or having any sort of friendship with them either way. The only reason you care a bit about seeing Toji is because you owe him and his son ice cream.

You remembered the next day, but when you knocked on his door, he wasn’t there. And every single other day of the week you were busy job hunting. As Toji told you, there is a daycare, and luckily enough for you, they needed some extra help around. Your first day is on Monday, and you feel ready. Maybe all you needed was some time off because you’re excited to start again. Maybe it’s because none of the parents know you or what you’ve recently gone through. Going back to work not even a week after your husband’s death was truly one of the hardest things you’ve had to do, mainly because everyone knew him, and everyone felt so pitiful whenever they looked at you.

It’s near four in the afternoon, and you’re carrying some groceries upstairs. Your hands are full, and you’re scared of dropping something. When you finally reach the third floor is when you get offered some help. Toji spots you and he’s quick to walk to your side and take some bags from you.

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief when he takes majority of the bags from you. You get to your apartment and you open the door, allowing him to walk into the place and put the bags on the counter. You put the bags that you have on the floor, and while you’d usually begin to unload the groceries and put them in their designated spot, if you start doing that, Toji will walk out and you won’t see him again for God knows how long. “I still owe Megumi that ice cream.”

“Right… Sorry we’ve been busy. Poor guy got sick.” Toji informs you. You can’t help but pout, feeling bad for the kid. “If you’re not busy we can go now. He’s stuck at home watching TV.”

“Let’s do that.” You smile. You put your index finger up before saying, “Give me a minute to put these away. Groceries are too expensive to let some of them spoil.”

“You’re right. While you do that I’ll get the little guy ready.” He says before he walks out of the apartment, leaving you to put all your groceries away.

You walk alongside Toji and Megumi, who guide you to the ice cream parlor. The walk– Which isn’t so long, feels like an eternity because it’s so hot out. You’re sweating, and Toji notices the sleek sheet of sweat on your body. It makes him comment, “We’re almost there.”

“Okay.” You mutter, extremely hot. Thankfully, in less than two minutes you get to the place. Toji picks up his son from the ground to allow him to look at all the possible flavors that he can pick from, making the young boy lick his lips. There’s so many options to pick from.

“Alright, Megumi, what do you want?” Toji asks as the boy puts his hands on the cold glass that separates him and the delicacy. While the boy hums, trying to decide what he wants, you order some ice cream for yourself.

“I want…” Megumi begins, but he can’t seem to figure out what he wants. Chocolate seems amazing, but that pink strawberry-flavored ice cream really catches his eye. But vanilla is one of his all time favorites. It leads to nowhere. “I want…”

“He wants cookies and cream in a cup. One scoop.” Toji ends up deciding, getting too impatient with the indecisive child. You can’t help but chuckle as you hear this. Toji clearly isn’t the patient kind. Megumi gets his ice cream cup, and Toji puts him down on the floor. “Rocky road cone for me. Two scoops.”

“C’mon, Megumi.” You tilt your head and shake it towards the table. The boy is unsure whether to follow you or not, but then again, you’re the reason he has ice cream so maybe you’re not so bad. He does end up walking with you to sit down at the table. He slides into the booth, and you sit on the opposite side.

You both focus on eating the ice cream in front of you, which is nice. Generally kids you’ve worked with are very talkative and don’t enjoy their food because they’d rather converse. Although you don’t usually mind, it’s nice being able to sit in silence for a moment. Until Toji sits down next to his kid and begins to talk.

“The sweet neighbor lady is buying you the ice cream, what do you say?” Toji asks his son and Megumi is too focused on his ice cream to say anything. But Toji clears his throat, grabbing the cup from the kid and putting it on your side of the table, a place that Megumi’s short arms won’t be able to reach. You’re about to hand the child back his ice cream because you don’t really care for a thank you, after all this is all to show your appreciation to Toji and his son for helping you out next week.

“Thank you.” Megumi ends up saying, which gets his father to hand him back the cup of ice cream. He quickly indulges himself in his treat. You smile at the kid and respond,

“No problem.” You reply. You quietly lick the cone, before it comes to your mind, “Please don’t call me the sweet neighbor lady. It makes me feel like a grandma.”

“Right, sorry.” Toji ends up chuckling. Now that he hears it, it does make you sound old. You don’t look old. He’d guess you’re around five to ten years younger than him. “The sweet young neighbor girl.”

“That’s better.” You laugh. You have many questions you want to ask, and right now would be the perfect time to ask them, if it weren’t for the kid that’s sitting down next to Toji. If it also weren’t for the fact that this is practically the second time you talk to him and you don’t want to be too intrusive. You bite into the cone and chew, thinking of what question to ask because the silence with them both makes you feel uncomfortable. Until you finally swallow, grabbing a napkin and cleaning the corners of your mouth before asking, “Did you have a busy week at work?”

“Yes.” He answers, looking over at his son to see how far along he is with his ice cream. Not even halfway done. But then again, Megumi is a small kid. “How about you? Did you find a job?”

“I did. Thankfully.” You respond. You smile at him, “At the daycare you told me about. Luckily enough they needed someone else since someone recently quit.”

“Really? That’s nice.” Toji really isn’t all that interested in your job, but he won’t be his usual rude self. He likes you, somewhat. “Maybe you can get me a discount for Megumi or something. It’d be nice for him to spend time with kids his own age.”

“Hmm… I was told I can get a 75% discount for my own kid. Don’t know if they allow you to give discounts to acquaintances.” You inform him and he ends up nodding in response. Maybe he’d be a bit upset if he didn’t have a cone of ice cream in his hand. “But since I don’t have any kids, I could pass him off as my own. As long as he doesn’t snitch, I think we’ll be fine.”

“That sounds perfect.” Toji's eyes perk up, maybe it’s because he wants to get the kid off his back for a bit. Or maybe it’s because the price of child care is too expensive and the man is trying to save up money so that he and his son can move somewhere else soon enough. Either way, he does appreciate it.

“I would have to fill out some forms and whatnot, but I can take him with me on Monday.” You tell him. He’s about to thank you for it, but Megumi puts his cup down and taps his dad’s arm, causing Toji to look down at him.

“I’m full.”

Near midnight you toss and turn on your bed, too hot to fall asleep. You have yet to get an air conditioning unit, and it’s too hot for you to sleep. You’re lying naked on top of your bed, and you’re still covered in sweat. Your windows are open, but the breeze that enters the place is a hot one and it doesn’t help you at all. At this point, you aren’t sure what to do. At least tomorrow you have all day to sleep.

You sit up on the bed a sigh leaving your lips before you get up and walk to the fridge to get a bottle of water. You put it up to your forehead, relieved. You walk back to your bed and lay down once again, running the cold water bottle through your body. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

There’s a knock on your door, which makes you frown as you get up from your bed. You begin to walk to the door until you realize you’re completely naked. You walk back, grabbing the clothes that are on the corner of the bed and putting them on. They don’t cover much but it’s better than walking out naked. You go to the door and open it, a bit annoyed at whoever is knocking at this time. But you aren’t as annoyed when you see your neighbor, who holds some papers.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” Toji asks, looking over at you, and you shake your head. He has to tear his eyes away from your body, looking at the very short shorts and the white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, your hard nipples poking through– There’s some spots that are wet which he wonders what they are but eventually figures out it’s sweat because it’s extremely hot out, and he doesn’t feel any cold air coming out of your place. “I was going to give you these tomorrow but I’m busy all day.”

“Please, come in.” You tell him, moving to the side to allow him to step into the place. He puts the papers down on your kitchen counter before he says,

“Just some basic stuff for registration. Important stuff you should know too. He’s allergic to oranges and shellfish.” He begins to tell you and you slowly nod. “Sorry for coming so late, I just couldn’t find everything. Forgot where I put it all.”

“It’s fine. Not like I was doing anything.” You respond. You awkwardly stand around, and neither of you say anything until you ask, “Megumi is asleep. I assume.”

“Yeah… Little guy is knocked out by eight every night.” He shares. He doesn’t seem like he’ll walk out soon, so you close the door. The man looks around the place, seeing no changes to the place yet. “It’s hot in here, are you okay?”

“I can’t sleep.” You confess with a chuckle.

“Not to sound like a pervert but like this, it’s best to sleep naked.” He says making you laugh.

“I was doing that, but I obviously can’t answer the door completely naked.” You point out which he hadn’t really thought about, but it obviously makes perfect sense. He can’t blame himself though, he knows he isn’t the smartest of the bunch.

“I don’t think anyone would complain about that.” Toji comments and it makes the heat go straight to your face. And it isn’t due to the high temperature from outside. You bite your bottom lip as you begin to walk over to him.

You’re lonely, touch-deprived and feeling a bit too confident. Maybe it’s the heat that’s taken over your emotions, but Toji is very handsome and you haven’t been touched in over a year. Your body craves it. Maybe you should listen to your body for once.

“What are you trying to say, Fushiguro?” You ask when you’re right in front of him. He looks at your lust-filled eyes, much different than that look that you always have. A smirk comes onto his lips as he looks down at you. “Do you want to see me naked or…?”

“Who would complain? Certainly not me.” He answers as you grab his hands and put them on your hips. How horrible would it be to have sex with your neighbor? It certainly isn’t the smartest idea, but you aren’t thinking of future consequences. You feel his hand go under your shirt and his touch feels as if it burns your skin. His lips go down to meet yours while his hands go up to feel your breasts. He begins to play with your nipples as his tongue enters your mouth.

He’s touch deprived as well, the last time he’s been with someone was around three years ago. And like you, he knows it’s not the best decision to fuck his neighbor, especially since you’ll be taking his son to daycare and getting him a discount, but he isn’t thinking of the consequences. Although he should, because he knows how women are, and he certainly doesn’t want an actual relationship from this. Yet he doesn’t stop his tongue from pressing against yours, and he doesn’t stop one hand from going to your ass while the other continues pinching your nipple.

You pull away from the kiss, grabbing the hand that squeezes your ass and telling him, “Follow me.”

He does so, and you guide him to your bed. You sit down on the bed, and you give him the sweetest look as you look up at him. Toji smirks before he pushes the rest of your body down on the bed, “The first thing I thought about you was how hot you were.”

“Hmm… Really?” You bat your eyelashes. He hums in response as he begins to pull down your shorts, and he’s very surprised to find that you’re wearing no panties. His lips go back to yours while two fingers run through your folds. He feels how wet you are, and he’s surprised because he hasn’t done anything yet. His lips go down, kissing your neck and down to your covered breasts. He pulls down your tank top and latches around your nipple, gently sucking. Soft moans begin to leave your lips as he does so.

He unlatches and kisses the valley of your breasts before he latches on your other nipple. His fingers continue to run through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You’re so touch deprived that every subtle touch is enough to drive you wild. So much so that you’re way too loud, causing him to detach himself from your nipple and he says, “The walls are very thin. Don’t want you to wake anyone up.”

“Sorry.” You mutter as he stands up straight, pulling down his sweatpants. He takes his cock into his hand, his thumb spreading the pre cum that’s on the tip before he slowly pumps it. He looks down at you, watching as you bite down on your bottom lip.

“Don’t think this is something more. This is just sex.” He tells you, causing you to laugh.

“I should be the one telling you that.” You reply. Once he knows he’s gotten the message across, he runs the tip through your folds. He slowly pushes his dick inside of you, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. Toji’s dick is long and thick. You weren’t expecting anything else, but it’s definitely much more to take in once he’s actually inside of you.

He gives you a moment to adjust, while also giving himself a moment to adjust. He shuts his eyes, barely being able to handle it. He just forgot how good this was. So incredibly good. You’re biting down your lip as he slowly begins to move, remembering his comment about the walls. You didn’t think this would be so hard.

“S’ fucking good.” Toji groans, feeling as you squeeze around him. He can’t take so much but God, is it good. His hands grip to your hips so hard that you’re sure there’ll be some bruising. But you really aren’t focused on that. “Your pussy is so good.”

“Fuck…” You mutter as his thrusts pick up speed. Your back arches, pleasure overtaking your body with each of his movements. And you’re so focused on yourself that you don’t notice how his thrusts become unregulated, until you feel that warmth fill you up, causing your eyes to go wide.

Toji’s eyes also go wide, realizing that he finished so quickly. It leaves him embarrassed. It causes his cheeks to go pink, which is thankfully not noticeable. This has never happened to him before. And you definitely know it’ll strike his ego if you tell him that you were planning on telling him to pull out, something you should’ve done before you started. He’s about to apologize but decides otherwise, getting on his knees and his tongue running through your folds.

Your mind goes blank again, all other thoughts leaving your brain as he begins to lick your cunt. He tastes himself on you as his cum oozes out of your cunt. His tongue goes to your clit and he slowly flicks it while your hand goes to his hair.

He has the purpose of making you come on his tongue, and you feel it as he’s so eager. You lick your lips before you bite down on your bottom lip. His tongue goes to your entrance, getting some more of his cum on his tongue before he pushes his tongue inside of you. It’s so good. Too good.

“That’s really good.” You say, trying your best to control yourself as his tongue wanders inside of you. When he takes it out, his tongue licks up and down your cunt before once again focusing on your clit.

You feel your orgasm quickly build up, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it slowly overtakes you. Him finishing so fast was worth it because you doubt you would’ve felt like this before. Your thighs begin to squeeze his head while he works so diligently.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan as you finally reach your peak. He detaches himself from your pussy, first leaving a kiss on your clit. He stands up and starts getting himself ready.

“This never happened.” He tells you, not even a minute after. But you have no problem agreeing with him.

After all, the last thing you want is a relationship.

🏷️ @Instantgalaxysheep @happidiluc @Konekobby @bbqyuyuworld @slut4madara @keithslonelyreadingcorner @Tarajaxx @galactict3a @cloudsinthecosmos @uhremmi @sillyalo @klonisx @sakurasimppp @sunflwrsugar @tojianddabisslut @hiraeth117 @charismaya @megumuro @lilith412426 @violet-19999 @otakusan90s @jumpinjaxx @whatdudtheysay @jjmsg

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #daddy toji #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fic

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shinelikethunder · 2 months

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landlord gave me notice at 3pm thursday and by 9am tomorrow, sunday march 10th 2024, propelled by equal parts terror and incandescent fury, i will be putting in an offer to buy An Entire House.

i mean, it's a nice and low-risk little house, at a price that makes it a no-brainer to jump on it before it goes - but still, this is fucking surreal. i could technically have had the offer in by 3pm today; this is me taking the time to think it over. except there's not much to think over: i need a place and this one's solid, and the monthly payment is the exact same as what i was just offered in order to rent half as much duplex by the landlord who's kicking me out to renovate and price-gouge.

and i'm not gonna pretend one of the emotions driving my haste here isn't the vicious satisfaction of having just enough fuck-you money to pull this off. in all likelihood i'll be filling out mortgage paperwork by the time his ass even gets around to fitting a walkthrough of the half-duplex into his busy house-flipping schedule, and if he wanted his model tenant placidly paying the extortion rent on that place - two days before the first of every month like i've been doing for the five years i've lived here - then maybe he shouldn't have fucking dicked me around.

#i'm trying not to think too hard about the cat because whatever's going to happen with him will happen no matter where i move to :/#but also because if i think about that too hard i will make some choices that guarantee i'll never see a cent of my security deposit back #and i am about to need all the fucking cashflow i can get

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Hangover 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: can't stop, won't stop. Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

“Boris, I need that big breakfast,” you call through the window.

“Yeah, yeah,” the cook gristles back as he clinks a plate onto the metal, “you don't wait.”

“It's been twenty minutes,” you rebuff as you take the hot dish and veer around Monica at the counter.

You come around and carry it over to the only customer at a table. The officer came in looking underslept and worse for wear. A bruise is faded to yellow under his eyes and his stubble is just shorter than an actual beard.

“Here you are, honey,” you put on your customer service voice, “more coffee?”

“Yeah,” he puts his phone face down and unwraps the cutlery.

You go to the machine and grab a pot. You return and fill his cup as he jabs at the scrambled eggs.

“There ya go, honey, anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, stop calling me honey,” he snarls.

“Oh, sorry… sir.”

You back away and retreat back to the counter, offering more top ups as you burn with embarrassment. You suppose you can come on strong when you're looking for tips. Besides, you can't blame him for being grumpy. He seems to have a good reason for it.

You put on a fresh pot as you replace the urn on the burner. You dip behind the counter as Monica brings Vi her tea and egg whites. The old lady is one of the mainstays of the place.

“So,” Monica turns her back to the customers and lowers her voice, “how's Will?”

“I think he's liking college… must be having fun since I never hear from him,” you shrug, “only asks when he can come get his laundry done.”

“Typical, I'm not looking forward to Brandon being that age.”

“Yes, enjoy them while they're young and sweet,” you cluck.

“Waitress!” The cop booms from his table.

“Chipper guy,” Monica mutters under her breath as you turn on your heel.

You go back to the table. You notice the wrinkles in his uniform, the buttons aren't lined up properly either. He has his hand on his forehead. He leans over his plate as his shoulders tense and you see his boy racking.

Oh god, no! You've seen this before. Will would get like this when he brought home the flu.

“Oh no, just…”

You put your hand on his back and urge him over the plate as he pukes. You smell the alcohol then. You rub between his shoulder blades as he retches, not bringing up much more than the few bites he took.

“I'll get ya something,” you pull the towel from your apron and offer him that.

You try not to wrinkle your nose as you pick up his plate and carry it behind the counter. You dump it in the bin as Monica lets out a blech. You agree but you don't want to bring too much attention to the situation.

You go into the kitchen and wash your hands. You find a bucket and bring it out to the cop. He's bent over the table, head on his arms.

“Hon– sir,” you put the bucket on the table, “you want some water?”

He doesn't react. You go and get water for him, setting it by his elbow. He breathes heavily but doesn't move.

“You gonna be sick again?”

“No,” he grumbles, “I'm fine.”

You open your mouth but think better of it. You almost wonder if he's actually a cop. Maybe you should call the real ones.

You leave him and go to hide behind the counter. You have enough to worry about between tuition and your mortgage.

“Guy's a mess,” Monica whispers.

“Just a bit,” you agree.

“It's not even noon…”

“Shhhh, he's having a rough one,” you say, “he'll go eventually.”

“As long as he pays his bill,” she tuts.

“Yeah, let's hope,” you frown and peek over your shoulder. So much for a decent tip.

🍽

The cop leaves about an hour after he got there. You forget quickly with the lunch rush. You spend your last few hours running yourself ragged.

You exchange your apron for your coat and leave through the side door. As you come into the alley, you notice the cruiser parked beside the dumpsters. You sidle by, stopping as you see the figure strewn over the back seat.

It's the same cop that was in the diner. You're content to keep going but your shoe hits a shape that jingles. You look down, a set of keys that can be for nothing other than the car in front of you. Those doors only open from the outside… wow. You won't call the guy a disaster, you can't exactly say you're any better.

You bend and pick up the keys. You unlock the door and open it, the edge hitting the dumpster. You don't know what to do so you just grab the cops ankle and shake his leg.

“Sir,” you raise your voice.

He throws his arm off his head and props himself up on his elbow, “what?”

“Um, you dropped these,” you place the keys by his shoe. “Sorry.”

He grunts but doesn't respond. You back up, leaving the door open. He slowly slides to the edge of the seat and hands his legs out of the car, bracing the door as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Was sleepin’ good,” he growls.

“I… I was just checking on you… are you okay?”

“Does it matter?” He pulls himself up, snatching up the keys and slamming the back door. “Doing just fucking fine.”

“Alright, I wasn't…” you show your palms defensively, “have a good day officer.”

“Thanks, waitress,” he scoffs.

You bite down on his tone. It's not the first time you've been spoken to like that. In your line of work, it's all too common, and as you get more years under you, it's just how it is.

You turn and head towards the street. The engine rolls over behind you and as you near the end, you hear the tires crunching on pebbles. You barely manage to move out of the way as the officer steers into the street. You just stand back and watch him veer off. As bad as your day might be, his seems worse.

#johnny storm #dark johnny storm #dark!johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #drabble #au #series #the club #fantastic four #hangover

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bitchesgetriches · 29 days

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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Retirement and How to Retire

How to start saving for retirement

Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One?

Procrastinating on Opening a Retirement Account? Here’s 3 Ways That’ll Fuck You Over.

Season 4, Episode 5: “401(k)s Aren’t Offered in My Industry. How Do I Save for Retirement if My Employer Won’t Help?”

How To Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment

Your School or Workplace Benefits Might Include Cool Free Stuff

Do NOT Make This Disastrous Beginner Mistake With Your Retirement Funds

The Financial Order of Operations: 10 Great Money Choices for Every Stage of Life

Advanced retirement moves

How to Painlessly Run the Gauntlet of a 401k Rollover

The Resignation Checklist: 25 Sneaky Ways To Bleed Your Employer Dry Before Quitting

Ask the Bitches: “Can I Quit With Unvested Funds? Or Am I Walking Away From Too Much Money?”

You Need to Talk to Your Parents About Their Retirement Plan

Season 4, Episode 8: “I’m Queer, and Want To Find an Affordable Place To Retire. How Do I Balance Safety With Cost of Living?”

How Dafuq Do Couples Share Their Money?

Ask the Bitches: “Do Women Need Different Financial Advice Than Men?”

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 3, Episode 7: “I’m Finished With the Basic Shit. What Are the Advanced Financial Steps That Only Rich People Know?”

Speaking of advanced money moves, make sure you’re not funneling money to The Man through unnecessary account fees. Roll over your old retirement accounts FO’ FREE with our partner Capitalize:

Roll over your retirement fund with Capitalize

Investing for the long term

When Money in the Bank Is a Bad Thing: Understanding Inflation and Depreciation

Investing Deathmatch: Investing in the Stock Market vs. Just… Not

Investing Deathmatch: Traditional IRA vs. Roth IRA

Investing Deathmatch: Stocks vs. Bonds

Wait… Did I Just Lose All My Money Investing in the Stock Market?

Financial Independence, Retire Early (FIRE)

The FIRE Movement, Explained

Your Girl Is Officially Retiring at 35 Years Old

The Real Story of How I Paid off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

My First 6 Months of Early Retirement Sucked Shit: What They Don’t Tell You about FIRE

Bitchtastic Book Review: Tanja Hester on Early Retirement, Privilege, and Her Book, Work Optional

Earning Her First $100K: An Interview with Tori Dunlap

We’ll periodically update this list with new links as we continue writing about retirement. And by “periodically,” we mean “when we remember to do it.” Maybe remind us, ok? It takes a village.

Contribute to our staff’s retirement!

Holy Justin Baldoni that’s a lot of lengthy, well-researched, thoughtful articles on the subject of retirement. It sure took a lot of time and effort to finely craft all them words over the last five years!

In case I’m not laying it on thick enough: running Bitches Get Riches is a labor of love, but it’s still labor. If our work helped you with your retirement goals, consider contributing to our Patreon to say thanks! You’ll get access to Patreon exclusives, giveaways, and monthly content polls! Join our Patreon or comment below to let us know if you would be interested in a BGR Discord server where you can chat with other Patrons and perhaps even the Bitches themselves! Our other Patrons are neat and we think you should hang out together.

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#retirement #retire #how to retire #retirement account #retirement fund #retirement funds #401k #403b #Roth IRA #Traditional IRA #investing #investors #investing in stocks #Capitalize #401k rollover #personal finance #money tips

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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WIBTA for asking my spouse to open up our relationship?

Tl;dr: He said no years ago but our sex life is non-existent and I'm climbing the walls.

Full story:

Me (early 30s, NB) and my partner (late 30s, M) have been together for over a decade. We have a kid, a mortgage and enough interests in common to keep each other entertained. He's a genuinely good person and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. BUT.

We met before I hit 20, and he was my first ever serious relationship. Our sex life tanked about two years in, but we both had other things going on, and over time I blamed many different factors: living conditions, shift work, my weight gain, health issues, differences in upbringing, levels of queerness - you name it. In the last few years I helped him through a serious medical condition (think two surgeries and a long recovery), but once he was nominally in the clear my mental health went down the drain and I haven't really been back to normal since.

For a while, I had a really good counsellor and for once got to talk about some of the less savoury shit going on in my noggin. It all ended up on a Realisation that we only had sex while sober on a laughably small number of occasions, and any and all attempts on my part to spice things up ended at best with affectionately confounded denial or just a straight up brick wall. I got sober a few years before he did (I'm talking 'uh oh maybe we're having too many too often' rather than 'out of control alcoholism'), which effectively ended our sex life altogether. At this point I'm looking at a solid year since my husband last touched me, and even then it was after he came home from a pub in a silly mood so neither of us ended up getting much out of it. And it's not even the longest stretch.

I floated this as an issue a number of times, and every time he agreed it's something to work on then did precisely zilch. I told him point blank once that I wouldn't be opposed to an open relationship, but he was vehemently against, because that's the first step to a break up in his mind. I suggested he might be ace (there are several clues to that, not just my increasingly unhinged internet history), bought the book as a way to start a discussion - he put it on a shelf and never looked at it again.

After my Big Bad Breakdown earlier this year we ended up in family counselling. It quickly became clear that there are so many things he just Didn't Consider that the sex thing didn't even get mentioned, then we ran out of slots and he hasn't followed up on any of his revelations from the sessions, so I feel like digging in is a lost cause.

I love him, don't want to leave him and quite frankly couldn't even if I did because the UK is a financial ruin. I also have some extremely unfulfilled needs, and can't even rub one out in peace because he finds it weird (???). Even if I didn't find cheating morally Too Far it sounds exhausting and I already have too much going on. I haven't been the easiest person to be around for the last few months, but this has been a years-long issue. So, WBITA to start the conversation on the open relationship again, despite the negative feedback I had previously?

(If it helps, we both have different flavours of neurodivergence, although mine is under treatment and his largely ignored.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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devondespresso · 3 months

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I Can Only Hope Now (STWG Daily Prompt: Claudia)

G | 1269 words | ao3 link | cw: absent father, brief references to Steve’s absent parents

Thank you @saradika-graphics for the dividers! 💛

Claudia Edine Henderson never wanted to get married. Not really.

But she wanted kids, so that meant either getting married or seeing if the daycare was hiring.

Anthony Laurence Goldman wanted a family. She thought that meant the same thing, so they married.

And it was good. They had a beautiful baby boy, Dustin Clarence Goldman, healthy save for a defect with his bones. No collarbones, and the high chance he’d need a little extra medical attention down the line, but he’d still be living long and happy, and she couldn’t ask for more.

Eventually, their baby's cries stopped waking both of them up in the middle of the night. It was just her, because mothers had a sixth sense for it.

No sleep, no time, no awareness of what she let it do to her until her mother called, apologizing for the odd hour, and she realized she couldn’t tell the difference between four in the morning or six at night. After that, her mother stayed a while, helped with the baby when Anthony was at work.

Anthony helped when he could, but his real specialty was money. He knew how mortgages and insurance worked, knew how banks and credit card companies stayed in business, knew how to get the lowest bill from the hospital, so having to pay out of pocket for Dusty's somehow only ‘cosmetic surgeries’ wouldn't leave their wallets dry.

He knew how to juggle all that convoluted adult shit that scared the living daylights out of her. It was like it came so easy to him.

Maybe it didn't. She'd never really know.

It was his domain, and he preferred it that way, for years and years until it started looking like family was more like the backdrop for his dreams, instead of the subject of them.

She talked to him, lord knows she talked to him about it, but each new month of trying faded back into three of forgetting.

Dustin grew old enough to ask. Just enough words to get the question across. Where did Daddy go?

They separated a few months, hoping he’d miss his son enough to work with her on this.

She gave him the ultimatum that turned into a divorce.

He agreed happily, saying that it would prove how much weight he was really pulling. That he didn’t need custody.

Claudia Edine Henderson and Dustin Clarence Henderson moved back in with her mother, and for three more years she figured the rest of it out. She found a job at a bank, learned the ins and outs of the business while balancing her own funds separate from both her ex-husband and her mother.

When Dusty was old enough to bike to and from school on his own, they finally moved out to a quiet small town, far away from Anthony. Dustin found friends so fast, faster than she ever could have hoped, and she was able to tell him everything.

She had no idea if she made the right choice for him. It was the right choice for her, and in a way that probably made her a better mother for him, but she could never be sure if that distance made any of it easier on him. Sometimes she wishes she did more to bring him into their family, offered to help with any of those things that scared her too much to do herself.

Sometimes she wondered if Dustin would ever resent her for it. If he didn’t already.

But then one night, Dustin was out way past curfew, without calling. Karen and Sue couldn’t find their boys either, so the three of them ran up to the station. Ms. Flo, the angel, called the chief himself immediately and gave them a spot in the waiting room.

An hour or so later, the chief showed up with all three boys in tow.

They were all grounded, no question, but before she and Dusty started heading home, he begged her for five minutes to talk with his friend in the chief's car. She relented, and Dustin ran to the passenger seat of the car, where a teen boy was leaning on the door and resting his eyes.

Dusty opened the door and the boy nearly fell out of the car, followed by a very loud “Henderson!” that made her chuckle.

Hopper said it was the Harrington’s son, and his next stop would be taking the kid to Hawkins General Hospital for ‘a concussion and a half’.

They both had to get going, and despite his anger earlier, Harrington Jr. said goodbye with a smile and a ruffle of Dustin’s cap. And when Dusty hopped into the front seat with stars in his eyes and the energy of a successful campaign, he talked about Steve Harrington.

Steve was awesome. Steve was like the tank their party needed. Steve was a badass until he got his ass kicked, which apparently wasn’t even fair anyway, because Steve would have totally won if Bobby? Billy? Was playing fair. Steve was strong, Steve was cool, Steve told him how to do his hair, of all things, which was also apparently a secret. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve.

She had to be wary, just a little, because that was her job. But even more than that, she wanted to be hopeful.

So the next day, when Dustin asked if he could bike to the hospital to check on Steve, even though he was grounded, she decided to make an exception, and they both took the car.

Hopper’s car was still camped out in the parking lot, but before she could look for the right cars around, Dustin dashed again to Steve’s room, almost slamming the door open.

Dustin jumped on the bed before Steve could get a word in, let alone sit up to greet them, but the wide, if a bit confused, smile said it all.

Hopper offered the chair next to him for her to take a seat, and he filled her in properly on everything that happened. Most of the story was a better rehash of Dustin’s accounts with those in-betweens better filled, but the one thing that stayed perfectly consistent was Steve.

A new girl’s step brother got too rough with Sue's boy, Steve stepped in and started a regular fight, then step-brother grabbed a dinner plate and ended it. Step brother apparently fled after Steve wouldn’t get up, and the kids looked after him until Hop could get there. All four of them were worried, but Dustin by far the most.

She looked back to her boy, trying to get his hat back from Steve who held it high above their heads. Dustin stood to grab it, and Steve clearly planned on throwing it before Dustin managed to snatch it and punch him in the arm with a victorious yell.

She couldn’t help but smile. Couldn’t help but let them stay until Steve was discharged with a stack of paper and a call home to make sure he wouldn’t be alone. Couldn’t help but leave an open invite to their home, though ideally after Dustin’s grounding was over.

After a few weeks, he joined them for dinner, and never asked why they had to hunt for a third chair to the table.

And another few weeks after that, Steve stopped by to drive Dusty to the Snowball, coming inside because Dustin can’t get his hair just right.

And a month later, when he joined them for Christmas, Claudia could be comfortable in her hope. She could think that, at least going forward, Dusty would have everything he needed.

#stranger things #claudia henderson #dustin and his mom #dustin and steve #drabble #dustin henderson #steve harrington #claudia henderson pov #claudia henderson centric #stwgdailyprompt #devon's writings

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phoenixyfriend · 1 month

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Ko-Fi prompt from Isabelo:

Hi! I'm new to the workforce and now that I have some money I'm worried it's losing its value to inflation just sitting in my bank. I wanted to ask if you have ideas on how to counteract inflation, maybe through investing?

I've been putting this off for a long time because...

I am not a finance person. I am not an investments person. I actually kinda turned and ran from that whole sector of the business world, at first because I didn't understand it, and then once I did understand it, because I disagreed with much of it on a fundamental level.

But... I can describe some factors and options, and hope to get you started.

I AM NOT LEGALLY QUALIFIED TO GIVE FINANCIAL ADVICE. THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVICE.

What is inflation, and what impacts it?

Inflation is the rate at which money loses value over time. It's the reason something that cost 50 cents in the 1840s costs $50 now.

A lot of things do impact inflation, like housing costs and wage increases and supply chains, but the big one that is relevant here is federal interest rates. The short version: if you borrow money from the government, you have to pay it back. The higher the interest rates on those loans, the lower inflation is. This is for... a lot of reasons that are complicated. The reason I bring it up is less so:

The government offers investments:

So yeah, the feds can impact inflation, but they also offer investment opportunities. There are three common types available to the average person: Bonds, Bills, and Notes. I'll link to an article on Investopedia again, but the summary is as follows: You buy a bill, bond, or note from the government. You have loaned them money, as if you are the bank. Then, they give it back, with interest.

Treasury Bills: shortest timeframe (four weeks to a year), and lowest return on investment. You buy it at a discount (let's say $475), and then the government returns the "full value" that the bond is, nominally (let's say $500). You don't earn twice-yearly interest, but you did earn $25 on the basis of Loaning The Government Some Cash.

Treasury Notes: 2-10 year timeframe. Very popular, very stable. Banks watch it to see how they should plan the interest rates for mortgages and other large loans. Also pretty high liquidity, which means you can sell it to someone else if you suddenly need the cash before your ten-year waiting period is up. You get interest payments twice a year.

Treasury Bonds: 20-30 years. This is like... the inverse of a house mortgage. It takes forever, but it does have the highest yield. You get interest payments twice a year.

Why invest money into the US Treasury department, whether through the above or a different government paper? (Savings bonds aren't on sold the set schedule that treasury bonds are, but they only come in 30-year terms.)

It is very, very low risk. It is pretty much the lowest risk investment a person can make, at least in the US. (I'm afraid I don't know if you're American, but if you're not, your country probably has something similar.)

Interest rates do change, often in reaction or in relation to inflation. If your primary concern is inflation, not getting a high return on investment, I would look into government papers as a way to ensure your money is not losing value on you.

This is the website that tells you the government's own data for current yield and sales, etc. You can find a schedule for upcoming auctions, as well.

High-yield bank accounts:

Savings accounts can come with a pretty unremarkable but steady return on investment; you just need to make sure you find one that suits you. Some of the higher-yield accounts require a minimum balance or a yearly fee... but if you've got a good enough chunk of cash to start with, that might be worth it for you.

They are almost as reliable as government bonds, and are insured by the government up to $250,000. Right now, they come with a lower ROI than most bonds/bills/notes (federal interest rates are pretty high at the moment, to combat inflation). Unlike government papers, though, you can deposit and withdraw money from a savings account pretty much any time.

Certificates of Deposit:

Okay, imagine you are loaning money to your bank, with the fixed term of "I will get this money back with interest, but only in ten years when the contract is up" like the Treasury Notes.

That's what this is.

Also, Investopedia updates near-daily with the highest rates of the moment, which is pretty cool.

Property:

Honestly, if you're coming to me for advice, you almost definitely cannot afford to treat real estate as an investment thing. You would be going to an actual financial professional. As such... IDK, people definitely do it, and it's a standby for a reason, but it's not... you don't want to be a victim of the housing bubble, you know? And me giving advice would probably make you one. So. Talk to a professional if this is the route you want to take.

Retirement accounts:

Pension accounts are a kind of savings account. You've heard of a 401(k)? It's that. Basically, you put your money in a savings account with a company that specializes in pensions, and they invest it in a variety of different fields and markets (you can generally choose some of this) in order to ensure that the money grows enough that you can hopefully retire on it in fifty years. The ROI is usually higher than inflation.

These kinds of accounts have a higher potential for returns than bonds or treasury notes, buuuuut they're less reliable and more sensitive to market fluctuations.

However, your employer may pay into it, matching your contribution. If they agree to match up to 4%, and you pay 4% of your paycheck into an pension fund, then they will pay that same amount and you are functionally getting 8% of your paycheck put into retirement while only paying for half of it yourself.

Mutual Funds:

I've definitely linked this article before, but the short version is:

An investment company buys 100 shares of stock: 10 shares each in 10 different "general" companies. You, who cannot afford a share of each of these companies, buy 1 singular share of that investment company. That share is then treated as one-tenth of a share of each of those 10 "general" companies. You are one of 100 people who has each bought "one stock" that is actually one tenth of ten different stocks.

Most retirement funds are actually a form of mutual fund that includes employer contributions.

Pros: It's more stable than investing directly in the stock market, because you can diversify without having to pay the full price of a share in each company you invest in.

Cons: The investment company does get a cut, and they are... often not great influences on the economy at large. Mutual funds are technically supposed to be more regulated than hedge funds (which are, you know, often venture capital/private equity), but a lot of mutual funds like insurance companies and pension funds will invest a portion of their own money into hedge funds, which is... technically their job. But, you know, capitalism.

Directly investing in the stock market:

Follow people who actually know what they're doing and are not Evil Finance Bros who only care about the bottom line. I haven't watched more than a few videos yet, but The Financial Diet has had good energy on this topic from what I've seen so far, and I enjoy the very general trends I hear about on Morning Brew.

That said, we are not talking about speculative capital gains. We are talking about making sure inflation doesn't screw with you.

DIVIDENDS are profit that the company shares to investors every quarter. Did the company make $2 billion after paying its mortgages, employees, energy bill, etc? Great, that $2 billion will be shared out among the hundreds of thousands of stocks. You'll probably only get a few cents back per stock (e.g. Walmart has been trading at $50-$60 for the past six months, and their dividends have been 57 cents and then 20.75 cents), but it adds up... sort of. The Walmart example is listed as having dividends that are lower than inflation, so you're actually losing money. It's part of why people rely on capital gains so much, rather than dividends, when it comes to building wealth.

Blue Chip Stocks: These are old, stable companies that you can expect to return on your investment at a steady rate. You probably aren't going to see your share jump from $5 to $50 in a year, but you also probably won't see it do the reverse. You will most likely get reliable, if not amazing, dividends.

Preferred Stocks: These are stock shares that have more reliable dividends, but no voting rights. Since you are, presumably, not a billionaire that can theoretically gain a controlling share, I can't imagine the voting rights in a given company are all that important anyway.

Anyway, hope this much-delayed Intro To Investing was, if not worth the wait, at least, a bit longer than you expected.

Hey! You got interest on the word count! It's topical! Ish.

#economics #capitalism #phoenix talks #ko fi #ko fi prompts #research #business #investment #finance #treasury bonds #savings bonds #certificate of deposit #united states treasury #stocks #stock market #mutual funds #pension funds

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sirfrogsworth · 3 months

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Tomorrow I have folks coming that are basically going to empty out the house of most of my parent's possessions. They are coming early in the morning and I should be sleeping right now and I can't seem to turn off my brain.

I've been spending the last week figuring out what I want to keep. What items have sentimental value. And I also have to do this horrible calculus for things that are sentimental, but also are valuable, and figure out if the money I could make would outweigh the sentiment.

Not to mention there are things that are cool as heck and I just think are neat, but I'm not really sure if they are valuable or not.

Like this cameo bracelet.

If it is fake and has no value, I'd like to keep it and maybe take some cool photos and display it somewhere.

But it isn't really sentimental and if it has value, that could help go toward a future mortgage payment or something.

It's probably fake. I think my mom would have mentioned having a real cameo.

And what if I sell something that I later decide had more sentimental value than I thought?

I need the house cleared out. I need to make this place my own. Right now I can't look down the hallway because it makes me too sad. But maybe if I make those rooms a photo studio and a guest bedroom, they would be different enough that I won't get sad anymore.

Hence, why I'm looking into therapy.

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toastedkiwi · 1 year

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Elevator Conversations

Summary: you and Chris ditch the New Years Eve party in favor of getting Philly cheesesteaks.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Model!Reader

You caught your husband’s gaze as he’s supposed to be listening to the guys talk. You pointed at yourself and then at him. You motioned your fingers walking towards the door and then pointed at the door. You made the motions again. Your husband gave a small nod.

You quickly yet quietly headed for the coat room. You went over and started digging for your jacket and Chris’s. It was easy as his way the only coat with another in it. You grabbed them and tucked them over your forearm. You headed to the front door. You opened it just enough to squeeze through. You closed the door and headed down the hallway to the elevator.

Chris finally managed to get free after saying he needed to use the bathroom which isn’t that close to the front door. He had your crystallized clutch with him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, that took forever,” Chris said as you pressed the button down.

“Yeah, ‘cause you suck at sneaking out,” you said turning to him.

“Well, everybody wants to know how Cap is doing,” he said trading the coats for your clutch.

“Aww, boohoo,” you teased. “You’re a famous actor that everyone loves.”

He mockingly laughed with you as he leaned in. He gently kissed your lips. He pulled away as the elevator doors opened. You both shuffled in.

“Where we headed baby?” Chris asked pulling your coat out of his.

“I’m thinking Philly,” you said pressing the button to the lobby.

“Why do I bother asking?” he asked putting his coat over his shoulder.

“It’s where we always go when we’re in New York,” you said.

The elevator doors closed and you both started descending down.

“Maybe we should get a place in Philly,” Chris said holding out your coat for you.

“But we’ve already got three places,” you said turning your back to him.

“Boston, Hidden Hills, and Manhattan. What’s one more in Philly?” your husband said helping you into your coat.

“Fucking taxes. Mortgages,” you said. “Upkeep.”

“Honey? Aren’t we pretty well off? You’re a high paid model and I’m high paid actor,” he said. “We’re rich.”

You spun around and asked, “what about kids? We want those right?”

“Yes, we do— you’re not pregnant, right?” he asked.

“I’m still on birth control,” you said grabbing his coat off of his shoulder.

“What if you got off of it?” he asked.

“Why?” you asked holding out his jacket for him to get into.

“What if we started trying?” he suggested.

“That’s fine with me but can we start trying in two months?” you asked as he put his right arm into the sleeve.

“Why two months? Why not now?” Chris asked.

“Cause I want a lil baby for Christmas. Fresh outta the womb,” you said.

Chris laughed getting his other arm into its designated sleeve. You pulled up the coat over his shoulders. He spun back around and you fixed the collar. His hands found your waist.

“You want a baby for Christmas?” he asked.

You nodded and said, “don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We wouldn’t have to go out to parties.”

“Yes! We can just head off to Philly,” you said. “Have the baby strapped to your chest while we eat fucking cheesesteaks.”

“That’s why we need a place in Philly!” Chris exclaimed.

You cupped his face and kissed his lips.

“We’ll think about it,” you said. “But—.”

“We should focus on the baby making and throw out your birth control,” he said.

“Excuse me? We at least have to wait two months so I— so we can have a fresh outta the womb baby in time for Christmas,” you said.

“You cannot have a baby on Christmas. It has to come at least a week before,” Chris said.

“Yes, our child will come a week before Christmas because they need their birthday to be special and their own day,” you said.

“I’m glad we have this understanding,” he said.

“Obviously. We have morals and common sense to plan this out,” you said.

“You know, you’d be stopping modeling. You’d miss the fashion weeks,” Chris said.

“But we would have a baby,” you said. “And it would be two at most. I’m also young so I should have a decent time bouncing back.”

“Was that a dig that I’m old and cannot bounce back?” he asked.

“Yes, it was,” you nodded.

“Wow,” he said.

#chris evans x model!reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans

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