#Appraisal Fees

[reitmonero]

Understanding the Costs Associated with Home Equity Loans

Introduction

Home equity loans can be a great way to access funds for major expenses, but it's important to understand the costs involved. This guide breaks down these costs to help you make an informed decision.

1. Interest Rates

The interest rate on a home equity loan is crucial because it determines how much you'll pay over the life of the loan. Rates can be fixed (stay the same throughout the loan) or variable (change based on market conditions). Fixed rates provide predictability, while variable rates might offer lower initial rates but can fluctuate.

Example:

If you take out a home equity loan with a fixed interest rate of 5% for $20,000, you'll pay $1,000 annually in interest.

2. Origination Fees

Lenders often charge an origination fee for processing the loan. This fee can be a flat amount or a percentage of the loan. It's a one-time cost that can be significant, so it's important to factor this into your decision.

Example:

An origination fee of 1% on a $20,000 loan would cost $200.

3. Appraisal Fees

To determine the amount of equity you have in your home, lenders usually require an appraisal. This assesses your home's market value and ensures it’s sufficient to secure the loan.

Example:

An appraisal might cost between $300 and $600.

4. Closing Costs

Similar to when you first bought your home, closing costs are associated with taking out a home equity loan. These can include fees for legal work, document preparation, and title searches.

Example:

Closing costs might range from 2% to 5% of the loan amount. For a $20,000 loan, this could be between $400 and $1,000.

5. Annual Fees

Some lenders charge annual fees to maintain the loan. These fees can vary and might be assessed as part of the overall cost of borrowing.

Example:

An annual fee might be around $50 to $100.

6. Prepayment Penalties

Check if your loan has a prepayment penalty. This fee applies if you pay off the loan early, and it's designed to compensate the lender for lost interest income.

Example:

A prepayment penalty might be 2% of the remaining loan balance.

7. Other Considerations

Property Taxes: If your home’s value increases, so might your property taxes.

Insurance: Your lender may require you to maintain homeowners insurance.

Conclusion

Understanding these costs helps you better assess whether a home equity loan fits your financial needs. Always compare offers from different lenders and read the fine print to avoid surprises.

[inboundremblog]

How Much Are Closing Costs in Orange County California: Real Estate Transactions Guide

Credit: Image by Alena Darmel | Pexels

Unlocking the Mystery: How Much Are Closing Costs in Orange County, California?

What are, and how much are closing costs in Orange County, California?

Other costs that come under closing costs are those charged when closing a real estate deal and can be paid either by the buyer or the seller, licensed agents, etc.

In Orange County, the specific sum may differ depending on parameters such as the property's value, the particular terms of the mortgage loan, and the details of the individual transaction.

Understanding these expenses is equally important, especially for anyone in the market who wants to purchase or sell a house in this prime area.

This article defines the various charges included under the broad umbrella of closing costs in Orange County to assist anyone in estimating the charges correctly.

Key Elements of Closing Costs

Loan Origination Fees

These are fees that the borrower perceives as a cost that the lender has imposed on the borrower for providing the loan. They usually range from five percent to one percent of the loaned amount.

Appraisal Fees

A realtor must be hired to make an appraisal to help determine the property's value. This fee may range typically from $300 to $600.

Title Insurance

Title insurance covers future events related to a property's title. The price difference ranges, on average, from $500 to about $1500.

Escrow Fees

An escrow company assists the whole deal with the cash distribution process, completing the entire process as expected. The costs generally used to obtain an escrow may range from $500 to $2000.

Recording Fees

Your local government could collect these fees from you to help you process the requirements needed to transfer the property into your name. They usually cost at least $100 to $250.

Real Estate Agent Commissions

Real estate agent commissions often vary from 5% to 6% of the sale amount and are shared equally between the seller's and the buyer's agent.

Home Inspection Fees

A home inspection costs between $300 and $500 and helps ensure that all the property's parts are functional.

Notary Fees

These are sometimes needed to notarize other documents that might be required, and the cost could be $100-$150.

Pest Inspection Fees

Some instances require a pest inspection, usually costing between $100 and $200.

Prepaid Expenses include property tax, home insurance, and mortgage interest. The figure may differ depending on the kind of property and loan.

Factors Affecting Closing Costs

Several factors can affect closing costs in Orange County, including:

Property Price

Closing costs for homes sold at higher prices are typically higher because they are calculated based on a percentage of the sales price.

For instance, expenses such as title insurance, escrow fees, and transfer taxes are often proportional to the property's value. Additionally, more significant mortgage amounts can increase loan origination, appraisal, and points fees.

Therefore, buyers and sellers should expect higher closing costs for properties sold at significant amounts.

Type of Loan

Besides, additional requirements are specific to some types of loans and the relevant fees. For example, the F.H.A. loan may be simplified by its relatively high costs, such as requiring a more significant down payment or other initial costs. Still, it has lower interest rates than conventional loans.

Negotiation

Commission may also be bargained between the purchaser and the property vendor. For example, a seller can offer to 'buy down' a part of the closing cost attached to the real estate to assure the buyer to close the transaction.

Service Providers

Consumers must opt for fewer service providers, including title companies, Escrow Companies, home inspectors, and other title closing costs. It is also important to note that fees differ from broker to broker, so it is prudent to note the fees charged.

Location

Certain local taxes and fees, like special assessments or transfer taxation, may vary depending on the particular neighborhood or district within Orange County.

For example, some areas might have higher special assessment fees for community improvements, while transfer taxes might differ based on local ordinances.

Both buyers and sellers must be mindful of these potential variations when exploring properties in different parts of the county, as they can impact the overall cost of the transaction.

Awareness of these factors allows individuals to make informed decisions and accurately assess the financial implications of their real estate transactions.

Reducing Closing Costs

Both consumers and sellers can take steps to minimize their closing costs, including:

Shop Around

It's beneficial to contact multiple lenders and different title and escrow companies to inquire about their fees. By comparing rates, you can strive to find the most reasonable and competitive pricing for your needs.

Negotiate

In most cases, there is usually a bargaining process with the other side about splitting or reimbursing some or all the closing costs. For instance, a seller may propose to the buyer that he or she bear the invoice of the owner’s title insurance.

Review the Loan Estimate

Borrowers are entitled to receive the loan estimate from the lender within three days of application completion. To establish the probable closing costs, read the document and establish whether any areas of understanding are ambiguous or if any fees seem to be inordinately high.

Ask for Seller Concessions

Potential buyers can also ask sellers for certain contingencies to pay some closing costs while bargaining for the purchase price. This can be particularly helpful in a buyer’s market because sellers might be more open to such an approach.

Use a No-Closing-Cost Loan

Different lenders provide no-closing-cost mortgage loans in which the closing costs are included in the Mortgage Balance or paid off through a higher Mortgage Rate. Although this helps save money initially, it leads to an increased term of paying off the borrowed sum.

The following points explain why closing costs should be considered an integral part of real estate transactions in Orange County, California. Both buyers and sellers must also be aware of these costs to conduct a transaction efficiently.

In every real estate transaction, expenses related to the conveyance of title to real estate must be ascertained, and these expenses may indeed affect the financial relationships between the two entities.

Get more fascinating information on our website at https://occoastrealestate.com/orange-country-closing-costs/.

[my-castles-crumbling]

fee - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 152

"Let me in, Potter."

"No."

"James I swear to fucking Merlin if you don't-"

A head of dark hair poked through a crack in the door. James sent him a dazzling smile that would have made him weak at the knees if he wasn't so pissed off. "What's up, love?" he asked, as if Regulus was not sending daggers at him with his eyes.

Crossing his arms, Regulus scoffed. "Let me in our bathroom, James."

"But Reg!" James whined, drawing out his name. "Padfoot and I learning to do eyeliner!"

"James. I need to use the toilet."

"Fine," James sighed, sticking his head completely through the door. He appraised him for a moment before smirking. "But there's an entrance fee. One ki-"

"James Fleamont Potter if you do not let me in this bathroom right the fuck now, I will use a rusty kitchen knife to cut off your p-"

"Yes, dear!"

[vrtualirl]

𓏴⠀⠀༝༝⠀𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓗𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 ! . 𓌔𓌔

Table of contents ⋮ Mikage Reo, love motel, drunk sex, bar, prostitute reader, bribed sex, dry humping, clothed sex, hairpulling, hickeys / lovebites, claw marks, thigh fucking, having sex while on the phone, blowjob, unprotected sex, porn without plot, fucking in the car, semi-public sex, aged up Reo, and gender neutral reader ♡

Summary ⋮ In which, Mikage Reo goes to a bar with his teammates after they had won a soccer match. Unfortunately, for him, he had gotten intoxicated over the drinks, and decided to hire a prostitute that works in the bar just for tonight. All while renting a love hotel just for the both of you.

Note ⋮ Minors do not interact. But anyway, arigathanks @cyberlovesalcohol for the request laughs.

★ ─── 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐃 through the dimly lit bar, his vision blurred by the intoxicating effects of the alcohol coursing through his veins. The pulsing beat of the music thrummed in his ears, a dizzying cacophony that seemed to mirror the chaos swirling in his mind. He leaned heavily against the counter, his chin resting on the polished wood as he groaned in frustration. The bet he had made with his teammates now felt like a cruel joke, a challenge he had foolishly accepted in a moment of drunken bravado.

As his teammates, Chigiri Hyoma and Nagi Seishiro, announced their departure to the bathroom, Reo waved them off dismissively, his words slurring together in a jumbled mess. "Reo, me and Nagi and are gonna go to the bathroom for a moment." Chigiri's voice seemed to echo in the haze of Reo's intoxication, the red-haired male patting Reo's shoulder to get his attention. Reo merely grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes struggling to focus on the faces of his friends as they left him alone at the bar.

With a heavy sigh, Reo pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to alleviate the throbbing pain that pulsed behind his eyes. As he shifted uncomfortably on his stool, he became acutely aware of the growing arousal that strained against the confines of his pants. The alcohol had lowered his inhibitions, leaving him in a state of desperate need, but the presence of his teammates in the bathroom made it impossible for him to seek relief on his own.

Reo's gaze wandered aimlessly around the bar, his intoxicated mind grasping for a solution to his predicament. Suddenly, his eyes landed on a figure leaning against the wall, scrolling idly on their phone. As the person glanced up, meeting Reo's half-lidded stare, a flicker of recognition sparked in Reo's alcohol-addled brain. "Oho? Hey cutie. What's up with you?" the stranger asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"Hi.." Reo managed to slur, his words barely audible above the din of the bar. The stranger chuckled, pocketing their phone as they appraised Reo with a knowing smirk. "You want something from me, or something?" they inquired, their tone laced with a seductive promise.

Reo's gaze raked over the stranger's form, his intoxicated mind fixating on the alluring curves and the tantalizing glimpses of skin revealed by their clothing. "Yeah.. You," he blurted out, his inhibitions lowered to the point of recklessness. The stranger's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by a calculating gleam. "And what do I get in return?" they asked, holding out a hand expectantly.

With fumbling fingers, Reo pulled out his wallet, extracting a stack of bills that far exceeded the usual fee for such services. The stranger's eyes widened at the sight of the generous offering, a slow grin spreading across their face. "Alright, alright.. I'm in, then." they purred, snatching the money from Reo's grasp.

As the stranger led Reo away from the bar, weaving through the throng of patrons with a practiced ease, Reo's heart raced with a heady mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The alcohol had lowered his defenses, leaving him vulnerable to the temptations of the night. Little did he know, the stranger had their own agenda, one that would leave Reo questioning the true nature of their encounter long after the haze of intoxication had lifted.

Reo's heart raced as the stranger led him through the dimly lit alleyway, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat that simmered beneath his skin. The alcohol coursing through his veins had lowered his inhibitions, leaving him vulnerable to the temptations that lay ahead. With a sudden surge of boldness, Reo pulled the stranger back, his intoxicated mind taking control. He guided them to his car, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

As they approached his car, a sleek and luxurious vehicle that spoke of wealth and status, Reo felt a flicker of lust. This was not the usual setting for his clandestine encounters, but the promise of pleasure overrode any reservations he might have had.

Reo's heart raced as he guided the mysterious stranger into the backseat of his luxurious car, the plush leather seats enveloping them in a cocoon of intimacy. The stranger's skilled hands roamed over Reo's body, teasing and caressing with a practiced ease that sent shivers down his spine. Reo's breath hitched as the stranger's fingers brushed against the straining bulge in his pants, his hips bucking involuntarily in search of more friction.

With a deft motion, the stranger unzipped Reo's pants, freeing his throbbing erection from its confines. Reo groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as the cool air of the car caressed his heated flesh. The stranger's tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate path along the underside of Reo's shaft before swirling around the sensitive head, teasing the bead of precum that had formed at the tip.

Reo's fingers tangled in the stranger's hair, guiding their head as they took him deeper into the warm, wet cavern of their mouth. The stranger's tongue worked in tandem with their lips, creating a delicious friction that had Reo's toes curling in ecstasy. Just as he was about to lose himself completely in the sensations, his phone buzzed with an incoming call, shattering the intimate atmosphere.

With a frustrated groan, Reo answered the call, his voice strained as he tried to maintain a semblance of composure. "Hello..?" he managed to gasp out, his hips twitching as the stranger continued their ministrations.

"Reo? Hey, we just went back from the bathroom and we didn't find you. Where are you?" Chigiri's voice filtered through the phone, concern lacing his tone.

Reo's mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for his absence. "H-haah.. I'm about to head home.. I got too drunk, so I'm leaving early, fuck.." he managed to choke out, his grip on the stranger's hair tightening as they hollowed their cheeks, increasing the suction.

Chigiri laughed, oblivious to the compromising position Reo found himself in. "Oh, I see. I'm pretty surprised you left Nagi behind though. He's whining on how he wants to go home with you because walking is too much of a hassle, he says."

Reo gritted his teeth, his free hand clenching into a fist as he fought to maintain his composure. "Y-yeah, yeah.. Just head him home.. I can't go back.. I-i'm busy."

As the call ended, Reo let his head fall back against the headrest, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. The stranger's tongue traced the sensitive underside of his shaft once more before engulfing him fully, their head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm that had Reo seeing stars.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, Reo surrendered himself to the moment, his inhibitions lowered to the point of recklessness. The stranger's skilled mouth worked him closer and closer to the edge, their tongue and lips coaxing him towards a release he desperately craved. With a final, muffled moan, Reo's body tensed, his hips bucking as he spilled himself into the stranger's eager mouth, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over him in an overwhelming tide.

As the last tremors of his orgasm subsided, Reo collapsed back against the seat, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The stranger released him with a final, teasing lick, their lips curving into a satisfied smirk as they wiped the remnants of his release from their chin. Reo watched through hooded eyes as the stranger tucked him back into his pants, their fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Reo just couldn't get enough of you. His hands gripped your shoulders tightly as he whined, "M-mmf.. More, more please. I want more.." He was already completely wrapped around your fingers, and you two had only just met. You awkwardly blinked at him, before letting out a small, amused laugh. "Alright, alright," you hummed, sitting back in the car. However, you were caught off guard when Reo suddenly moved to the front seat. "What're you doing?" You hum. With a few quick motions, he switched something and pressed a button. "Auto driving mode." he replied so casually, as if it was no big deal. You sweatdropped, realizing just how incredibly wealthy he must be. Your own car didn't even have such an advanced feature. The difference in your wealth was stark.

But you tried not to dwell on it too much. After all, you were getting paid handsomely for this job. As the car smoothly transitioned to auto driving mode, Reo returned to the back seat with you. His hands gripped your hips possessively as your arms encircled his neck. He pushed you down onto the plush leather seats, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. At the same time, he began grinding his hard cock against your clothed bottom, seeking delicious friction. You moaned into the kiss, your body already responding to his touch.

Lost in the haze of lust, you didn't even question where Reo was driving you both to. His tongue delved into your mouth, making you gasp for air. He rolled his hips against your thighs, wondering how incredible you would feel clenching around his throbbing shaft. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his tongue along your neck, leaving a path of hickeys and love bites in its wake. You tugged at his hair, a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

Reo knew he needed to wait until they reached a nearby hotel before taking things further. He couldn't risk his parents finding out about this tryst in the morning. Groaning, he squeezed your plump thighs, appreciating the softness of your skin. His other hand roamed over your curves, tracing every dip and contour of your body. He was drunk on your scent, your taste, your touch...

Suddenly, the car came to a stop. Reo glanced out the window and spotted a love hotel nearby. They must have arrived at their destination. He quickly pulled his pants back up, not wanting to risk getting caught with his pants down. Taking your hand, he practically dragged you out of the car, locking it behind you. He strode purposefully towards the front desk, using his black card to pay for a night's stay. Your eyes widened at the sight of it - you had suspected he was rich, but carrying around a black card so casually? He was loaded.

"Here are your keys, enjoy," the receptionist said with a knowing smile, clearly recognizing a couple looking for some privacy. Reo didn't waste any time, hastily dragging you to your assigned room. He pinned you against the door, claiming your mouth in a searing kiss as his hands groped your body. Fumbling with the keys, he finally managed to unlock the door and push you inside, locking it behind you.

Wasting no time, Reo stripped off his clothes, eager to get his hands on you. He tugged at your clothing impatiently as he dragged you towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded garments in your wake. Finally naked, he sprung his hard cock free, groaning at the sight of your exposed body. He teased your clothed hole with his leaking tip, rubbing against it for delicious friction. He also ground his shaft against your closed thighs, thrusting between them and coating your skin with his precum.

Unable to hold back any longer, Reo came all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. He sighed, finally removing your underwear so he could sink into your tight heat. Gripping your hips, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pushing his tip against your entrance. You clung to him, moaning as he stretched you open. You moaned, forming claw marks on his back as he slid inside, your walls clenching around his thick shaft.

"M-mngh─ fuck.." Reo groaned, slowly sinking into your warmth. "H-haah.. S-so warm, and tight," he praised, savoring the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him. He began to move, rolling his hips against yours, fucking you raw. All you could do was moan, tugging at his hair as he took you right there on the hotel bed, lost in a haze of passion and desire.

.

.

.

.

.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the hotel room. You groaned softly as you stirred awake, your head feeling fuzzy and your body aching all over. Your thighs in particular throbbed with a dull soreness. Blinking blearily, you reached out to pull back the sheets, only to realize you were completely naked. For a moment, you were disoriented, unsure of where you were. This was definitely not your bedroom.

As your vision focused, you took in your surroundings - the plush carpet, the expensive-looking furniture, the faint scent of sex still lingering in the air. Memories of the previous night came flooding back. Right, you had taken a job as a prostitute and spent the night with a wealthy stranger, fucking him senseless in exchange for cold hard cash. Just another typical night on the job for you.

But as you sat up and looked around, your eyes widened in shock. The bed was absolutely covered in stacks of crisp bills, more money than you had ever seen in one place. Holy shit, this guy was loaded! You couldn't believe it. Sure, he might have fucked you so hard you could barely walk now, but this kind of cash could keep you afloat for almost a whole year!

A slow grin spread across your face as you reached out to grab a handful of the bills, relishing the feel of them in your hands. Maybe getting pounded into oblivion by some rich dude wasn't so bad after all, if it meant waking up to a king's ransom like this. You chuckled to yourself, already thinking about all the ways you could spend your newfound wealth.

Sure, your body might be sore and aching, but your bank account was going to be looking mighty fine after this. All in all, not a bad night's work for a prostitute like you. You stretched languidly, enjoying the pleasant burn of well-used muscles, and reached for your clothes. Time to hit the road and see just how far this cash could take you.

[kittybroker]

I've noticed a lot of the kitties are priced around $15, and I wanted to submit my kitty for an appraisal; his adoption fee was exactly $15 eight years ago. His hair production has increased significantly and he also keeps my shoes safe. Has Lazarus appreciated in value?

Fine Lazarus proving to be quite the worthy investment! With high fur production and guaranteed shoe safety, this kitty is quite the deal, coming in at only $25.00 today!

[laurentidal]

At Work

Marcus looked down at Jessica, the gentle hum of the tattoo needle filling the air between them. She squirmed lightly on the towel. She’d said she wanted a tattoo on her left calf, then stripped completely naked. Now, Marcus liked to consider himself a gentleman, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If a beautiful woman wanted him to see her naked, who was he to protest?

“What is it you want, exactly?” he asked.

“A spiral,” she answered, grinning.

“A spiral,” he repeated slowly.

She nodded. “Black and bold. I want it to draw the eye. I want people to look at it.”

“You got it.”

And so Marcus went to work. Outlining. Filling. Spinning with the ink. All the while she whimpered with delight.

“Can you see the appeal, Marcus?” she asked him.

He snapped back to the room, having not fully realized the daze he’d drifted into. The work was easy and methodical, and the room had filled with a relaxing scent that he was pretty sure he knew the origin of.

“Yeah,” he mumbled softly.

“I recently just fell in love with spirals. Don’t you think they’re easy to fall into?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you think spirals are easy to fall in love with?”

“Ah. I suppose.”

The fogginess was returning to him as he worked and she cooed softly about spinning and dropping and falling. His mind drifted to autopilot as his hand worked. Line after line. Arc after arc. Always spinning inward. Downward.

“That’s it, Marcus,” she was singing. “Fall into my spiral as you make it. Drift downward into the ink.”

“Downward,” he repeated dumbly.

If he’d have had the wherewithal to look up at her when she spoke, he’d have seen her pawing and pinching her breasts furiously. Even with her arousal at a peak, she kept her leg perfectly still as he worked.

“When it’s done,” she said softly, “you’ll be in the spiral’s center, Marcus. Do you know what happens there?”

“No.”

“Anything I want.”

“Anything you want.”

He finished the last line. The sound of the tiny piston trailed off as Marcus released the tattoo gun. However, his eyes continued to stare straight ahead at his work. Her spiral. It was perfect on her skin and he was in the center.

“Stand, Marcus.”

He stood silently, eyes still glued to the spiral. The redness of the skin around those black swirls seemed to make it glow. They twisted inward forever, trapping him at its center. Where anything she wanted happened.

“Pants off.”

Marcus obeyed, cock springing out of his boxers. It had been so hard ever since her tits had first come into view. Now it was free.

She ran a fingernail up and down its length, appraising it.

“Marcus, you can look away from the spiral now, but keep it in your mind. Stay at its center. Look at me.”

He looked into her eyes, his eyes glazed and dreamy.

She sat up on the table, legs spreading wide.

“I have no money with which to pay you, Marcus. But I think you’ll find that the opportunity to taste my pussy will be payment enough, won’t it?”

“Payment enough,” he said flatly.

“Then get in there and take your fee.”

“Yes, Jessica.”

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[catierambles]

Witch Hunt Ch. 4

Cait sat back in the chair with a sigh, one of the files that had been sent over laid out on the desk in front of her.

“How do they get anything done over there?” She asked.

“Haven’t a clue.” Walter said as he read over witness statements. “Our newest victim was also an antiques dealer, only privately this time. No store. Worked strictly from her office.”

“Any date book or cell phone in her personal effects?” Cait asked, “She may have had an appointment with the guy.”

“No date book,” Walter said, getting up from the desk and heading over to one of the boxes and pulling out an evidence bag. “Cell phone. It’s locked, but I can send it to the lab to see if they can crack it.”

“Walter, this woman was an antiques dealer, not a CIA Agent.” She said and sighed again, “Let me see it.” He opened the bag, cutting through the evidence tape, while she put on a pair of nitrile gloves, handing the cell phone over. “Was she married? Have kids?”

“Widowed with a daughter.”

“Four digit PIN.” She said, looking at the screen. “Anniversary date?”

“February third.” Walter said and she punched in 0-2-0-3 with the stylus from her own phone as the touchscreen wouldn’t register with the gloves.

“Nope.” Cait said, playing the long game as she couldn’t just go straight for the correct answer without raising eyebrows. “When did her husband die?”

“November twenty-second.”

1-1-2-2

“Nope. What’s her daughters’ birthday?”

“April twenty-third.”

0-4-2-3

“And we’re in.” She said as the lock screen gave way to the home screen. “Have an entry in her calendar for yesterday evening. Ethan Wyatt - Ring.”

“Any phone number?”

“No dice, looks like they communicated via email.” She said, going through the inbox. “Attached to one is an appraisal for a ring. Twelfth century, carved from obsidian and inlaid with rubies.” She gave a low whistle.

“What?”

“Worth more than I would make in a decade.” She said, “They find a ring at the scene?”

“No.” Walter said, shaking his head. “Damn old ring.”

“And unique.” Cait said, “They used metal back then with some precious gems. Even now you won’t find a lot of jewelry made strictly from obsidian. Inlaid, yes, but not entirely made of it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s volcanic glass, not stone. Primarily used for tools and weapons, not jewelry, and again, not entirely.” She said, “If this Wyatt guy is our man, could be we found a motive.”

“I’ll get someone on tracking down the name and put out a BOLO on a ring matching that description.”

“If it is him, he won’t try to sell it right away. Too hot. Something that unique...no, he’d sit on it for a while before trying to sell it. Or, he may not at all. Insurance company come back with pictures of the first victims’ inventory?”

“Not yet.” Walter said, “They gave me the run around when I first called before agreeing to send them over, might need to get a judge to sign a warrant. If he’s going after antiques dealers for something they have in stock, that’d be a connection.”

“First we need to figure out if Ethan Wyatt is our man. I doubt it’s his real name if it is him, he had to have known she would have marked down the appointment.” Cait said.

“You never made this connection with the others?” Walter asked but she shook her head.

“The other victims weren’t in that business. Stay at home mom, lawyer, a paramilitary gun-nut. No connection between any of them.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She said, going back to the emails, “Put out the BOLO anyway for the ring, just to cover bases, while someone looks into Wyatt. In their first communication he said he was a museum curator putting together an exhibit for that time period, didn’t say what museum though. A lot of haggling over the finders’ fee before they settled on a figure. Not full sticker price, but close.”

“It’ll take some time before anything comes back. Feel like lunch?”

“I could eat. Any place in mind?”

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Can’t get enough of it.”

“There’s a place downtown that has a good lunch special. Come on, my treat.” He said, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket.

“How’s their miso?”

“Soul warming.” He said and she gave a small huff of a laugh. Locking the phone again, she placed it back into the evidence bag and retaped it, using a sharpie to mark it with the date and her initials, before stripping off the gloves and tossing them in the wastebasket by his desk. “Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty.”

“I’m not that much older than you!” He objected with a smile and she laughed.

“Scoot your butt! Go!” She said and he left the office ahead of her, not seeing how she briefly checked out the fit of his dark jeans.

Walter smiled gently at her across the small table as her lips twisted almost wistfully after she took a sip from the bowl of miso, foregoing the spoon altogether. Their lunch orders were being worked on, the soup and salad brought to the table first.

“Good?” He asked and she hummed with a nod. “Good.”

“Good call.”

“I have my moments.” Walter said, “So, Cait.”

“Yes?”

“What were you assigned before...”

“The horrible murders?” She asked, setting down the bowl, and he nodded, “Pseudo-religious paramilitary organizations.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, the government’s gonna come for our freedoms,” She took on a slightly over the top southern televangelist accent, “We gotta arm ourselves with AKs in the name of Jaysus Christ hallelujah amen.” She gave a small cough to clear her throat, “They're a dime a dozen in the Deep South.” Cait finished, dropping the accent.

“Ah.” He said with a chuckle. “I'm guessing they didn't like it when the Feds showed up on their doorstep.”

“They didn't know I was a Fed, just another member of the flock.” She said, “Right up until I gave the signal and they were raided by the FBI and the ATF.”

“Don't remember hearing about anything about that.”

“They aren't all big showdowns with riot gear and helicopters. The ones the public do know about are rare, as the leaders of the groups almost always fold when the government actually does show up. A well organized raid takes all of an hour of prep, and about five minutes after breach to be done and dusted. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, last one to the bar buys the first round.”

“What did your family think of you getting into this line of work?”

“Oh they approved of it. Whole heartedly.” She said, “I grew up in what was basically a giant commune. Family, extended family, friends close enough to be considered family. When I said I wanted to go into law enforcement, they were overjoyed. It was also a bit of a family tradition. Mom was also in the FBI.”

“What about your father?”

“Never met the man. Don’t even know his name.” She said, “Mom told me when I was old enough that I’m the product of a one-night stand. Blowing off steam after the conclusion of an assignment. She never tried to track him down, and I never cared enough to look into it. Besides, with the amount of people I grew up around, I wasn’t short on father figures. I can name three men I considered my father, and genetics had nothing to do it.”

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

Completely out of context collection of words from @onedivinemisfit's camboy!au. Enjoy!

He’s heavy, dead weight, and even a youth of carrying in crates of liquor from the back of her grandfather’s pickup truck hasn’t prepared her for his noodily flopping. Also. He stinks. Of booze and god knows what else. Which is why she’s dragging this incapacitated lush straight to the bathroom even though her couch is right there.

Thud.

The dead speaks. “Ow, fuck.”

“Sorry,” Shirayuki grimaces, and presses her back against the door frame so she can wedge him through the narrow turn of the century opening, as opposed to knocking his face against the molding. It’s a difficult transaction. For someone so skinny, he weighs a whole lot more than he looks.

Obi lands gracelessly on the closed toilet seat with a grunt and it is only when the bright fluorescent light above the sink stutters to life that she’s able to take stock of him. He’s a hot Saturday night mess.

Long legs squeak inside their shiny pleather pants, the button of his fly unsurprisingly undone and giving her the faintest peak of curly hair before she quickly redirects her appraisal north of the bellybutton. His chest is bare beneath the leather jacket, rose ink mixed with faint bruising that crawls up his neck. His makeup has smeared. Or maybe it’s someone else’s. She would imagine a professional would invest in smear proof. Or not. What does she know?

“Busy night,” she remarks dryly.

“Say that with a tad more judgement,” comes the hazy response. “I want to feel even more like shit.”

Shirayuki manages to hold back her sigh. Barely. “What happened to the live stream?”

“Did it.” There’s only the barest hint of gold between his lashes before he winces, slamming them shut again. The light must be a bitch. Too bad. “It was a little slow and the transaction fees are eating up my bottom line. Landlords don’t care if my clients’ stocks are down.”

She may or may not have heard Zen make mention of market volatility on Tuesday. She didn’t understand it then. Still doesn’t, to be honest. “Don’t you have savings?”

His dry, mocking laughter tells her that was… uninformed. “Savings?” he says, and embarrassed guilt lands like cold lead in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, look at our fierce social justice warrior, ally of sex workers. Thinking the job comes with savings.”

Heat creeps up the back of her neck and she squares her shoulders. “Well. I read--” Her teeth click together and she turns neatly on her heel, fiddling with the water faucet before she can walk into another debate about data versus lived experience. “I thought you’d put something aside for a rainy day.”

“Oh, Miss,” he sighs. “They’re all rainy days.”

That really isn’t helping her sudden bout of indigestion. Thankfully, she’s unlocked the correct combination of half and quarter turns and water sputters and spits before flooding out in a steady stream. “How hot do you want it?”

“Eh?!” His whole face is wincing against the light, but he seems compelled to battle it if only to let her see his horror. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You stink,” she says over his shoulder, giving him a��� less than kind one over. “You’ve got to want a bath.”

“Your soap probably smells like rainbows and butterflies,” he complains, and no it doesn’t. Chemical fragrances give her a headache. “How am I supposed to sleep knowing that I smell like… unicorn mating musk?”

Fine. If he’s not going to give her an answer, luke warm it is. “Unicorns aren’t real.”

“Just leave me in here.” His eyes are closed again, hands gesturing vaguely at nothing. “I’ll clean up any vomit before I leave.”

“Why did you even come here anyway?” Shirayuki runs a wrist under the water. Maybe a touch warmer. “Not satisfied with contradicting everything I say during two-hour seminars twice a week?”

“Wanted to give you a sneak peek at what the business looks like outside your glossy books.” He peers at her beneath heavy lashes, the thin bands of gold nearly as vivid as his hoops. “See if you're still so keen to write your glowing reviews of the trade.”

Heat surges up from her chest, burning her throat and she just manages to bite her tongue before she falls habit to her fundamental need to be right. “Look," she grits through her teeth. "I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

He snorts, and the steam is making the room humid, making her skin clammy in precisely the way that sets her teeth on edge. She opens the window by the sink and cold winter air pours in. She’ll be useless if she loses her temper here. Diplomacy is what is needed.

“You are in my house." She's careful to enunciate every word, measuring them out syllable by syllable. "Therefore, you are my guest and I am here to take care of you.”

He’s staring at her, frowning in a way that’s hard to look directly at. But he's quiet (for once) so she presses on. “Because you are under my care, you are going to take a bath.” This was a non-negotiable. “Then you are going to drink some water and maybe eat something before brushing your teeth and going to sleep. I’ll go digging to see if I can find something clean for you to wear."

"Who even talks like this?" he mutters, almost to himself. She ignores him. "Are you from a video game or somethi--"

"Also!" She reaches under the counter, pulling out a fresh towel. "Also. I have a cat that may or may not decide to sleep on your face. There’s nothing I can do about that last part.”

“Wait.” He’s looking towards the dark living room with interest. “You have a cat?”

“Yes. Her name is Shadow and she’s cooler than you,” she informs him, placing a toothbrush, still in its packaging, atop the towel next to him. “Now are you sober enough to handle taking a bath or do you need my help?”

“I—” He looks around the bathroom like he’s not entirely sure how he got here. “Can I take a piss first?”

[sporksaber]

Does anyone know how much those trees are worth?

It was hard for me to tell but based on an image with someone standing close to a tree they look like they were at least 40 feet with a 60 in circumference. At least. (Though I could be wrong, I couldn't find a picture with someone directly next to the whole tree before they were cut)

I found a few appraisal calculators and they say it's (base price)×(circumference)×(height). I couldn't find the base price for ficus but on the low end that size ranges from 840 to 2500 each. And provided they don't succeed in claiming it was accidental, the fine would be multiplied by 3. So 2500 to 7500 each minimum.

I did some more research after the first part because I realized figs are fruit. Ficus is probably fruitwood. Meaning the base value is 18. The value with that size is 43000. And the fine works be 129000. Each.

I cant tell how many there are. But it looks like at least 10. Meaning the fee would be 1.3million which, doesn't feel like a lot for universal to be honest.

But anyways, if you have more accurate information please add it.

[theperrylleluniverse]

"Afternoon sun was slanting in through the windows of Perry Mason's office and casting reflections on the glass doors of the sectional bookcases as Perry Mason pushed through the office door and tossed a brief case to a table. 'I got a plea in that knife case,' he said. 'They reduced it from assault with a deadly weapon with intent to commit murder, to simple assault, and I grabbed at the chance.' 'Get any fee?' she asked. He shook his head. 'That was a charity case,' he said. 'After all, you couldn't blame the woman; she'd been goaded beyond human endurance. She didn't have any good money and she didn't have any friends.' Della Street stared at him in smiling appraisal, her eyes warm. 'You would,' she said. -The Case of the Lucky Legs (1934) by Erle Stanley Gardner

HES A GOOD NOODLE!!!!!!! 😭💕😭

[marlynnofmany]

The Brief Mystery of the Escape from Storage Hold B

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” said my new shipmate, flipping a blue-black tentacle. He was the pointy-headed variety of Strongarm, looking more like a squid than an octopus, and I wasn’t honestly sure if that made him a different species or not. All that mattered today was that he was in charge of the cargo in this room, which kept getting out of its pen. One had apparently even made it down the hallway before he caught up with a net.

“You’re sure this species can’t teleport or anything like that?” I asked as I looked through the clear walls at the four-legged beasties. I’d seen enough already in my jaunt through the galaxy that I wasn’t ruling anything out. These creatures had long necks and stringy orange fur that I could swear moved on its own. Terrier-sized llamas with sea anemone jackets.

“If they can teleport, we are not getting paid enough to transport them,” the squiddy guy said. What was his name? Merv? Right, Mur.

“At least they’re only going for the food,” I said. “No gaps in the walls that I can see.” I paced around the enclosure, where the handful of animals perked up and came to watch me. “The roof doesn’t lift off, does it?”

Mur scoffed, a flappy noise that was much funnier to me than I let on. “Not likely. It’s clamped on tight, and how would they get up there anyway? They might as well be squeezing through the air holes.”

“Which air— Oh, these things? These are pretty big.” I gave the rectangular cutouts an appraising stare. High off the ground or not, they were definitely big enough for a properly motivated small creature to fit through. But these critters were shin-height, and the vents were almost too high for me to reach.

“The walls are not climbable,” Mur declared, curling three tentacles in irritation. “We’ve used this pen for climbing animals before; it’s designed on the molecular level to make them slide off. Even the suction cup sticky types. And again, if they can teleport or levitate or something, then the people who engaged our services are going to get a big fat Liar’s Fee on their bill.”

“How high can they jump?” I asked. Waggling fingers at the orange llama-things, I crouched for a closer look. Two big ones waddled over on stiff legs while a smaller one hopped erratically, kicking its feet up like an excited rabbit.

“Not that high, surely.”

The little one ramped up to full zoomies, dashing about in a circle.

“Just how sure are you?” I asked. As I stood back up, the little orange creature jumped off the side of another one instead of going around, knocking it over with a complaining bleat.

These aren’t space llamas, I thought. These are space goats.

The fallen one got back onto its feet with the improbable help of its fur — yeah, that was definitely a field of tentacles instead of hair.

Mur wove his own tentacles together. “There’s no way.”

“I’ll bet you they’re getting out the vents,” I said, rejoining him. “I have seen animals like this on my planet reach some impressive heights. What do people wager on this ship? Money, food, entertainment?”

He gave me a speculative look. “Say more about that last one.”

“If I’m wrong, I’ll stand on a table and sing a space shanty.”

“Done. How to you expect to prove it?”

“Firstly, do you guys really not have a camera in this storage hold? I thought that was standard for everything but the private quarters.”

Mur gave a bubbling sigh and wrapped a tentacle around the back of his pointy head, gesturing upward with another. “We have one. It’s broken. Don’t ask whose fault it is. We’re going to get it fixed soon.”

“What about a handheld?” I asked, pulling out mine and unfolding it. “Wide screen and an adhesive function; if we leave the door open, I can stick it where we can watch from the hallway.”

“Sure. Why not. At least we’ll get some entertainment at mealtime.”

While I set up the camera with a wide focus, Mur got out the food for the space goats. This immediately drew their attention. They all clustered on that side of the pen, the smaller ones bouncing in place with no regard for whether they landed on floor or friend.

Mur dumped a small container of food onto the floor: little green nubbins of some sort. Could have been peas, frogs, or erasers. The space goats clearly liked them.

“Oh no,” Mur said theatrically. “I have spilled food. I will have to get something to clean it up. I’d better go do that.” He shoved the rest back into the storage cabinet, closed it, then slapped his way to the exit.

I moved out of sight, watching the camera. He had barely cleared the doorway when the smallest three got running starts around the enclosure, sprang up at an angle, and slid across the wall like figure skaters. The first one to reach a vent dove through it with all the smoothness of a prize-winning pole vaunter. The second was partway through when the third slammed into it. Both complained; one fell to the floor of the pen; the other used its sea-anemone fur to grasp the edge of the hole and pull itself through.

The second one joined the first in snorffling up food while the third got another running start.

I looked at Mur.

“Ugggh,” he said, pressing tentacles across his face. “I hate animal cargo.”

“Do we need gloves or anything to catch them?” I asked. “They look poisonous.”

“If so, no one’s told me that either. No, we can just use the nets. We’d better hurry before they get out of the room.”

“Right.” I put away my handheld and followed him back in, with the door shutting behind us as the five (!) creatures finished the last of the food.

It was an excitable chase that followed, but a successful one. No troublesome space goats made it out to wreak havoc on the rest of the ship. I helped Mur glue mesh over the vents, salvaged from food packaging and probably (probably) strong enough to resist impact from hungry beasties.

The promised entertainment at mealtime was fun. I took pity on Mur and sang along with him, to the enjoyment of the rest of the crew. Luckily we knew at least one space shanty in common.

Then someone else wanted a go, and it became a rollicking celebration. Turns out there are many songs about troublesome animals, and given that a couple of the crewmembers were good with lyrics, soon there was one more.

“I’ve got to write this down,” I said. “There are people back home who’d love it. Say, have you heard the ballad of Stabby the Roomba?”

Even the captain sang along with that one. It was a long time before we got back to our duties, but no one complained.

~~~

I’m exploring backstory for the book that just came out. There are many adventures to be had!

[graycats-arcane-blog]

Lightcannon Week, Day 4 fic!

Prompt: popstar au

Title: All this trouble for a Music Video

Rating: T

Length: 7.4k words

@lightcannonweek

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57035287

Synopsis:

Luxanna could smile all she wanted, but Jinx had a feeling that the popstar's mental breakdown era was long overdue.

. . .

"I don't like this," Ekko said warily, his shoulders curled inward as he stepped into the warehouse. His footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, whispering against the pale stone walls and wavering in the empty air. Pausing a few meters from the door, he scanned their desolate surroundings and added, "We shouldn't be the only ones here."

With far less circumspection, Jinx tossed her duffel bag, letting it hit the concrete floor with a resounding clank. Surveying the same broad floor and dusty walls, she broke into a broad grin, defiant of her companion’s worries. "Are you kidding? This is perfect!" Kneeling next to her bag, she dug noisily through the pockets. "No nosy producers to yak about how we're doing shit wrong. Complete artistic freedom!" Once she found her tape measure, Jinx leaped to her feet and darted to one of the side-walls. The smack of her boots rang out like falling shale. 

Ekko followed her, shaking his head. "If the producers don't get their word in from the start, they'll just ask us to redo our work later," he warned. "But, honestly... I'm more worried about why they're not here. Don't you think it's weird that they've been so hands-off?" 

"What..." Jinx arrived at the wall, brushing an appraising hand over the exposed stonework. "...do you think they all died or something?"

"No! I just think this feels like some sort of scam. Professionals are never like this."

With a snort of laughter, Jinx gave the stonework a fond pat before pulling at her measuring tape. "They'd have to be a pretty dumb scammer, wiring us all our fees in advance. I've got next year's rent in the bag, and I haven't even had to sweat for it yet!" She poked the end of the her tape to Ekko's chest. "You worry too much, Little Man. Now, hold this!"

Ekko accepted the tape. He pressed the metal tab at the end flush to the wall. "If we get mugged here, I'm blaming you."

"If some Demacian tries to mug us, we'll show 'em how sump-rats kick ass!"

Jinx darted with the other end of the measuring-tape to the opposite wall. At her back, she heard Ekko offer one last grumble of suspicion. 

"If the client we spoke with over the phone had at least told us who we're building this set for, I'd feel a lot better about this."

 

. . .

 

By the time Jinx and Ekko had finished measuring their workspace, the street in front of the warehouse had woken. The burble of chatter and clatter of foot-traffic fluttered through the walls, creating a bustling ambiance that made their surroundings feel more alive. These signs of life seemed to put Ekko at ease. Jinx was pleased that he no longer complained about sketchy directors as they settled onto the floor to review their design notes. 

"Since the client wants to start with concept shots before gettin’ decisive on scenes, let's give her variety," Jinx proposed. "I'm thinking we should set up a different style in each corner of the room."

Ekko nodded. "And let’s put a stage in the room's center, something that'll combine elements from the four corners. That way, the client can see how they compare side-by-side."

"Yeah!"

"Now, about the styles to showcase. She said she wants a grungy, street-art vibe. She liked the authentic feel of the intro to Seraphine's Downriver music video..."

At the mention of the Downriver video, Jinx felt a spark of pride. It was the biggest project she'd worked on, the gig that had put both hers and Ekko's set design skills on the map. She always felt good when she thought about it.

Downriver was also the first time she and Ekko had collaborated on a set, unless you counted a childishly-rendered music video they'd cobbled together in middle school. Only Jinx's sister and Vander had been nice enough to watch that old trainwreck. Nevertheless, it was a good memory… 

… One of few good memories they'd made before life had gotten complicated.

In high school, Jinx’s mental health had taken a steep nose-dive. After some fits of violence, injuries to Ekko's friends, and a stint in juvie, she’d become isolated and angry. If Vi hadn't practically dragged her to a psychologist and made her commit to therapy and meds, Jinx might not have escaped the dark pit she’d been spiraling into. 

After she'd regained a decent measure of stability, blind luck had guided her and Ekko down the same career path, reuniting them on the set of Downriver. Their reunion was rough. Ekko had seemed ready to quit when Jinx showed up, but after some awkward-as-hell apologies that Jinx's therapist had helped her script, plus a less-scripted confession that "life had been a bitch since she'd got fucked sideways by her own dumb brain and she wished she hadn't kicked all her goddamn friendships into hell," Ekko had hesitantly agreed to try and work with her.

Their artistic chemistry had been incredible, and after Downriver came out, they'd been hit with offers from several studios to collaborate on more work. As much as Jinx enjoyed creative freedom, it felt good to have a friend to work beside.

“… Obviously, we can’t put a whole river in this warehouse, but I’m thinking we should imitate the dockside in Downriver,” Ekko continued, starting to scrawl some notes onto a blank sheet. “Weathered wood walls, rusty railing, some boxes and barrels. We can spice it up by carving pictures into the wood, maybe nailing up some old ripped posters…”

“And we’ll need fog machines!” Jinx chimed in eagerly, bouncing in her seat. “Gotta have fog to get the river’s vibe!”

“Yeah, that’d be a good touch.” Ekko titled his scrap paper SET #1 - DOCKS.

Glancing at each of the room’s corners in turn, Jinx suggested, “If they want street art, we’ve gotta have a graffiti corner. Brickwork and neon paint.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “We might even wanna have two graffiti corners. One Zaun-style, one Demacia-style.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow. “Does Demacia have graffiti? Every street I've seen has been spotless, even the alleys.”

“Then we’ll show ‘em what Demacia-style grafitti ought to look like!” Jinx gestured to the stone walls. “Instead of puttin’ up false brick walls, we’ll leave the stone exposed, since they use the same gray rock in all the buildings around here. We can focus on murals instead of words, paint stuff like their native trees and mountains and shit. Maybe the sun and moon? Didn’t the director say one of the video’s big themes would be light and darkness?”

“She did. Speaking of which, I think we’ll want sheer lighting for all four corners, bright spotlights, tall props to cast interesting shadows…” Trailing off, Ekko frowned, glancing at one of the walls.

Jinx followed Ekko’s gaze to the featureless wall, wondering if he’d spotted something she wasn't seeing. Then, she picked up a sound that she’d missed from being so tuned-in to set design.

Some people outside the warehouse were having a loud argument.

“… need you to stop being…”

“… not immature, I’ve been trying to tell you…”

“… can’t fathom what you think you’re accomplishing by…”

“… living my own life, Garen! I can’t…”

“… your family, your country, your own image, and if you can’t see how…”

“… how everything our family wants is right, and everything I want is foolish?”

Jinx and Ekko exchanged a glance. “Yikes,” Jinx said.

Ekko sighed. “One of those voices sounds a lot like the client.”

“Then make that a double yikes,” Jinx amended, staring after the unseen voices as they stomped closer to the warehouse’s back door.

Rather than approaching from the babbling street, the quarrelers were coming from a private alley behind the building. The back door swung open with an agonized squeal and banged against the wall. A man and woman entered the room, alike enough in the set of their angry faces that Jinx guessed they were related - siblings, her gut insisted, recalling her turbulent relationship with her own sister.

The man was broad-shouldered and imposing, sporting a heavy scowl like a soldier confronted with an enemy. The woman was taller than Jinx, but still not up to her brother's looming height. Nevertheless, she wasn't cowed by her brother’s displeasure, keeping her own brow furrowed and her hands closed tightly at her sides.

“All my life,” the woman seethed, not seeming to notice that Jinx and Ekko were present, “I’ve been the perfect doll of a good Demacian that you and the others have wanted me to be. I’ve put up the act, put on the show! I feel like I’ve been wearing a mask ever since I was ten!”

The woman might not have noticed her company, but the man did, his eyes going wide as he spotted them. “Luxanna…”

“Don’t cut me off!” The woman’s red-hot glare remained trained on the man. “I never had a choice in what the family made of me! No one asked me if I wanted to be on a stage...”

“Luxanna…”

“… but if I have to keep doing this, then for once in my life, I’m going to do it my way!”

“Luxanna, we are no longer in private!” the man hissed.

This statement halted the woman’s rant. She stood still for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the man and her breathing heavy, before slowly turning to face Jinx and Lux.

Well, fuck, Jinx thought to herself. I guess we’re working with an angry, shout-y client for this gig.

However, to Jinx's pleasant surprise, the woman's glower disappeared. In the blink of an eye, she'd fronted a placid smile which made her look as if she’d never been mad a day in her life. Hell, she looked like the happiest person in Runeterra! She spoke with a pleasant, sunshine-y voice which seemed at odds with the temper she’d sported seconds before. “You’re here – good! Garen, these are the set designers I hired to work on my new music video. Jinx, Ekko, welcome to Demacia!”

“Um…” Jinx was caught off guard by the woman's sudden warmth, but she recovered quickly. “Thanks! I'm lookin' forward to painting a splash of Zaun on your shiny city!”

Beside her, Ekko was having some trouble reacting. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape as he stared at the new arrivals.

At the door, the man let out a heavy sigh. “I apologize,” he said slowly, wielding a more demanding edge to his tone than his sister. “I’m afraid the music video you’ve been hired for has been canceled.”

“It has not been canceled,” The woman corrected immediately, still chipper-toned and smiling.

The man closed his eyes, lips twitching as if he were counting out a long breath. “I’ll make sure you’re compensated for your travel, as well as any time you’ve spent planning…”

“I’ve already paid them in full up-front,” the woman told him cheerfully.

“… and I hope you can remain professional and not spread word of this canceled operation,” the man stated through gritted teeth.

“I look forward to seeing your work!” the woman’s smile stretched ever wider.

Jinx felt tempted to laugh. While it sucked to find out that her latest project was in jeopardy, she couldn’t help but find the blithe way this blonde chick contradicted her brother amusing. Jinx respected a gal who could one-up her sibling with a smile.

Since Ekko still looked too shell-shocked to provide input, Jinx cleared her throat. "Well, seein' as how I've already been paid, I think I'd better keep doing the thing I was paid for." She aimed a playful salute at the woman. "You've got the reins, boss!"

The man shot Jinx a look that was cold and... surprised? It made complete sense that Jinx would side with the woman who'd paid her, didn’t it?

Then again, behind her fronted smile, Jinx thought she saw a flicker of surprise on her client's face, too. Maybe the woman was used to her big brother winning their arguments.

Raising a hand, the man pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked every bit like he was about to wage war against a headache. “I would appreciate,” he ground out, “if the pair of you would leave so that I can speak to my sister in private.”

“We can speak in the alley,” The woman told her brother. “This is their workspace.”

“You can’t possibly think I’ll let you continue this project now that I’ve found out about it.”

Jinx didn't miss the spark which passed through the woman’s placid eyes. It was subtle. Jinx had a feeling that the woman was well-practiced at hiding negative emotions, but Jinx had a keen sense for hidden rage, and she felt the woman's ire like an itch under her skin.

“You can’t possibly think I’ll let you stop me,” the woman said smoothly, maintaining her bright tone even as her words betrayed her defiance. Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she turned and walked back to the gaping door. As she passed through, her gaze flicked back - Jinx swore it landed on her for a fraction of a second. Something about the woman's parting grin made the phantom itchiness in Jinx's skin multiply, a feeling that lingered even after the woman slipped into the street and out of sight.

The man stayed put for a few seconds. Jinx thought she saw a vein pop out in his jaw as he ground his teeth. Then, with hardly a parting glance at Jinx and Ekko, he stormed out after his sister.

“We don’t do refunds!” Jinx belted as the door slammed shut.

All was quiet for several seconds, save for the unperturbed chatter from the street in front of the warehouse. Jinx rubbed a calloused palm over her arm, soothing the last dregs of her strange itch away. “Well,” She stated once enough hushed, thoughtful moments had passed, “That was weird.”

Ekko blinked. “Damn,” he said. “I’d heard a rumor about tensions in the Crownguard family, but… Wow.”

“The who?” Jinx stared at him quizzically. “Are those two from some famous family I’ve never heard of?”

Incredulous, Ekko raised both eyebrows at her. “The Crownguards,” he emphasized. “One of the most influential families in Demacia? You haven’t heard of them?”

Jinx shrugged. “This is my first time traveling further than Piltover. Never needed to know shit about Demacia.”

“Still,” he pressed, “You’ve at least heard of Luxanna, right?”

“Nope.” Tipping her head aside, Jinx asked, “Is she a big deal or something?”

. . .

 

Over the next several days, Jinx read up on her client and learned several things about Luxanna, including the fact that she was, in fact, a big deal.

Luxanna was Demacia’s Seraphine – maybe even bigger than Seraphine, considering the near-royal status her family held. The Crownguards mainly concerned themselves with politics, but had dabbled in other venues of bolstering their family image, like sculpting their bright-eyed, ever-smiling daughter into a popstar. Luxanna’s parents had first put her on a stage when she was ten, and she’d been Demacia’s radiant idol ever since.

Jinx learned that, although she wasn’t a politician, Luxanna presented her family’s ideals at the core of her brand. She was a symbol of Demacian pride and tradition. Many of her songs focused on themes of Demacia’s beauty, valor on the battlefield, and living with honor.

The music videos for Luxanna’s songs were recorded at national landmarks and sets strewn with symbolism of Demacia’s righteousness. They were always well-lit, complimenting the popstar’s sunny smile and bright, cheerful voice.

Oddly enough, her typical style of was the exact opposite of the grungy, shadow-strewn vision she’d expressed in her instructions to Jinx and Ekko. Considering how edgy Luxanna wanted this set to be, Jinx wondered if the lifelong star was preparing to enter her inevitable rebellious phase.

There were signs: The fight with her brother, the tense looks on the faces of her staff, and the tabloid rumors of family drama that Ekko kept telling Jinx about. Luxanna might be good at pasting on a smile, but Jinx could feel in her bones that Little-Miss-Sunshine was bottling up some serious frustration.

Jinx kinda pitied her. She’d heard enough stories about former-child-stars to know that fame never ended well for them. All that pressure to perform, so much exposure when their brains were still young and spongy… That had to mess a mind up! It was a miracle that Luxanna had held herself together into her twenties instead of spinning out of control back when she was a teen.

Luxanna could smile all she wanted, but Jinx had a feeling that the star's mental breakdown era was long overdue.

 

. . .

 

As days of concept design rolled on, Jinx learned something about the pitiable popstar that wasn’t mentioned in any of the tabloids.

Luxanna was a starer.

“Hey, Ekko… Have you noticed Little-Miss-Sunshine looking at us for… I dunno… A weirdly long time?”

Ekko adjusted the position of a wall of faux, foam brick without looking up. “We've talked about your habit of nicknaming our clients," he said.

Jinx rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Not professional. I'll only call her Little-Miss-Sunshine when she and her lackeys are on the other side of the room. But..."

"Remember how Seraphine's agent tried to punch you when you called her client Pinkie Pie?"

"I know, I know!"Jinx huffed an exasperated breath. "Anyway, back to my question. Weirdly attentive staring from the boss lady."

Ekko shrugged. "We’re building a set for her," he justified, unconcerned. "Of course she’s gonna watch. If her entourage would leave her alone for two seconds, she might even come over and tell us what she thinks of our work.”

Jinx shifted her weight, tapping a paint canister against her hip. “Yeah, but... I mean… I feel like she’s not looking at the set.”

Flicking her sights to the far corner of the room, Jinx saw the popstar seated in a folding chair next to the in-progress dock setup, propping an arm on one knee as she scrolled through something on her phone. A handful of agents and body guards were clustered around her, many of them chattering, trying to get her attention. Luxanna acknowledged them with eager nods and bright smiles, but her eyes...

... Jinx could swear she saw Luxanna's eyes slide sideways right when Jinx glanced over, as if she’d been watching Jinx and had only just looked away. A prickle ran over Jinx’s skin, and she scratched her arm with her free hand. “Do you ever feel like… y’know… her eyes are on you?” Jinx suggested. “Like she’s watching you, specifically?”

At this statement, Ekko gave Jinx a long, hard look. There was something cautious in the set of his eyes that made Jinx instantly feel uncomfortable. “Jinx,” he said in a carefully even tone, “don’t take this the wrong way, but… You’re still taking your meds, right? You didn’t leave them behind in Zaun?”

A flash of hurt rushed through Jinx. “Of course I’m taking them!” she snipped. “C’mon, you remember what I was like before I started ‘em! I’m not like that now! Do I look like I’m like that now?”

“Okay, okay!” Ekko held up a hand in a gesture for peace. “I just remember you saying that you used to feel like things were watching you before you started the pills. Do you think your body might be adjusting to the dosage? That you might need something stronger?”

“This isn’t about my stupid meds, or my brain,” Jinx groused. Then, after a moment’s though, she begrudgingly amended, “I mean, I don’t think it is.” She frowned, glancing at Luxanna again. Seriously, she’d just been looking at Jinx! “Just… Just tell me if you notice her staring in a weird way, okay? And I’ll tell you if I feel like my brain’s going rotten.”

“Sure,” Ekko acquiesced. After a moment, he added, “Hey… I hope it didn’t sound like I was doubting you or anything. I’ll take it seriously if you feel like something weird is going on, okay? I promise. You can talk to me about this shit.”

“Yeah.” Jinx shook her can of spray paint in one hand, then stuck her sights resolutely to the faux-brick wall, resolving not to spend the whole afternoon glancing back at the popstar. “Thanks. I appreciate you having my back.”

There was an itch on her back, beneath her skin where she couldn't reach. 

Get over yourself. A popstar’s got more important shit to do than stare at you.

. . .

 

That evening, Jinx stayed late at the warehouse. She was really getting into their Demacia-style street art concept and hadn’t wanted to stop painting when night fell. After splitting a dinner of takeout with her, Ekko had called it quits, telling Jinx to give him a call if anything odd happened while he was gone.

Jinx wasn’t worried about weird shit happening. At this late hour, Luxanna and her swarm of staff had long since cleared out, leaving Jinx with the space all to herself.

Jinx hummed a tune as she sprayed a few lines of black paint onto the warehouse’s stonework. The murals were starting to look good! Since Demacian streets weren’t as neon as Zaun, Jinx had decided to keep the murals monochromatic. She was even thinking she should suggest recording the music video in black-and-white to draw more attention to the light-and-shadow theme of the set.

Of course, it would be easier to plan ahead if their client would tell them what her damn song was about... But, hey, Luxanna Crownguard could stay as secretive as she liked as long as Jinx got to keep her paycheck.

As she finished painting the lower trunks of silhouetted trees, Jinx frowned, peering further up the wall. She was eager to get started on the trees' higher reaches, but Ekko had asked her not to break out the ladder unless someone was around to spot her. That was a sensible request – it would be a pity if Jinx fell off and bludgeoned her brains out against the floor without anyone around to call an ambulance – but, damn, she was dying to paint those upper walls!

A few unsupervised minutes on a ladder wouldn’t hurt, right?

Sorry, Little Man. I swear I’ll try not to fall and crack my skull!

Jinx retrieved a rust-splotched metal ladder from where it rested on the floor, quickly setting it up next to her painted trees. Climbing swiftly, she licked her lips and grinned at her stone canvas. Shaking her black canister in one hand, Jinx aimed for the top of one of her in-progress tree-trunks and…

CREEEEEEAK!

Jinx jumped. When the ladder trembled at her movement, Jinx dropped her paint, clutching the sides of the ladder with blanched knuckles. The canister clanked several times as it bounced against the ground beneath her.

“Oh," a surprised voice said from the warehouse’s squeaky back door. “I didn’t think anyone would still be here! Sorry for startling you.”

Jinx’s breaths were heavy and her shoulders were stiff. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she turned to find Luxanna Crownguard, looking as full of sunshine-and-rainbows as ever, watching her from the door.

… Why was the popstar alone?

Lux stepped further into the room, her head tilting curiously. “You really shouldn’t be on a ladder without someone spotting you,” she scolded gently, smile still unabated. “Do you want me to hold the base of your ladder steady?”

For someone who hadn't spoken to Jinx since her words of welcome on day one, Lux's behavior struck Jinx as over-familiar. Maybe that was her drilled-in popstar persona shining through, forcing her to be amicable even in the company of near-strangers. 

Friendly or not, Jinx barely knew the chick. 

"Nah," Jinx drawled, forcing the stiffness out of her tense muscles as she began climbing down the ladder. "I was about to wrap it up for the night. My co-designer's gonna call any minute to check if I made it back to the hotel." As she reached the floor, Jinx quirked an eyebrow at the popstar. "Speaking of nosy coworkers, what are you doing out and about without your entourage? I thought famous types couldn't hit the town without a minder or two."

There it was again, a spark of ire behind Luxanna's eyes, there and gone in an instant. "I think more clearly without them around," she explained in a slow, careful tone, as if she were choosing her words very mindfully. "Of course, I care about everyone on my crew, but... I've barely been able to think about this set while they've been with me. There are other matters they'd prefer me to give attention to than this."

Something clicked in Jinx's brain. Smirking, she leaned casually against her ladder, folding her arms smugly over her chest. "Ah, I see. Big brother's set the staff on a mission to distract you from your passion project, hasn't he?"

Luxanna's eyes betrayed her frustration once more. Maybe she knew she had a tell; she flicked her gaze away, staring at the spray painted tree trunks rather than holding Jinx's gaze. A telling touch of pink stained her cheeks, although her smile remained plastered on.

"My brother... He likes to choose which projects I should prioritize. He truly means well, even if he can be... stifling, at times."

It felt easier to be around the star now that her eerie staring had been replaced with flushed cheeks and averted eyes. Feeling more grounded, Jinx could afford to let pity bloom for the born-and-raised popstar. Considering what Jinx had seen so far of her stuffy company, it was no wonder that Luxanna had wanted to slip away. "Hey," Jinx said, trying to make her voice more kind than its usual brashness. "I get it. You're not the first star I've worked with, so I've seen how crowded the pop-life can get. Just let me pack up my gear and I'll be outta your hair; you can have some space to think about your video."

Before Jinx could stoop to collect her paint canister from the ground, Luxanna's hand darted forward, snagging her wrist tightly. 

Some of the tension returned to Jinx's shoulders. She blinked at Luxanna, waiting for an explanation. 

"I..." Luxanna bit her lip. "I was actually hoping, since you're still here, that we could talk about the set. It'll be easier without my family's staff around to distract me." Awkwardly, she peeled her fingers off Jinx’s wrist and drew her hand back, leaving a slight tackiness from her warm palms on Jinx’s skin. "I mean... Only if this is a good time for you. I know it's getting late."

Well, Ekko would be happy if at least one of them had the chance to collect feedback from their client. "Sure. Yeah!" Stepping to her duffel, Jinx added, "Hold on a sec. Ekko put a notepad in here somewhere with some questions he'd been hoping to ask about the theme..."

 

. . .

 

Over the next half-hour, Jinx became increasingly comfortable around Luxanna - or, just Lux, please, as the star insisted. Jinx was happy to find that, despite her family's status and money, Lux wasn't vain or condescending. Maybe it was just her popstar persona, but Lux was cheerful and attentive as Jinx led her around the room and explained what she and Ekko were going for with each collection of props. Although Lux’s stare had felt unnerving earlier that day, its unwavering focus now made Jinx feel as if she were being genuinely listened to, like she’d become Lux’s top priority now that the two of them could finally get to talking.

Judging by her appreciative touches to the props, interested questions, and unwavering smile, it seemed that Lux was excited to hear Jinx's ideas for the set. Jinx could feel her confidence growing as she explained her creative choices to her rapt audience. Jinx loved talking about her craft, and she was thrilled that her client wasn't the type to nitpick and complain. 

However, as much as Jinx loved touting her own ideas, she did need some input. 

“So.” Pausing by the dock setup, Jinx leaned back against a low stretch of railing she and Ekko had attached to the wall on one side. It creaked slightly under her weight, but ultimately held her steady. Tipping her head, Jinx continued, “What do you think? Do any of the setups fit the look you want for your video?”

Lux cast another appraising glance over the room. Jinx watched her shining eyes travel, quirking a smile at the way Lux’s hair fluttered while she spun to take the whole warehouse in.

No wonder she’s got so many fans, Jinx thought to herself. This chick’s cute as hell – just starin’ at stuff makes her look good!

Lux’s gaze returned to the faux-dock setup where they currently stood. Her eyes trailed up and down an aged wood wall with a sun, moon, and stars carved into the planks, and her lip slipped between her teeth.

Ever so slightly, Lux’s smile shrunk.

An unexpected pang of anxiety swooped through Jinx’s chest. Why had Lux’s smile gotten smaller? She’d looked happy while Jinx was taking her through the sets, but now… Was it not quite right? Was Lux disappointed? “If you’re not feeling any of this, we can spitball some more ideas,” Jinx said quickly. “I’m full of ideas, loaded with ‘em! Just tell me what’s sorta-working and what’s not-fucking-working-at-all, and I’ll build from there!”

Jinx must’ve let some desperation slip into her tone. Eyes widening, Lux was swift to reassure her. “Oh! Jinx, the sets are wonderful, really, I love them! Especially the corner we started at, the one with the Demacian street art concept. I can tell that you and Ekko put so much thought into these ideas!”

The tension in Jinx’s chest warred with tentative hope from Lux’s praise. Okay, but… “You were starting to look kinda bummed out a moment ago,” Jinx pointed out. “I’m glad you like the sets, but if something doesn’t feel right, if there’s anything you wanna mess with, I’m all ears. I can take critique. You don’t have to be little-miss-sunshine with me.”

A flush reddened Lux’s ears as she stared at Jinx, wordless.

… oh, FUCK. I’m not supposed to call the client little-miss-sunshine to her face!

Jinx had been getting too comfortable. Scratching sheepishly at the back of her neck, she hastily pressed on, “so, uh, let’s talk about the song this music video’s gonna be for! What’s it about, anyway? I mean, I know the theme is darkness and light, but details on the lyrics have been pretty… uh… nonexistent. Care to spill?”

Jinx’s hopes of restoring their conversation to its previous happy state were dashed when Lux’s smile drooped further.

After all the smiling Lux had done that day, it felt wrong to see cracks forming in her happy facade. It was like Jinx had peered behind a shower curtain and caught sight of something private and forbidden.

"I mean... You don't have to share the lyrics of the song," Jinx attempted to amend, "just... A bit more about the feel of it would be good to know."

When Lux’s smile dropped entirely, tired shadows congealing around her eyes, it felt less like Jinx had peeked around a shower curtain and more like she'd tripped into it, knocking the curtains down entirely and falling into someone’s vulnerable lap.

Lux’s eyes fell, fixing on the base of the wooden prop-wall. “Jinx… Would you mind if I told you something that you might find disappointing?”

“Uh…” Disappointing? Why would Jinx be disappointed? Lux was the one who’d shelled out a massive pre-payment. Lux was the one who should be disappointed if Jinx under-performed. “… Sure. Lay it on me.”

Turning, Lux leaned against the rail beside Jinx. It creaked a little more under her weight than it had under just Jinx’s, but remained standing and reasonably steady. “There…” Lux took a breath. “There’s no song yet. There might never be one. This music video probably won’t happen.”

Huh? “There’s no song?” Honestly, Jinx was more confused than disappointed. “You started prepping for a music video and put down a big-ass payment for set design before you even knew what the video was gonna be for?”

“I know what it’s for,” Lux responded, frustration straining her tone. Her emotions were more tangible now that her smile had dropped, itching under Jinx's skin and squirming in her gut. “I just… Don’t have the words yet. I’d hoped that, if someone could visualize what I was going for, it’d be easier to make the words come.” A small, bitter laugh slipped from her. “I did write songs – about ten of them. But none of them felt right. They felt like… Like…”

Jinx scooted a bit closer. Aware that she was starting to behave over-familiar herself - Lux's openness must've been getting to her head - she knocked her elbow against Lux’s, feeling a tingle where their warms skin brushed. “Like?”

Lux’s nose scrunched in a way that made her look bitter. “Like they were written by someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“… Okay.” Jinx pondered this for a second. "I think that opens the door to a pretty obvious question. What are you doing?”

Lux raised a hand, toying with a lock of hair draped over her shoulder. “I’m trying to see what I could create if I didn’t let my family pick all my projects for me. Something they might not approve of, a bit dark, a bit ominous. But… I’m not very good at being anything but the smiling star they've made me to be.”

Jinx recalled Ekko telling her about how closely Lux’s songs aligned with her family’s politics. “You’ve never gotten to make many creative choices for yourself, have you?” she deduced. 

Lux scoffed. “Never. The few times I’ve tried reaching for a bit of independence, someone's put a hard stop to it.” The corner of her lip curled, sneer-like, as she added darkly, “You saw me arguing with my brother over this project. Later that night, he spoke to my parents. The next morning, I didn’t have access to my own bank account. I guess they don’t want me pre-paying a video crew like I pre-paid you and Ekko.”

Both of Jinx’s eyebrows shot up. “What the hell? They did shit to your money? Isn’t that fucking illegal!?”

Lux snorted. “Very little is illegal for my family,” she said drily, “especially when they’re committing crime for the good of Demacia. Don’t worry; they can’t cancel the payment I made for your work. Even my parents can’t make money disappear from an account in another nation’s bank.”

“Well, holy fuck.” Jinx let out a low whistle. “I mean, good for me. Thanks for the money and all. But this massively sucks for you.”

“It really does.”

The warehouse lights flickered overhead as Jinx mulled over her thoughts in a minute of uncomfortable silence. She’d known that shit couldn’t be going well for someone who’s family had been calling the shots ever since they’d been ten, but… Wow.

“Jinx…”

Jinx pulled herself from her thoughts, meeting Lux’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“If I went through with this video however I could, without access to funding... If I shot it off a cell-phone camera while singing about not being little-miss-sunshine, as you put it… Do you think the world would be happy for me getting to try something new? Or would people just say I'm going through a phase?”

Jinx winced. “… The world can be pretty judgy," she admitted. "And it seems like a lot of your fanbase are your parent’s kinda people.”

Lux sighed. Her head slumped heavily down, bringing her lower than Jinx despite her greater height. “So I’m doomed to either be my parent’s shining star, or do what I want for once while everyone who knows my name shakes their heads.” She pressed a hand against her temple. “I don't even know what I want to do with this video, or with my career, or with my whole life. How can I do what I want when I don’t even know what I want?”

Incidentally, Jinx had spoken enough with her therapist about lacking direction and watching her life go up in flames that she actually had some tips to give. “Your brain will spin out if you treat what you want like some big, existential question," she said. "Don’t worry about figuring out the big picture all at once. Just pick a few little things you want and start small.”

“Little things, huh?”

“Yeah. Make a list!" Pushing herself off the railing, Jinx splayed her hands with a shrug. "What do you want, Sunshine?" 

Jinx’s tease brought a small quirk of a smile back to Lux’s mouth. “I want my bank account back, for starters," she huffed. "It's been humiliating to have to ask my brother to buy lunch for me.”

Jinx nodded in approval. “Solid start! What else do you want?”

“Hmm..." Lux tipped her head, thinking a bit longer this time. "I want my next music video to not be about national pride."

"You've made more than enough of those for sure." Jinx found herself walking to a wooden barrel, hopping to a seat atop it. "Now do a fun one! What's something fun you want?"

Lux's eyes glimmered. “I want... to travel." She brushed a hand appreciatively over several set pieces as she stepped closer to Jinx's seat. "To know what places outside of Demacia are like. To know how people outside of Demacia think.” Her gaze trailed from the set pieces to Jinx. "Is Zaun a very tourist-friendly place?"

Jinx snorted. "Nope. If you went to my hometown lookin' all wealthy and trusting, the pickpockets would line up for miles."

"Well, if I had a choice between losing some pocket change on the street or having my bank account frozen by my own family, I'd take the former."

"Fair point."

A shadow crossed Lux's face. "At least, if I were anywhere but here, I'd have some agency in what became of me. As long as I'm in Demacia, I'm my family's pawn, nothing more." She shook her head. "I love them, but... I resent them sometimes, too..." Her voice dropped off. Shooting Jinx a sideways look, she said slowly, "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. You'd get paid well for selling a transcript of this rant to the tabloids."

Jinx shrugged. "You're telling me this 'cause you want to. Don't overthink it."

Lux's gaze stayed steady on Jinx. 

A slight itch tingled in Jinx's spine. 

"... I want to feel the way you look like you feel when you're building a set," Lux said softly. "You look good. Free and happy, I mean. Like you know what you want to create, and you have the power to make it happen."

"Heh." Jinx scratched the back of her neck. "I thought I felt you watching me."

"I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Well, she had kinda set Jinx's nerves tingling, but Jinx wasn't about to bitch about it. "Don't worry about it. It takes more than a funny stare to send me out of whack."

"Good." Lux leaned against a barrel next to the one Jinx sat on. "I wish I could create my own life the way that you create your sets. I feel so powerless sometimes." Her hands curled into fists. "And I'm really sick of feeling powerless."

Jinx shivered at the bite in Lux's tone. 

She knew a thing or two about feeling powerless. Jinx remembered being overwhelmed by the voices in her head that told her that her insides were going rotten, that all she'd ever do was break and hurt. She remembered how it had driven her mad, making her want to lash out. 

Had Lux ever wanted to lash out?

"Y'know," Jinx murmured, "My shrink once told me that, when people feel like life's going out control, people find ways to claw that sense of control back to them. Sometimes we do bad shit to make us feel in control." She quirked a brown at Lux. "You seem like you're a lot better at keepin' your issues bottled up than me. But the bottle never stays closed. Either ya choose when to open it, or it breaks and cuts you up." At Lux's odd look, she clarified, "I'm sayin' that you gotta find things in your life you can control in a healthy-ish way. Like this music-video!" She gestured to the set. "It's yours! So what if it turns out terrible and nobody likes it? If it lets you feel like you're in the driver's seat of your own life, stick with it."

"Yeah..." Lux stepped a little closer. "By the way, I've been meaning to tell you that I'm grateful to you for sticking with me. With this project, I mean. When my brother said that the video was canceled, and you said you'd keep working on the set anyway... It felt good to have someone in my side for once."

"You're the one who paid me," Jinx said with a shrug. "You brought me here to make some fuckin' art, so that's what I'm gonna do! You're the client, not your brother. You're the one in control."

"... It feels good to hear someone say that."

"I bet it does." Jinx sighed. "Seriously... To think of how much you're family's starved you of control your whole life, you must really be itchin' for it. I'm in your corner, Sunshine." She smirked. "Now, all you gotta do is figure out what you want with this set and take control of it for real. Don't be shy about telling me what you want. You're the boss!"

Lux beamed at her. This new smile felt somehow more real than the ones she'd worn before. At the thought that she'd genuinely made Lux feel good, a giddy feeling swooped through Jinx’s gut. 

Funny. Jinx didn't usually care this much about how her clients felt, beyond making sure that they still wanted to pay her, but Jinx wanted to please Lux. Something about Lux just made her feel so...

Lux leaned forward, shared her arms around Jinx’s shoulders, and hugged her tightly. 

Jinx was startled. She went limp as her chest was pulled against Lux's, strong arms coiling around her back - fuck, did this chick work out? A chin nestled cozily over her shoulder, and a warm voice murmured in her ear.

"Thank you. For encouraging me to take control. I'll make an effort to tell you what I want... I think we'll work very well together."

"Uh..." Jinx's heart thudded. Her brain suddenly wasn't working with its usual finesse. "Yeah. Uh. No problem."

Lux gave her a bracing squeeze, then let go. As she stepped back to smile at Jinx, Jinx could still feel lingering tingles from her touch. "It's late. I'm sorry for keeping you out so long, but I'm glad you stuck around. You've been working so hard for me... I feel like I can trust you to give me your all."

Why did Lux's praise leave Jinx's gut feeling weirdly warm? 

"Anyway, I'll leave you to pack up your things." Lux stepped away, making for the back door. Unconsciously, Jinx let her eyes trail after Lux's back, noting how her hair fluttered with each step. When she reached the door, Lux flung one last parting grin at Jinx. "Make sure you rest well tonight. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

"... Right. Yeah."

And with that, Lux was gone. 

Jinx sat still on her barrel for a full minute before raising a hand to touch her shoulder, where Lux had rested her chin during their hug. Jinx thought her skin felt weirdly warm. 

"You've been working so hard for me..."

Jinx shook her head, trying to clear it. 

"Thank you. For encouraging me to take control..."

Heat rose in Jinx's cheeks. 

"I feel like I can trust you to give me your all."

Lux's arms had been strong when they'd wrapped around her. Her voice has been smooth. Her stare made Jinx shiver...

... And Jinx really, really, wanted to do a good job for her. 

"Aw, fuck," Jinx whispered under her breath. 

She couldn't get Lux's smile out of her head.

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

🦚

a sexy quote (because this is for you + because this is Christian x Satine, you get more angsty smut haha. dropping this one under a cut since it's definitely e-rated):

She grabs onto him, desperate for the familiar warmth and weight of him. There are tears in her eyes because it’s so much—almost too much—and he just keeps staring at her like she’s something holy, like she’s something good. She doesn’t deserve it and yet she can’t make herself look away, pinned beneath the weight of his stare. She’s taking these big, gulping breaths like there’s not enough air in the room and Christian just keeps carefully rocking his fist inside her and it burns, a little, aching deliciously in a way Satine can’t help but like. Because it’s him. It’s Christian, and it’s her, and it’s them, and he’s looking at her like she’s done something incredible instead of just taking part of him inside her cunt. And it’s like—why is he still looking at her like that? Doesn’t he know that this isn't special? That this is all she’s good for, is all she's ever been good for? Satine isn't used to this. She's used to being nothing more than a body in a lace corset, to molding herself into the shape of someone who exists solely to satisfy paying customers, to burying her own wants and needs so deep inside herself that she's forgotten she once had them. She's used to men appraising her, trying to decide if she's worth the meager fees Zidler makes them pay for her. She's used to men who pinch too hard, who pull her hair until her eyes water, who pin her to the mattress and mark her throat with their teeth and take, and take, and take all these tiny pieces of her until there's nothing left. She isn't used to the way Christian looks at her, but she knows it's dangerous. Because Christian might just fool her into believing she's worth more than all this.

[fatehbaz]

Traditional scholarship in the history of science associates the quantifiable, universal human body with the European Enlightenment or ‘new science’. This measurable, universal body, it is argued, came to define modern medicine. Behind it lay the driving forces of political economy, [...] life insurance, and modern industrial [profit] [...]. But this widely accepted history of the universalisation and systemisation of human corporeality [...] [involves] an earlier global history of enslaving and measuring bodies in the Indies, born of the Iberian slave trade between Africa and colonial Iberian America. It was in the violent and profitable world of this slave trade that universal concepts and calculations of health risks, disease and bodily characteristics [...] emerged. Indeed, the scale of data production about bodies in the early modern world of Iberian slave trading far outpaced all contemporary systems of production of knowledge about the human body.

The key concept in this early modern quantification of the body was the pieza de Indias (Spanish) or peça da India (Portuguese). [...]

The appearance of this new measure and epistemology was intimately linked to the unprecedented rise in the size and complexity of the transatlantic commerce in human bodies during the first decades of the 17th century. The new, universal measure of man was the result of the slave trade’s need to quantify the risks of investing in human corporeality and its modern afflictions. By the late 16th century, Iberian slave traders, governments, corporations and financiers from around Europe (particularly from Genoa, Florence and the Netherlands) were already thinking of the transportation of slave bodies as units of risk.

---

The original licences for slaves transacted in Iberia were contractual concepts that did not refer to bodily characteristics [...] [and] were of limited help [...] for calculating the productivity [of a slave's body] [...]. Consequently, slave traders and slave-trading organisations, including the House of Trade (Casa de Contratación) in Seville, developed methodologies that allowed them to translate slave bodies into numbers and calculate the inherent value [...] as it related to an increasingly normalised, constant unit called the pieza. The concept of the pieza (the piece) allowed for the creation of contracts where investors, providers and the state could prospectively calculate tariff, gains and risk using quantifiable notions of bodies [...].

The historical record makes clear that the concept of ‘the piece of the Indies’ itself was already firmly established across the Atlantic basin by the early 1600s. [...] In addition to peça, Portuguese slave traders [in West Africa] used several other terms to refer to slaves who were not adult [...], reflecting an increasingly rich taxonomy [...]. Muleque or muleca [...]. Slave traders began using these terms to refer to young bodies that they discounted at rates [...]. Calculating the value of cañengues, muleques and mulecas by converting them into standard adult [...] piezas was a common practice [...]. Portuguese officials in Sao Paulo da Assumpcao de Loanda deployed the concept when they tallied ‘the dispatch’, or fees due to the Portuguese crown, for the embarkment of African slaves bound for the Americas. Such methods to appraise slave bodies became normative in Spanish America for determining the tariffs that traders had to pay to introduce slaves in the New World.

By the late 1530s, crown officials were counting the ‘pieces of slaves’ (piezas de esclavos) disembarking in Santo Domingo and selling them to miners [...] [and] hacienda owners [...] to work in the mines and estates of the island. [...] [A] concept of an ideal body for transportation and labour [...] had emerged across the Atlantic, and during the first decades of the 17th century it was disseminated across the Pacific and Indian Oceans, being widely used in Dutch trading records. [...] [S]lave traders and government officials used the term pieza to talk about other captive bodies from the Indies, most notably native or 'Indian' bodies in the Caribbean.

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The concept of the piece of the Indies appears in full form in the 1660s as part of negotiations of the terms of the asiento de negros or slave monopoly between the Spanish crown and the Genoese financiers Domingo Grillo and Ambrosio Lomelín. The contract with the Grillos established that they would ‘bring 24,500 blacks, piezas de Indias, over the course of seven years and starting in 1662’. The monopoly established as one of its conditions that ‘the said quantity of blacks should be piezas de Indias, each one seven cuartas of height and up’. [...] Slave traders used height as a proxy for life histories of health and nutrition and as a predictor of the slave’s potential productivity [...] [and] created a complex system around the marker of height [...].

[H]aving grey hair, for instance, translated into a reduction in value of one cuarta or one-seventh of the standard pieza. The conditions of 'cloud in one eye [cataracts]' signified a reduction of two cuartas; scurvy, two cuartas; phlegm, one and one-half cuartas; a 'benign hernia', one cuarta [...]. Being older than 35 years merited a one-cuarta deduction [...]. The presence of lobanillos (small tumours) was worth one and one-half cuartas’ reduction; small fingers, one-half cuarta; incapacitating scars (burns), one and one-half cuarta; [...] localised ulcers, one-sixth of a cuarta; generalised ulcers, one cuarta; [...] short-sightednesss, two cuartas; [...] missing molars, one cuarta [...].

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The contractual articulation of the concept of the piece of the Indies [...] formalised slave-based knowledge production about human bodies. The contract assembled a vast storehouse of knowledge, much of it held in the House of Trade in Seville, obtained from thousands of records of bodily characteristics and diseases for hundreds of thousands of bodies [...]. The Grillos’ contract set a precedent for the 1679 contract between Spanish and Portuguese merchants and the Dutch West India Company. The 1696 asiento between Spanish crown and [financier F.M.] and [financier N/P.], for example, agreed they would transport 10,000 tonnes of freight including 30,000 piezas de Indias of the ‘regular measure of seven cuartas’. Similarly, a 1709 contract between the French Compagnie de Guinée and Dutch slave traders, settled in Amsterdam, specified that the French would pay 110 pièces de huit (pieces of eight) ‘for each black piece of Indies’ delivered in the Caribbean.

As the ‘new science’ of the European Enlightenment dawned in Europe, the piece of the Indies was well established as the most disseminated universal measure of the human body.

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All text above by: Pablo F. Gomez. "Pieza de Indias: Slave Trade and the Quantification of Human Bodies". A chapter in New World Objects of Knowledge: A Cabinet of Curiosities (edited by Mark Thurner and Juan Pimentel), pp. 47-50. Published 2021. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[teamxdark]

27. Driver's License

"SHADOW, I HAVE ACQUIRED MORE PARTS FOR PROJECT: DARK RIDER."

"Don't call it that."

Omega beeped in satisfaction as he unceremoniously dropped several miscellaneous parts onto the cave floor. "ALL PROJECTS REQUIRE A NEATO NAME. I LEARNED THAT FROM COMIC BOOKS."

Shadow grunted to show his disinterest as he rooted through the parts. Omega waited a few seconds for any sort of response before throwing his giant metal hands into the air, scraping against the rocky stalactites as he raised his volume output by a few extra decibels. "THE SACRED TEXTS!"

Shadow covered his ears at the sudden loudness, growling and raising his spines like a wounded animal. Omega, knowing his point was made, beeped happily again.

Shadow gave him a swift kick to the chest and sent him crashing into the grotto wall before resuming his appraisal, salvaging useable parts from the heap and placing them in a pile. The rest he crunched under his shoes as he kept sifting through the pile.

Omega, unphased from being launched into the wall, swiveled his head to admire Shadow’s progress on Project: Dark Rider; the motorcycle was still in its bare-bones stage, some essential bits and pieces missing from the structure and mechanisms while larger parts for the final steps laid about, waiting to be painted and put onto the finished product.

Omega hoped that it would have a few laser guns installed, or maybe tires that left trails of fire behind, but Shadow scoffed at his ideas. Then again, Shadow scoffed at everything, whether he agreed with it or not, so Omega could only wait in robotic anticipation for Project: Dark Rider’s completion.

Alas, the short-term urge to be a menace was stronger than the long term desire to see Project: Dark Rider finished, so Omega elected to inconvenience Shadow.

“SHADOW. DO YOU HAVE YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE?”

Predictably, Shadow scoffed.

“PROJECT: DARK RIDER CAN BE TAKEN FROM YOU IF YOU RIDE IT ILLEGALLY.”

“I’d like to see them try.”

“CAUTION: IF THERE IS ONE THING THE MAYOR DOES WITH ANY SENSE OF EFFICIENCY AND URGENCY, IT IS ENFORCING FEES AND/OR TRAFFIC PROTOCOLS. IF HE CAN MAKE ANY MONEY BY SENDING PROJECT: DARK RIDER TO A TOWING LOT, HE WILL.”

“I don’t need a piece of plastic to tell me that I can drive!” Shadow snapped, his spines bristling again. Objective met.

“QUERY: WHY NOT ASK ROUGE TO TEACH YOU TO DRIVE? SHE HAS CLAIMED TO HAVE HER LICENSE.”

“Yeah, in two-truths-one-lie. It might have been the lie.”

Omega whirred in intrigue, impressed that Shadow remembered that. Shadow, belatedly realizing that he had inadvertently admitted to remembering anything personal at all about Rouge and the context to boot, snarled as he claimed, “I don’t need her help! Just like I don’t need yours!”

“I BROUGHT YOU THE PARTS.”

“Feh! I could have done that myself, and faster.”

“YOU CUT ME DEEP, SHADOW.” Omega held one metal hand against his metal chest and rubbed the other one against his glass eyes, sending a shower of sparks to the ground and a thoroughly unpleasant scraping sound through the air. “REAL DEEP.”

“Good. I hope it helps you remember your place.” Shadow smirked, finally pleased with the outcome. Omega decided to rectify that.

“MY PLACE IS HERE, IN THIS CAVE AS THE PRIMARY OWNER.”

Shadow’s smirk faded into a sneer. Omega beeped happily once again.

Objective met.

[asherbrien]

The Benefits Of Selling Your House For Cash

Selling your house for cash can be an attractive option for many homeowners. Whether you’re looking to downsize, relocate, or simply get a quick sale, cash transactions offer numerous advantages that can simplify the selling process. Here are some key benefits of selling your house for cash.

Faster Transactions

One of the most significant benefits of selling your house for cash is the speed of the transaction. Cash buyers do not rely on mortgage approval, which can often delay the closing process. When you sell for cash, you can close in as little as a week, allowing you to move on to your next chapter much more quickly. This is especially beneficial if you’re facing time constraints due to job relocation, family changes, or other urgent circumstances.

Reduced Closing Costs

Traditional sales often come with various closing costs, including lender fees, appraisal fees, and inspection costs. When you sell your house for cash, many of these expenses can be eliminated or significantly reduced. This means more money in your pocket after the sale, making it a financially savvy option. Additionally, cash transactions may not require as much paperwork, further simplifying the process.

No Repairs Needed

Cash buyers, particularly real estate investors, often purchase homes in as-is condition. This means you won’t need to invest time or money into costly repairs, renovations, or staging before listing your home. Selling as-is allows you to avoid the stress and expense associated with preparing your home for sale, making the process more straightforward.

Certainty and Security

Cash offers provide a level of certainty that can be comforting for sellers. When you accept a cash offer, you eliminate the risk of the sale falling through due to financing issues or appraisal discrepancies. This reliability means you can plan your next steps with confidence, knowing that the sale is more likely to close without complications.

Fewer Contingencies

Cash buyers are typically more motivated and may be less likely to include numerous contingencies in their offers, such as financing or appraisal contingencies. This can streamline the selling process and reduce the likelihood of complications that might arise during negotiations. Fewer contingencies mean fewer hurdles to overcome, leading to a smoother transaction overall.

Flexibility in Negotiations

Selling your house for cash allows for greater flexibility in negotiations. Cash buyers may be more willing to negotiate terms that work for both parties, whether it’s the closing date or other sale conditions. This flexibility can make the process more agreeable for you as the seller, ensuring that your needs are met.

Privacy and Discretion

Cash sales often involve fewer people in the process, which can help maintain your privacy. You won’t have to host open houses or showings, and you can keep details of the sale more discreet. This can be particularly advantageous if you’re selling due to personal circumstances that you’d prefer to keep private.

Less Stress

The overall process of selling a house can be stressful, but cash sales often mitigate many of the common stressors. With fewer steps involved, less paperwork, and the elimination of financing issues, you can enjoy a more relaxed selling experience.

Conclusion

Selling your house for cash presents numerous benefits that can make the process faster, simpler, and more financially advantageous. From reduced closing costs to greater certainty and flexibility in negotiations, cash transactions provide a compelling alternative to traditional home sales. If you’re considering selling your home, exploring cash offers can be a strategic move that allows you to move on with confidence and ease.