#Best Lawyer for Banking Matters

[infignito]

Searching for the best lawyer in Mumbai for criminal matters? VIP & Dubey Associates offer expert legal defense, ensuring your rights are protected. Rely on our experience for a robust defense strategy.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Well. This is a Shitshow. Literally.

So if you've been following this blog, you will know that recently, I moved house. Nearly everything has been great- the location is already improving some of the mental and physical health issues I've been having, the animals love it.

BUT SOMEONE LIED

We went through literally a dozen home inspectors to prevent this from happening, but there's no preventing someone acting in Bad Faith, and turns out that the seller just... straight-up lied to us about an issue the sewer inspector pointed out and may have submitted fake paperwork saying they had it fixed.

It is very much Not Fixed :) There is raw sewage in my basement :)

The problem IS fixable, and I am not in danger, but this is going to cost a hell of a lot of money. We're already exploring legal options for a settlement*, the plumbing company we're working us gave us some really generous discounts and financing, but the fact of the matter is, this is going to cost $17,000 that I Do Not Have Right Now :)

*A settlement/lawsuit is not terribly likely to actually result in money because CO's legal protections for home-buyers kinda suck, and also, I Do Not Have Money Right Now, so I cannot afford the lawyer necessary to do all the filing. Best-case scenario for a settlement is likely "Maybe half the cost of the repairs, deposited in your bank account two years from now".

So, I know shit's been going around lately, but if you can throw a few bucks my way, it will go a long way towards my safety and sanity and also Getting The Raw Sewage Out Of My Basement In a Timely Fashion.

Ko-fi Paypal Fundraiser (Ends 4/20/23)

Thank you for your help, and I deeply, sincerely hoping that you are having a better day than I am.

[queen-of-elves]

Spilled wine

Summary: These events were all the same, the same names, the same faces, at least that's what Aemond had always thought.

A/N: this is more of a crack fic but not really? Basically everyone is friends and happy haha but not really. Aemond still has the scar but it happened during some summer vacation and it was a complete accident + Aemond getting his walls knocked down by reader and being absolutely whipped for her

Btw this is probably the most ambitious fanfic I ever attempted to write when it comes to the word count, so I am sort of proud of myself

Fanarts for this fanfic: The snap screenshot, some sketches of outfits, kiss

Masterlist

Words: 8,7K

Warnings: english is not my first language, drinking, mention of dr*gs, alcohol consumption, minimum use of Y/N, male oc present at the table, swearing, +18 themes but not smut

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Red and white

Aemond did not appreciate his mother pushing him into attending these kinds of events. Opulent and full of rich fellow friends of his sickly father. This was nothing more than a powertrip for their egos. Socialize, make connections and exploit them in the foreseeable future.

And this event was a definition of what he hated. Noone was there to actually enjoy themself, it was all an illusion. This was a competition: who can get more information while sipping on their drinks, who could manipulate another investor after doing lines in the dim bathrooms, who could win another connection to centuries old wealth. Aemond felt sick to his stomach over these thoughts even though he was born into this world. However, the worst part of this whole farce was that he needed none of that, except his grandfather did. His scheming got even more out of control since Aegon moved into Aemond's apartment, destroying his plans of him being the heir to their father’s company by being a reckless drunk out in the open.

And now he was standing next to him in a freshly pressed suit, dark green fabric turning black in the evening darkness. He once found suits and formal clothing as a second skin, armor he could hide underneath but they were now constricting him. Aemond’s younger self was always obsessed with this image of the perfect son. Well educated, polite, manners of the perfect gentlemen, perfect son, perfect in everything. PERFECT. The older he grew the more he started to resent the word, the more he started to fear it in some way. No matter how much he tried, it was never enough. While his brother was failing in everything he touched, Aemond was succeeding and it was all for nothing. 

His mother was giddy to introduce him to people, ready to make a match of him and some rich lady, probably at the instigation of his grandfather. Another face, another introduction. Aemond did not remember the new rich people introduced to him by his mother. And why should he, he did not expect to see them again. 

He already knew the proper aces in the field since he was 9 years old, he remembered well Lannisters who did business with his father through their banks or the Royce family, giants in the food industry and of course Hightowers, his grandfather’s and his mother’s name, his uncle Gwayne being one of the best lawyers. Aemond was meant to soon join him, after he finishes his studies.

When I finish college.

There were many more of these names, sewed into his brain since a young age but these names did not change, they were all playing the same game with the same moves with the same chess pieces since he was born. Generational wealth hiding from the new kind, gatekeeping their society from the rest, while they enjoyed parties with the best of the best.

“Oh, Aemond, do you remember Margaret Baeltigar?” Soft touch of his mother’s hand, almost as if burning him, woke him up from his thoughts. He had no recollection of such a lady, maybe she was one of Alicent’s so-called friends or maybe some wife of an investor in the family’s company.

The lady was slightly older than his mother, clad in a light blue gown, her boney hand clutching her glass of champagne. She was the kind of skinny only obtainable by starvation, unhealthy diet. The smile she gave him was forced, too much white pearly teeth showing for his liking and for it to be sincere. Her posture was rigid as if she was posing and maybe she was, to him, to his mother, to everyone.

“Of course.” The polite small smile fell unappreciated since her gaze had already turned away, wide eyes searching for something specific, someone specific in the crowd of empty faces.

“Here she is…” Those words seemed forced, like an unwanted gift you still have anticipated, so you keep smiling to please the donor. “Finally.” Her mouth was once again outstretched in that horrendous toothy smile, lips almost cracking under the strain of holding it all together. Boney arms holding out for a hug.

“Hello.” There was a polite voice behind him but he did not turn. Aemond already knew what this was about, this was not the first time he would get ambushed by his mother’s scheming mind into the web of being introduced to some bratty heiress. He did not even notice when his brother ran off, probably searching for another drink or a white powder to misuse, leaving Aemond to fend for himself. 

The young lady moved in a nonchalant manner, her attention solely on her mother and her outstretched arms. The hug was awkward, he could feel the deja vu pulsing through him. Image of Aemond and his mother enveloped in such a hug. A constant reminder of the chasm between them over unsaid things.

The stark contrast between the mother and her daughter was apparent. Boney corpse parading around the mirage of a living body dressed in light blue dress and young lady in red, bow tying it all around her neck, accompanying her.

“This is my daughter.” 

“It’s so lovely to meet you, dear.” The smile on his mother’s face was sincere, in some manner she was always excited to meet new young ladies, if it was ‘cause of her single sons or lonely daughter he did not know.

“Oh, thank you.” There was untypical shiness to her, voice not trembling but slightly fighting to be heard in the overabundance of loud talking. She seemed confident enough next to her own mother just like he was next to his. Her bright eyes had moved from Alicent to him and Aemond recognized the uneasiness in them. Used to the parties but not used to the contact with people at them.

“I am Y/N-” Her words just like her unstretched hand toward him were interrupted by her mother abruptly moving to the side. Attention of everyone in the conversation then shifted to the new face entering in. Another young woman, this time more similar to the mother in her face, same structure but much younger was now staring at him, grinning widely. The white dress shining in the light.

“Oh, you have to meet my oldest! She is such a delight!” This time Mrs. Baeltigar’s voice was high pitched, excitement radiating from the statement.  This was the second time Aemond felt deja vu struck him on this particular night. Oldest and delight, that’s how his mother used to talk about Aegon in front of everyone. Her most prized son, a son who did not care for his education and ended up on his younger brother’s coach, hiding from the rest of the family. 

The Baeltigar’s oldest daughter was marching right to them the moment she realized her mothers presence. Almost bumping into one of the waitresses' sides, overjoyed by the possible introduction, she clung to her mother’s thin left arm. 

“Margo Baeltigar, pleasure to meet you,” Margo’s voice was similar to her mother’s high pitch and sugary, leaving a sour taste in Aemond. The oldest was almost hyper focused on him and before he could even react to her introduction, she opened her mouth again but no words got to him. Because while this conversation took place the other sister carefully navigated her way around her sister’s body, moving into the background. Her figure slowly and unnoticed disappearing behind the two M named ladies, fighting for his and Alicent's attention.

There was a heavy stone set in his throat, his stomach fluttering at the same time and Aemond did not know what it meant, not yet. 

Aemond was thankful for not being seated at the same table as his mother or anyone from his family and while the company next to him was quite boring he knew it could have always been worse. Five seats out of six already occupied, he was not expecting any miracles from the last person yet to arrive. 

On his right was one of his father’s long term investors with his wife, a quiet old man with an already full belly even before the food had yet to arrive, his wife still yapping in her husband’s ear since they were seated, while on his left were two other men, one of them younger than the other. The younger one seemed like a total newcomer to this kind of event, to this kind of society too, his eyes constantly darted from one table to another, trying to identify everyone present. However, the man next to him was the opposite, comfortably sprawled in his seat, his hand leaning on the young man’s chair, black eyes observing his behavior, finding amusement in it. His smooth hair was graying just like his beard but there was pleasant handsomeness in his face. 

“I was almost afraid you would run off,” The silver fox at their table spoke up, gaze heading to someone behind his shoulder, the last person finally arrived at their table.  Aemond was only slightly interested in the person, another short distraction in a long night, he knew them all and quite frankly, they were all boring. 

The figure moved, he could feel the movement behind him, wind picking up, fabric rustling, heels clicking. A woman. Or a very short man, he had noticed several guys trying to hide their shortage, pun intended, by clapping heels hidden beneath longer suit pants. 

His hand gripped the champagne flute, glass slick with condensation, almost causing shivers down his spine. The liquid was bitter, bubbles fizzing on his tongue, and for a second it was an uncomfortable feeling before the drink slid down. In moments like these Aemond understood why his brother was always drinking, in the end there was nothing else to do. 

The new addiction to the table was finally at her seat, still chatting with the man. And just like the bubbles his boredom fizzled off. The bow was gone and she was no longer wearing the pretty red dress. Her current dress was snow white, like fresh cotton sheets, and on one shoulder. The fabric was dangling off her in an awkward manner, almost as if it was not meant for her. Her shoulders were hidden by black suit jacket, a decent and modest combo, however, it was apparent the outfit was not meant to be this way.

But white suits her.

“Don’t worry, I just went to save my sister.” The almost silver haired man moved the empty chair for her to sit in more comfortably, too eager for a new distraction at the table just like Aemond was. And once again Aemond felt something within him move, how did they know each other, were they close, he might be years older than her but even his mother was significantly younger than his father. 

“Oh, what has she done this time?” Laughter erupted from the man, cheeks blooming red. For a moment, Aemond thought she would take offense to such a statement, he probably would but only in the sense of feeling embarrassment for himself stemming from his brother’s failures. In some sense he loved his brother but on most days he was exploding in anger over Aegon’s public mistakes.

 However, she only sheepishly grinned before motioning to her side. “Spilled some wine on herself.” And truly there it was, ugly red stain on her hip, the jacket covering it just enough to not be prominent in the evening dim lighting, saving her from judging glares.

“Of course you did.” This time the man was the one with a sheepish smile hiding behind his glass, twinkle in his eyes indicating some kind of hidden joke. 

The Targaryen felt like he was the only one witnessing the conversation even though the full table’s attention was turned to two. His eyes were scanning her face, then the dress and then her face again. She acted as if she was so used to it and there was silent understanding on his part for such action. It wasn’t long before the two noticed his unmoving gaze, while the other occupants of the table turned to their own matters.

“I suppose our introduction was cut short. I am Y/-,” He did like her smile, it was soft, not quite reaching her eyes, not in a malicious kind of way. To an untrained eye it would only seem like a sincere reaction, to Aemond’s it was apparent her smile was the result of years of practice. 

“I know.” His voice cut through her sentence like a hot knife, stopping her completely. Aemond knew of his talent to be awfully cold to people but this time he had truly overdone himself. The smile he rewarded her with, trying to improve his reputation, only received by a puzzled look from her and her companion. 

This night can’t get worse.

Rough grimace struck his face, muscles twitching under the pressure of his failing. He was good at this, he was good at these events. So why was he fucking it all up today? Bitter feeling bit his throat and he wished he could swallow all the shame in the world, devour every mistake he ever made so no one could gaze upon them and he would be perfect again. Was it because she felt familiar to him? Because she had the same watchful eyes behind her every step, watching her to complain about her wrong doings? Or maybe he was completely wrong and playing himself entirely.

After the food arrived, most of the over the table conversation had died down, except for a few whispers here and there between some of them. He did not register any kind of taste, all was now in a fog to him, the illusion of a perfect man shattering with each glance turned to her. Only consolation prize to him were the few and far inbetween looks she rewarded him with. The plates with food were gone just as fast as they appeared, all in a flash moving forward. It was time to go out, social torture once again in progress. 

And at the end of the night, when most of the guests had already left and the rest were getting ready to leave, he saw a glimpse of her saying goodbye to the older man from their table. Aemond realized he never got to know his name but he knew he could turn the tables, he could make this right again. 

There was not much left of the courage in him on this grim night, but what was left had to be sufficient for now. His movement was rigid, he weaved between the people, tables and chairs, mind almost blank except for the command to move forward, to go to her.

“Hi.” Was his voice always so rough? He tried to swallow with no success, the lump in his throat winning.

“Hi.” Her eyes were wide, caught by surprise, she moved to fully face him. The light softly illuminated her face, giving her a certain glow he knew he would never forget. There just was something so familiar about her. Like a picture he has seen before but now had no recollection of. Have they already met? He couldn’t remember even though he really wanted to.

“Sorry about the…” His head moved to their table, indicating what he meant without having to say that. Aemond was sure he would spontaneously combust if he had to talk about his own rudeness caused by the unfamiliar uneasiness in his stomach more than this.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Her answer was so casual, as if his rude behavior was long gone from her mind, while he wanted the opposite even if it were her remembering only the worst stuff about him. He needed her to remember him.

He could hear someone call her name, the shadow of her mother frantically waving her hand at them, signaling something to her. There was a drunk mess of a person even further behind her mother, hair everywhere, red dress tripping her on uneasy legs.

It was an image he was so used to by now, but this time, it was not his responsibility. It was someone else’s. And somehow it changed nothing, there was a bile rising up inside him, hands sweaty and heart beating too fast, such a familiar situation he saw her in. It was like looking in the mirror.

She was biting her lip anxiously, some part of her evidently annoyed at her sister and he wanted to tell her to never ever do that again. He wanted to take all her worries away, he wanted to do that for her.

“Sorry…” Her shoulders visibly slumped, one of her shoulders escaping from under the black jacket. “Have to go.” Her manicured thumb pointing behind her, at the mess she was meant to deal with. Her older sister was drunk off her mind, stumbling in the crowd, the man with her unable to hold her straight up, part of him found relief in the fact Aegon was not with her. One of her heels dangled off the man’s hand while the other wrestled to keep her on her feet.

“Have a great night!” Aemond thought these words might haunt him for the rest of his life, the rest of the night squished into few fragments of him saying bye to people and getting back to his apartment, while some part of him was still stuck in the moment with her.

Teal blue

This time she was wearing teal blue gown, satin complementing her skin like nothing he has ever seen. Her smile was wide and even though Aemond saw her only in passing, a warm feeling spread through his insides. Since their first encounter he had chastised himself for his behavior, praying for a chance to redeem himself to her.

However, they were not seated at the same table and for once he found himself disappointed for the lack of his mother's interference. And so after losing Aegon, in the crowd, even though he was meant to babysit him after his last drunk tirade at some club went public, he began mapping the whole place in hope to find the teal gown in the crowd. 

It was after the obnoxious dinner that he found her standing next to the bar, the silverfox by her side once again. Aemond could not hear them but it seemed as an interesting conversation by the way her arms flailed while explaining something. Wide grins spreaded over both of their faces before a round of giggles overcame them. Faced near each other in secretive closeness, they held on the other’s arms strongly while their bodies shook in held down laughter.

He wanted to know what they were to each other, how back they went and why they held each other so familiarly and he wanted to do the same with her. It was like a new emotion, jealousy he had never experienced. 

His pleading stares must have awoken some mercy in her. The young lady bid goodbye to her friend and gracefully walked over to him, still holding his gaze. And even though Aemond’s attention the whole night was fixated on the image of her, now that she was there, he was lost for words. 

“Evening.” The cheeky smile was back and if it was to disarm him it worked perfectly. Lost in his nervous thoughts, he chewed on his cheek, an anxiety filled bad habit he picked up as a kid. It took him a moment to realize she was patiently waiting for his reply. He completely forgot he was meant to give her his greeting too.

“Evening.” He could only mutter his reply. Needles of uneasiness prickling along his spine, giddy feeling spread through him now that he was once again near her. He needed to set it right, courage boiling his throat but no words came out, he was overwhelmed by all of it. His solace was found in a similar scene in front of him. 

She, like himself, was in a frozen state, mouth open, ready to speak and eyes moving all around the room, searching for something to say. Both of them desperately need to say something to the other, not only to fill the silence but for the simple reason to converse with the other one. 

The voices and music completely overwhelmed them and while they hoped it would soothe some of the anxiety over their failed meetings it only fueled their nerves more. Their eyes met again, corners of their mouths simultaneously lifted, smiling like idiots. And there was a silent understanding between them. The ballroom is too loud, let’s move it to the balcony.

The balcony itself was absolutely quiet, there was no one who would disturb them. Night cold breeze was slowly picking up but the heat from the inside was enough to keep them satisfied. He could not see the outside properly, lights blinding his vision of their surroundings and he liked it this way. 

Maybe this time he would not come off as a rude idiot to her, maybe this time it could all end well. Both of them stood with their backs to the lights of the ballroom, only darkness before them and cold railing underneath their hands. The silence between them was comfortable, for now at least.

Aemond was aware of the intense stare she was giving him, precisely his fake eye and the scar dividing the bad eye socket into two. It had been years since he gained the injury, the scar no longer dark reddish color but more of a white pink, it faded slowly, plus his mother begged his father to pay for laser treatment to help it fade out quicker. He also got gifted the new fake eye, his mother was absolutely ecstatic over it, her sweet son’s face finally appeared more normal. 

He knew she did not mean it that way but it still hurt, and the eye itself hurt or maybe it was the injury itself. If only he could wear his eyepatch to these kinds of events but according to his mother it was too eye-catching (pun not intended) compared to the fake eye even though if someone looked at him for too long they would probably notice not only the scar but the fact he could not fully open the eye or the lack of movement in it. And so fake eye it was.

“How did it happen?” Her eyes softly cascaded over his face before settling on his bad eye again.

“It was…,” Aemond felt like he couldn’t breathe, not this conversation again ,” an unfortunate accident.” Over the years he had dozens upon dozens of people asking him the same question and not stopping snooping even with his short answers cutting them off.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Her attention turned to the crowd behind them, they might have moved to one of the balconies but the noise of people was still present.

“It’s okay.” He hummed, never knowing what to say to those who pitied him over the injury. “It happened years ago.” Aemond hardly ever thought about it now, it worked as a bitter reminder of his own carelessness in the end. And while some responsibility laid with his cousins and brother he knew it was his decision, he couldn’t blame them for it even if he did at the start.

“It’s more purple.” Her attention was back on him, staring right at  the fake eye once again.

“What?”

“The other eye.” Her delicate hand pointed to his left side of face. “It’s more purple.” Aemond knew the prosthetic he got was not identical in the color to his other eye and while others claimed he was only imagining it, he knew. He knew it was not the exact shade of purple like his other eye.

People always saw the younger son of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, second born son, the Targaryen boy, not Aemond. Not the young Baeltigar, she looked at him, not through him, not at his family, not at his very possibly, almost surely, shiny future thanks to his name.

He had never felt so seen in his life and being known by her became a carnal need to him.

This time it was his mother who called for a saving of an older sibling, in the middle of the night Aegon had sneaked away from Cole’s watchful eyes and ended up drunk as the dirty pig he was. They must have found him half asleep on some naked lady’s back in one of the private rooms of the manor the event was at, his hair was a complete mess, his earring already gone and tie let loose. Aemond expected him in a worse state than this, most of the time he was called to him half dead, this was nothing compared to those times. But his mother was red faced, completely embarrassed by his brother’s antics.

Light pink

It was weird, feeling this nauseating feeling within him. Aemond felt like a little boy again, excited for another gala where he could show how perfect of a son he is. When he was still a child he would parade himself around, maybe because his mother and father did not, while Aegon got all the attention. 

However, this time it was different, this time it was only because of one person, one person’s perception of him. He was excited to see her and for her to see him. Their last talk left him hopeful for more.

This time it was her who found him, dressed in light pink fabric that was easily floating around her in the soft breeze, she found him right after dinner. He was just thinking about the appetizer, perfectly composed plate with balanced flavors but he could not figure out what the sauce was made out of. It was a little game he liked to play with himself, so he wouldn’t lose his mind over the boredom. 

“Are our meetings destined to be cut short every single time?” With a champagne flute in hand, another occupied by a whole bottle of it, casually staring him down with a light smile gracing her face, she talked comfortably to him.

“Hope not.” He could feel corners of his mouth twitching and soon a similar smile appeared on his face. It warmed his heart that she was the one to find him, that he was not the only one searching for her and she herself was on a mission to find him. 

Just like the white dress, or any other actually, the light pink shade suited her. The thin fabric of the short sleeves hid her shoulders away from him but he was still fascinated by the soft skin of the inside of her arm.  He could feel the twitch of his fingertips over the thought of touching her there. 

Once again soft silence creeped on them while the both of them observed his older brother, balancing one glass of whiskey in his hand while trying to stay upright, his attention far away from the liquor spilling over the brim but on the young lady in front of him. If it was anyone else Aemond might have felt embarrassment bubbling up to the surface but since he had seen her own older sister in similar state, her presence left him unmoved by it. 

“I think some part of me hates him.” The words left him before he could fully comprehend what he was saying.

She hummed at that, it was a comforting sound he did not deserve, at least in his head. No proper brother could say something like this about his sibling. Regret was a bitter friend to his heart and to his mind. He should not have said that, not to her, she should not know how angry he was inside. 

“He is my brother.” He tried to convince her of his sins against his family, his kin. Part of him did not want to acknowledge fully what he said, he prayed to stay in her good grace, in everyone’s good grace by being the good son, the good Targaryen boy, polite, smart, sophisticated.

.

“I know.” She laughed with ease and Aemond knew the bitter feeling was not going to fade away, as always. He could not escape the regret of speaking out, he did not deserve any pity.

“It’s so hard to explain to anyone.” The words fell off his tongue so freely, Aemond thought someone else was using his mouth to voice out their concern. 

“Right?” Another comforting sound came out of her and maybe the bitterness could fade away from him, from both of them. He could feel it radiating from her skin, they were so similar and unaware of it until now.  “Everyone always tells me to just let it go-, you don’t own them anything and yadayada-, but I can’t-”

“Because she is your sister.” Before she could finish, he knew what she was going to say, he knew those words too well. Everyone said them to him, let it go, let your brother go, he will fuck up and he will have to solve it. However, he could not because in the end he was the one getting voicemails of his drunk brother’s voice, panicked calls from his mother, there was no escaping it, his blood, his family tree tied him to this whole mess. Just like her.

“Yeah…” she nodded, tired from the whole situation. “Exactly.” He did not like the line between her brows, frown caused by his voice, his words. He wished to never see that expression on her face ever again.

“We can’t save them.” The wind pushed the words away from the pair and neither of them knew who uttered them first or who regretted them before the other one.

Another sip of champagne turned into two and then a long gulp, they shared the alcohol so freely, Aemond felt like he could fly in the sky, happy butterflies flapping their wings on the inside of him. She soon downed her flute and instead of filling it back up her hand set the glass down with a clink. 

The light from the ballroom framed her perfectly, creating a vibrant halo around her silhouette. And again Aemond was lost at the vision of her. She was so comfortable in her skin, in her own struggles, in this situation. She felt comfortable even to him and he wanted her to remain comfortable for the rest of her life.

And so he nudged her shoulder with the champagne bottle, creating a moist trace below her armlet. For a moment he was hypnotized by the droplet and its slick path trailing down her arm. He envied it for even a longer moment, to trace her skin to him is to die of the fire inside him. 

Her hand gripped the bottle, tilting it slightly, another sip of the still cold liquor ended in her mouth. And with that he realized she drank alcohol like Aegon did, with no struggle, with no twitch in her face over the bitter taste, like she liked the feeling of it hitting her tongue. He missed the weight of the bottle in his hand and the empty feeling started to itch on his skin, before he realized.

It felt almost intimate, his cheeks aflame and the little boy in him was kicking his feet. An indirect kiss. He drank from the bottle himself before her, their lips touched the same surface.

He did not even notice how the evening turned into a night, only darkness now facing them on the balcony high above ground. Voices behind them have yet to tune down but he could feel the event slowly ending.

And the familiar man was back, simply nodding to her not daring to step even a bit to them, only glancing at them from the inside of the big hall. The smile on his face might have been in a friendly manner but his round glasses hide the glint in his black eyes.

“What are you two?” Throughout their conversations Aemond realized he liked how she enjoyed his forwardness, just like he did with her. There was no shame between them.

“Me and…” there was a slight twitch in her face and she tried to contain it, unsuccessfully in the end “Kim?” 

Kim. 

He did not mind the name, it went over his tongue and he swallowed it slowly. It was not a name he hated, it just felt unfamiliar. However, he was not afraid of it, not with her by his side. The fox be damned.

The laughter was soft, almost scaring him for a moment. Whispered giggles as if she tried to hold it in, turned into a full blown cackling. Her body bending forward with hand set on her stomach, she looked at him, shining once again. 

“He is my friend. Like an uncle… some sort of, I guess.” She giggled at these words. Quick glance and he saw Kim looking their way again, smirking in a conspicuous manner. 

“Oh.” Embarrassment reddened his cheeks, shattering any kind of thoughts left in his stupid thick skull, except for the two voices.

Of course.

They are just friends.

Calm down.

Thank god.

Tucking on his sleeve, he turned his full attention back to her. His body was so close to hers, he could almost distinguish the shape of the lights reflecting in her eyes. And her wide eyes only stared at him. Aemond could get used to this kind of attention, he loved it too much for his liking. It was intoxicating.

Her arms enveloped him, she folded him into her embrace like it was nothing, it was an instinct to her. Even Aemond could feel she needed him close, a secret message embedded into the touch but the meaning was evading him. Both of them knew though, this meant something to both of them and it calmed them.

She was holding him so close and so gently, he never ever experienced something like this. No one ever treated him this way, he almost thought he did not deserve it. It was foreign but not unpleasant but he still felt undeserving of this. To receive kindness was a different kind of punishment for him. Warm touch burning him to the bones, scarring him, it was an awful feeling like nothing else. However, this felt holy, as if gods decided to bless his horrible mind. His horrible mind that only thought of her, how he could keep himself in her presence. She was warm and kind, dark as a shadow and present in everything. No, there might be a holiness in her touch, that kind he might become slave to, but to her, there was nothing saint. She was rotten, broken and mend on the inside like him and still she decided to look at him as if complete, as if she accepted it. And Aemond knew he could never get enough of it.

At that moment it was apparent to him. Hell existed and for them it was their sacrifices for their families, expected of them and without reward. Hell for them was sewed into their blood and they couldn’t do anything about it just obey the law set upon them by the iron chain in their veins. 

Her movement unsettled him, afraid of losing her warmth, calmness now in disarray in his heart. She moved away, just slightly but enough that they could see into each other's eyes and there was uncommon indecision in her stare, and then she moved again.

The first touch of her lips was hesitant, almost shy and maybe it was all the alcohol playing with his brain, Aegon oftentimes blabbered with his drunk mouth about beautiful dreams of even more beautiful ladies before Aemond woke him up to get him home. But if it was a dream, he hoped it would last a lifetime before he himself had to be awoken.

It was soft, almost innocent. Her lips just gently touched his before courage overtook her and something hungry awoke in him. What was once a gentle embrace soon turned into a violent clash, their mouths fighting against each other, devouring more and more of the other person. There was no stopping now, any kind of will of holding themselves back was gone forever. They stepped over the line, now open for crossing.

Her hand gripped his forearm urging him closer, each kiss more hungry, igniting something within him. Soon a soft skin met his neck, gripping the hair at the base and tugging. In that moment his legs almost gave up on him, the overwhelming feeling consuming him completely, his mind, his body and his soul. 

That's how life should be, he thought, being drunk and kissing a pretty girl, kissing her.

Her warmth suddenly left him and the young Targaryen had no desire to open his eyes, too afraid of the dream ending. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed he would never wake up, she would never leave and her touch on his skin would be still present.

Another soft kiss tore him up from that fantasy, this time on his cheek and what he saw was a vision he never wished to forget. Her cheeks were red, hair a complete mess, absolutely breathless, trying to calm down but still the most beautiful person he has ever met. Pupils blown wide moving across his face, her smile reached her eyes and her whole face was bright.

“I have to go.” He did not like those words. No, there was no ending to it now, they were meant to kiss forever until both of them suffocated, unable to leave the presence of the other.

“No.” His voice was hoarse but the implication of his words seemed too stern for his fogged brain. 

“My taxi is here.” Her hand moved, pointing to the yellow car parked and waiting for the next passenger. The smile she gave him was reassuring, lulling him back to the foggy fantasy of kissing her again. 

“Oh.” 

He watched her wave goodbye to a few people, leaving in their own cars or by other taxis, he himself should get moving, find his brother and leave too. However, he could not move, his body rigidly straightened, neck craning to catch a few last more glimpses of the car she left in. 

And even with her once again gone, Aemond’s mind was dizzy and belly full of butterflies.

“Awww, you smooched the girl.” His brother giggled from the coach, his form morphing into the soft cushions, with one of his sweaty hands grasping for the bottle set on the coffee table. While his brother was occupying the coach, his oldest cousin took the armchair next to it, spreaded out just like Aegon. Luke, the younger cousin of his, was meanwhile seated next to his brother but on the ground with his back to the armchair, with one cushion stuffed under him, functioning like a seat.

All of them were in some state of disarray, of course his brother the most. Aegon’s tie was missing, just like his suit jacket and one of his shoes. If he knew one of his feet was bare, not counting the dirty sock still stuck on it, he did not let it be known by anyone. The white shirt he wore was sticking to his skin and some of the buttons were undone throughout the night, Aemond could see the tiny stain on his right wrist. White wine or whiskey, he wasn't sure. Compared to him both of Jace’s shoes were present, his hair a complete mess just like Aemond’s, and while he took off his own suit jacket it was apparent that tomorrow won’t be pleasant for his head. The most kept of them was young Luke presumably because Jace did not let him drink more than a flute of champagne through the dinner and a few sips of the wine served at the event.  

“You didn’t have to call them here.” Aemond waved his hand to their cousins. His older brother decided to end his night with a big sweet treat as a finale, Aemond’s humiliation. It took him one text, snap exactly, to their cousin Jace and they were all here, in Aemond’s apartment. At least Baela and her sister went out for more drinks and were not present, plus Heleana already left because she felt too tired, bless her heart.

“Oh, come on.” Aegon was enjoying it all, the panicked expression of his brother, the utter confusion of their cousins and most of all, the drink he was finishing. “Take this as a…,” his arms motioned into the open living room, searching for the correct words,“family bonding experience, eh?” His brother’s face was once again graced by a cheeky smirk. Once more Aemond felt like a joke, as a tired, drunk joke but he knew if he decided to go to bed, sleep would not overcome him, only panic would.

“So… How did it happen?” Young Luke piped up, his ears turning a light shade of pink. At least Aemond was not the only one embarrassed by the conversation.

“Well-, I-I kissed her?” Shrugging his shoulders, Aemond tried to act as if talking about it was not bothering him at all, as if it was another normal conversation.

“That sounded more like a question, mate.” This time it was Jace who spoke up, not giving Aemond even a glance, occupied by his phone, possibly texting Baela, while still part of the conversation.

“We… kissed…” He was at a loss of words, how does he describe it…. It wasn’t like this was Aemond’s first kiss, far from that. There were some girls in school when he was younger, few relationships, notably with Alys, that one had a nasty end. “And… so- like…,” The whole conversation was not only irritating his nerves and his brain but his eye, the old scar pulsing under the pressure of the talk and even the fake eye.

Fuck. I need to get it out.

Aemond was still uncomfortable with taking his fake eye out in front of… well basically anyone and while he could go search for the eyepatch he wore instead of the artificially created prosthetic, his nerves did not allow him to move.

His silence was not taken lightly by the men in his living room, each of them racking their brains as to why someone like him was unable to describe what happened.

“But it was like…” Jace nodded his head, trying to indicate the words without saying them,” y’know… consensual?” At this Aemond’s pacing stopped, it all happened too fast. Did HE kiss her first? He definitely didn’t have enough courage to kiss her first, did he? Maybe the alcohol, maybe she… 

“I… think so?” Memories in Aemond’s head started to swim, prompted by an anxious feeling setting in his chest, messing up his perception of the events or maybe it was the alcohol…

“Okay…” He did not like this reaction from his brother one bit, nerves one level higher and he might definitely explode. The whole room was slowly but surely getting influenced by his own nerves in the end not helping him ease his mind at all, more like provoking him to descend to madness more and more.

“So that kiss was like… alright, eh?” Aegon’s unsure face was also not helping his nervous mind.

“Eh…” He did not like this sound, he himself did not know where it came from but the tone prompted everyone to silently pounder for a few seconds before they arrived at their separate conclusions.

All eyes turned to his tall frame, mouths slowly opening. “Don’t.” He tried to shut them down promptly, hand raised at them once again, especially if their conclusion was that he was a bad kisser.

“But what if she actually doesn’t like you?” Aegon’s words cause them to think again while Aemond pointed his finger at him, fuming and ready to slap his brother over the head.

“Wait a second…” He tried to gain footing in the conversation but it was a losing battle. “I am just saying that-” This time Aemond was sure to swat his hand toward his brother, meters away, meant to not cause any harm but to at least scare him a bit.

“Hold on,-” Luke was unsuccessfully trying to defuse the situation, getting this conversation might have been going the wrong route.

“He did not mean it like that!” Jace too tried to intercede the whole ordeal but just like his younger brother completely unsuccessful.

“Yeah and how the FUCK did he mean it then!?” Aemond’s nerves finally gave up, letting out his fury. 

“Calm DOWN!” The armchair under Jace screeched after he pushed it in an attempt to stand up, ending up back in it after losing his balance.

“He WAS JUST SAYIN-” It was Luke’s turn to get up or it was simply prompted by his brother moving his back support. 

“I DON’T CARE!” His throat felt tight, scratched from the volume of his voice. He knew he was losing it but he could not stop.

The words took everyone by surprise. They were used to some mean and angry words from Aemond, he was antisocial on his better days and if pushed far enough he would get cruel in some fucked up way to hide himself from the world. However, to see him bubble over, to let himself scream so unapologetically… this was the first time for any of them to witness, even Aegon got quiet.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” It came out more like a whisper, an involuntary sound escaped him and Aemond was finally ready to collapse, to throw it all out of the window, lose it completely and most embarrassingly ready to cry in front of them.

“I mean, maybe she likes y-” Aegon’s voice piped from his right, still on the coach he was subtly hiding behind his now empty beer bottle.

“YOU said that MAYBE SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME!” 

“I am sure she likes you.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

“WELL, I WAS NOT THERE!” 

But this time Aegon was down to yelling it out along with his brother, the alcohol or just his rude nature supporting him in the decision. The screaming match went on for quite some time, Luke and Jace slowly joining, the living room becoming louder and louder, Aemond’s downstairs neighbors were sure to call the police any minute now. At the end none of them knew how the screaming match started, who argued with what or what they were arguing about, the alcohol dulling their sense of reason.

“Why are you all yelling?!” Baela’s agitated voice sounded from the front door, she was still in her coat while Rhaena had her shoes already off.

And then inferno began once more, voices shouting over each other in a chaotic symphony.

“RHEANA!”

“BAELA! YOU WON’T BEL-!”

“WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE M-!”

“YO AEMOND KISSED -!”

For a moment they all quieted down, catching their breath, bodies heaving and faces reddened, fingers still pointed at each other. “What?” Rheana asked, turning her gaze to her sister in a confused manner. Baela instead looked unamused partly because she got used to such banter from the younger two men.

“DRINKS!”

All heads turned to Aegon whose attention was now preoccupied by the plastic bag dangling from Baela’s hand. She lifted her hand, dangling it in front of his face as some sort of bait. And while the girls lured Aegon into the kitchen with the bad set down on the kitchen counter, Aemond felt like crying. Crying like when he was a little kid, unable to escape his doom.

Bottles clicked against each other aggravating Aemond even more. His anxiety was spiking up, dizziness almost overcoming him. This could only result in another screaming match between all of them until he would give up and tell them to fuck out of his apartment, Aegon included, even if he had been sleeping on his coach for the last 2 months.

Speaking of which, his brother was once again attempting to open a new bottle of beer while the girls finally sat on the coach previously occupied solely by him. “Thanks for the keys.” Rheana’s outstretched arm was handing him his keys but Aemond felt drained of all energy. Instead of taking them he motioned for her to throw them, catching them with ease. The iron keys to his apartment comfortably cold from the outside night air, grounding him in his own body. He was fine, in his living room, in his apartment… and he was fine.

“So…,” Rheana could feel his uneasiness prompting her to tune down the volume of her voice to a soft mumble, almost whispering, “what was all of this about?” 

“He kissed the girl,” Aegon shared on the behalf of his brother. Aemond was not sure if it was for his own sakes or if he simply wanted to be the one to break the news once again.

“The girl?” Her eyebrows raised, Baela motioned with a light smirk to Jace to continue, to indulge her curiosity. And he would of course indulge her as always. “Yeah.” 

“Wait… what girl?” Her sister spoke up, this time louder while another cheeky smile played on Baela’s face, giggling like a schoolgirl ready to receive another juicy rumor.

So Aemond recounted the story one more time, this time properly with some actual details. They talked, shared some personal stuff, and when it came to saying goodbye she kissed him before leaving in a taxi. He made sure to leave out the details of his knees buckling every time she had touched him or the fact he could still smell her shampoo and was still thinking about her eyes, lips, everything.

“Well, she is the girl.” Baela whispered mischievously, her elbow assaulting her sister’s side before the mischief in her face turned into another loud laughter. Rheana giggles had continued to sound throughout the room, waking him up again.

“Yeah?” Confused grimace overtook Luke’s face, his whole face scrunched in confusion. “So?” With a nod Aemond tried to urge the girls to continue, almost not breathing over what might come out of their mouths. There was hope for his doing and where was hope was also disappointment.

“I can guarantee you she knows that she is THE girl” Rhaena laughed even more. “I mean SHE kissed him!” Aegon gave Aemond a pointed look which turned into a cheeky grin before a hysterical laughter overcame him, realizing they truly might have been overthinking the whole situation. The bottle of beer he was holding up to his mouth for a not sip shaking violently, spilling some of its content out on his shirt, adding to the mess of him.

 “Honestly, guys… I don’t know what you are all debating over” The sisters bumped their shoulders, giggling like little girls, excited over the information. “She obviously likes him.” And even more loud giggles followed, Aegon gradually joining in with his screeching laugh, not holding back.

“Shit.” Faint murmur left his lips. Realization setting in, he might have kissed her but she was definitely the first one to make a move.

This was one of the worst and best nights in his life.

[skyriderarts]

GLOBAL PROTESTS ON MARCH 2ND, 2024

This website will tell you where to find your closest rally to protest against the assault on Rafah, the occupation of Gaza and the West Bank, the starvation and genocide of the Palestinian people, and the attacks on Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan.

Mark that day off, make signs, and remember Protester etiquette;

Physically tell someone and write down where you're going to be, how long you should be there, and when you're expected to be back or when they should hear from you. If they don't or you're not back after that time, tell them to get in contact with the National Lawyers Guild and the ACLU if you live in the States. You can also search for lawyers that do what's called "Mass Defense Program"(fancy term for when a bunch of protesters are nabbed at once) in your area for region appropriate alternatives.

Do NOT wear anything that has identifiable logos or symbols that the police can reverse search for, Cops found people from the George Floyd marches from a shirt found off Etsy. Wear layers in case you are grabbed by anyone, and purses should have a quick-release clip with little in them as possible if that gets snatched too. Have on shoes you feel comfortable walking for hours on end in and are also good for if you quickly need to run away from police. And *MOST DEFINITELY* WEAR A FUCKING MASK! Not just so police can't get you recorded to he tracked down at your home later, *WE'RE STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF COVID AND YOU DON'T WANNA DIE TO IT!*

Keep an eye out for people in the crowds who seem like they're trying to rile up a mob or otherwise become violent; at best they're pulling attention away from the actual intent of the march, at worse they're undercover cops trying to entrap you and everyone around you.

Bring an umbrella: The protesters of Hong Kong taught us that even if the weather will be dry for you, it's a very simple shield that'll keep any water or chemicals from being sprayed on you.

If worst comes to worst and you do get arrested (and this one primarily applies to Americans, I'm sorry but I don't know about the rest of the world. If it's similar please educate me and others with an addition to this post) you've got *two sentences* you need to repeat; "I have the right to remain silent. I have the right to an attorney." SHUT THE FUCK UP AFTER THAT! No matter what they try and scare you with, what they try and bribe you with, you just shut the fuck up.

[flowerandblood]

The Crime and Punishment (7)

[ modern! lawyer • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, age gap, smut, domination kink, sexual tension, fluff ]

[ description: Aemond becomes a co-owner of one of the largest law firms in the area. He is invited to cooperate by one of the best lawyers he knows. While working in the evenings on further matters at his house, he meets his daughter, much younger than him, whose behavior gives him sleepless nights. Anon Request: Age gap, domination, lots of sexual tension and guilt. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Ever since her father caught them almost in the act they decided they had to be more careful. They texted each other and saw each other in the office, but decided to wait with any intimate contact until the business trip that awaited them.

Hannah finished her apprenticeship and she took her place. Surprisingly, now that she was the one handling his files, tidying up his archives, and completing his paperwork, he was completely calm and had no complaints about her work. Everything was going like clockwork.

It was hard for her not to walk over to him and touch him. When he was standing next to her she took his big hand and lead her inside his panties, letting him feel how wet she was because of him.

Sometimes they would stand by his bookcase, kissing like teenagers afraid of being caught by their parents. Both of them were overwhelmed with tension and frustration, but on the other hand they loved this secret relationship.

They had a business trip ahead of them which they both kept thinking about. A very big case was going on in the city a few hours away, and Aemond was the lead defense attorney on the defendant's case. The situation was about millions, bribes and no compensation payments to employees. Aemond believed that the failure to pay proper compensation was fair, but the bribery allegations were made up.

“They have nothing on him, apart from the testimony of one of the employees who allegedly saw such a transaction. No suspicious bank transfers, no sudden large withdrawals, nothing. The young prosecutor deals with this case and wants to shine which is why he is pushing for the strictest sentence. A fucking brat.” He grunted as he sat behind the wheel, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as she looked through his documents.

They were on their way to the hotel near the courthouse where everything was to take place. There were a lot of witnesses on both sides of the case, there was also quite a lot of media coverage, so they prepared to stay there for a few days. Not that they mind.

She suspected that he wanted nothing more than to fuck her in his hotel room. They had booked two separate apartments for appearances, but she knew she would sleep in his bed. She sighed at his words.

“He will show off and will not give up. I also believe that the accusation of bribery is unjustified. They just want to destroy him. You've got to put that Thomas Moor under pressure, to get him bogged down in his testimony. I don't think he saw anything, just taking revenge on the old boss." She said, reading the file again in the last few days. She felt like she knew them by heart, but she didn't want to disappoint him.

"I know." He murmured low.

She flinched as she felt his free hand on her knee, stroking up and down her thigh, she's been wet since she got in the car. She wanted to ask him to stop somewhere in the woods, undo his fly, and start riding him, fucking him hard. She decided not to show him how desperate she was.

By the time they arrived they had two hours left before the trial. They knew they couldn't be distracted, so each of them went to a different room.

She began to dress, deciding that the light dress she was wearing was not suitable for the courtroom. She put on a black, tight turtleneck and bright, elegant pants fastened with a belt high at the waist. Some of her long hair was tied up in a bun at the back.

She looked at herself in the mirror and decided that she looked nice, elegant and serious, but not old at the same time. She decided not to wear any jacket, leaving herself a little slack. She took the folders with the documents she had to take and left the room, waiting for him in the corridor.

She smiled to herself as he left, his shirt and trousers impeccably arranged and ironed as usual. She wondered if she would be taking those clothes off him today. She saw him look her up and down, feigning indifference. She knew he liked the way she looked and that he was thinking the same thing as her.

"Let's go." He said calmly and they left the hotel, heading across the street to the courthouse.

Aemond didn't change into his attorney's robe until he entered the courtroom. She had seen him in it many times before, but she had never sat next to him.

She brought them both coffee and tea. People began to come inside, the prosecutor appeared on the opposite side. He smiled at them and nodded, but only she smiled back.

After a while the judge came in and everyone got up. A middle-aged man with visible, gray hair opened the trial, briefly stating what they would do and what witnesses would testify.

The prosecutor had priority in asking questions. Their client, seated behind them fidgeted uneasily, pale and tired. It was obvious he hadn't slept through the night.

The prosecutor was very well prepared. He was acutely aware of their client's slightest lapses, his private conflicts with his associates which he theorized, would force him to bribe a few people to keep him in the chair.

He used words like "surely," "as everyone knows," "well known to be," and so on. She thought it was pathetic that he was trying to create an image of their client by mere manipulation, instead of relying on evidence she and Aemond both knew, he didn't have.

She jotted down on small sticky notes any slip-ups she thought were worth noting. Then she taped them to Aemond's briefcase in front of him. He read them, then listened to the prosecutor again, his face set as stone.

Cross-examination of witnesses followed, and Aemond was able to relate to what the prosecutor had said. She heard with satisfaction as, in addition to his own conclusions, he also used her phrases and sayings which she had noted for him.

She watched with a kind of pride as Aemond clarified the situation, explaining slowly that everything that had been said was based on mere conjecture without any physical evidence.

After a few hours, the first day of the trial was closed. Aemond said he'd stay with the client, but if she wanted to she could go eat at the restaurant downstairs. She agreed, because she hadn't eaten anything since the morning due to stress and was dying of hunger.

She stood at the counter, staring at a large refrigerator full of all sorts of sandwiches. Someone stopped next to her, and she thought the man was choosing the products as well, but he turned to her suddenly, causing her surprise.

"Your boss is quite a beast." Said the man she recognized as the prosecutor.

Up close she found him handsome. He had slightly curly, short black hair, dark, large eyes, and something about his smile that would make you uneasy. She thought he was a few years younger than Aemond. She turned her head, looking at him curiously, wondering what he wanted.

"I know." She answered softly and lingeringly, smiling with an inscrutable expression on her face.

They stood side by side, just staring at each other, she could feel the tension between them. She thought that he wanted to spin her a little, maybe take her to the room for a one-time fuck and get a few words out of her about Aemond, so he'd know how to attack him or just to annoy him.

"Are you his assistant?" He asked suddenly, taking a sip of coffee from the disposable cup in his hand. She smiled even wider at his words.

"Not completely." She spoke truthfully.

The prosecutor raised his eyebrows at her words in amusement, tilting his head. He pursed his lips and opened them with a soft, wet click. She could see that he was analyzing something in his head now.

"Interesting." He grunted low, narrowing his eyes.

She thought he was quite a player. That if it weren't for Aemond she might have been tempted. But the only person she wanted to spend the night with was him. She opened her mouth to say something, but his low, cool voice sounded behind her.

"Any problem?" He asked, looking at prosecutor as if he wanted to tear him apart for daring to speak to her. The prosecutor smiled warmly at him, unfazed by his tone of voice.

"No. We were just talking. You have a wonderful assistant." He said, looking her up and down. She knew he was doing it on purpose and somehow it amused her.

“My craving for sandwiches is gone.” She said, walking past him, not paying attention to what Aemond would do.

She walked over to the cupcake stand and saw Aemond say something quickly to prosecutor out of the corner of her eye. He skirted him and headed for the stairs without even waiting for her. She sighed softly as she handed the bill to the clerk, knowing he was furious.

She knocked on his room, eating the rest of the cupcake she had just bought. No one answered and she sighed softly as she sat down on the floor, leaning against his door.

"I'll stay here until you open." She said loudly as she continued eating. She heard someone move in the room, then a key turned in the lock and the door flew open. He looked down at her with an indifferent expression, his gaze cold.

"Do you always have to make such a show of yourself?" He asked impatiently. She frowned as she stood up, swallowing the last bite of her quick meal.

"What have I done to deserve such words?" She asked with slight resentment.

He stared at her enraged, his lips pressed into a line. She moved closer to him, their bodies almost touching. His face remained stone. She was touched by how easily he became jealous of her.

"You know what." He spoke short and low, menacing. She put her hand on his shirt and felt him flinch. She ran her fingers over his chest, looking him straight in the face.

"I don't know. Haven't I been good for you, sir?" She asked softly, her bottom lip slightly parted.

She needed it, she needed him to fuck her, to feel his desperation and desire, to feel him deep inside her. She heard him swallow hard.

He suddenly closed the door behind her and pressed her against it, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, licking and sucking her, not allowing her to catch her breath.

She began to quickly unbutton his shirt, continuing to kiss him, his hands quickly pulling her turtleneck over her head. Especially for him she put on her lovely cream lace lingerie, sweet and alluring at the same time. He took a deep breath as he saw her bra through which her pink nipples showed slightly.

He lifted her by the hips and carried her deeper into the room, her hands intertwined in his hair, her legs clasped around his waist. He threw himself on the bed with her, massaging her lips with his with a loud, wet click, their kisses one, big mess.

They both unzipped their pants quickly, Aemond moaning low as she immediately removed his boxers. He lay down on top of her, panting heavily with her, both of them on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the frustrations and tension that they were building up between them.

In one swift motion he took off her panties, spreading her thighs in front of him. His thumb brushed over her entry, causing her to arch back with a sweet moan, her juices dripping onto the sheets beneath her.

"He's got you so wet?" He asked low, dangerously, excitingly. She felt her insides tighten at the tone of his voice, commanding and uncompromising. She shook her head, breathing fast, her thighs quivering with thirst.

"N-no, of course not, sir" She mumbled, looking pleadingly at him, her hands clenched helplessly on the pillow beneath her head.

Her body quivered all over, her mouth parting more as he ran his fingers over her quivering, hot womanhood, teasing her clit casually, making her squeal softly beneath him each time. He smiled at the sight, but it was a disturbing smile to say the least.

"You like to play with men, don't you? You like it when they want you." He hissed, his thumb circling once in a while around her clit, giving her a hard, one-time sensation, pausing each time her thighs pushed out toward him for more. She looked at him innocently, her breasts rising and falling restlessly, her whole body trembling.

"I only want you, Aemond, please" She whispered, for some reason, shocked, she felt tears well up in her eyelids.

Frustration, thirst, and helplessness made her want to cry. Seeing this, he stopped suddenly, hesitation on his face. Her lower lip trembled of its own accord, a single tear slid from the corner of her eye onto the pillow.

She saw his gaze soften slowly, his fury receding like clouds dispersing after a storm. His fingers began to massage her more intensively, bolder, finally allowing her to feel the pleasure. She moaned sweetly, her cheeks all red. His mouth dropped open at the sight.

"It's okay. You know I'll take care of you. Do you have to drive me crazy every time?" He asked with irony and frustration, his finger slid inside her suddenly, causing her to lean back with a loud moan of surprise. He rubbed her in a wonderful spot that sent heat through her body, her hips involuntarily responding to his every move.

"I won't anymore, I promise, I promise I'll make you feel so good" She sobbed with pleasure and desire.

She clamped one hand on his shoulder, looking pleadingly at him, his fingers rubbing her cruelly slowly and thoroughly, his head tilted as if in curiosity as he looked at her.

"Please, put him in me already" She mumbled, all red with embarrassment and the heat that was rushing through her body.

His eye lit up dangerously in satisfaction at her words. He hummed appreciatively, pressing his lips together, running his tongue over them.

"I'm not sure you've learned your lesson right yet. I think I need to show you what awaits you if you flirt with other men again." He grunted lowly, taking her thighs in his hands, lifting them slightly.

He leaned over her, his tongue running from her entrance all the way to her clit, making her sob with desire. Her pussy throbbed all over his face, aching with thirst. She felt him smile under his breath, his tongue slowly and carefully licking her moisture that flowed from her with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, sir, please" She moaned helplessly, her fingers tangling hard in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him more.

"Take what I give you." He growled, his tongue sliding in and out of her, teasing her, driving her crazy.

His hands gripped her thighs painfully tight, not allowing her to move. He licked her with the wet, sticky click of her juices, building more and more tension in her. She felt that even if he only touched her like this, she would come.

"So desperate already?" He asked, panting with desire himself, seeing how he affected her, what a mess she was. She moaned softly at his words, trembling all over.

"Yes, please, I need you so much" She sputtered helplessly, writhing under him, her hips pressing against his face, unable to stop herself. She felt a shiver run through him at her words.

He rose suddenly, turning her over onto her stomach in one firm motion, lifting her hips high, pulling them close to him. She moaned loudly, her hands clenching the sheet as he suddenly slid his cock deep into her, filling her to the very end.

He immediately began to move inside her, fast and hard, panting and moaning with her, defeated. He didn't have the strength to pretend that he didn't need it himself, that he hadn't just dreamed about it for weeks.

"I'm gonna fuck you all night long. Do you understand? I'll cum in you as many times as I want." He hissed, his hands clenched painfully tight on his buttocks, his thighs slapping lewdly against hers with a wet slap, sweat pouring down their bodies with the effort.

His words made her shiver. She tensed up so that he was rubbing her where she most enjoyed it. Her hips responded greedily to his thrusts, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. She felt her impending fulfillment, heat melting in her lower belly.

"Y-yes, please, please, fuck me!" She sobbed sweetly, helplessly, his thrusts getting more brutal and faster, both of them gasping loudly, as if they were running in a sprint.

She suddenly felt her whole body tense, her voice stuck in her throat. She parted her lips, and after a moment, a broken, loud moan of fulfillment escaped them, her insides tightening painfully on him, making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck!" He panted with a loud groan as he cum hard, his warm seed gushing inside her, filling her all over, his cock throbbing greedily inside her. "Here you go, babygirl. All my semen, just for you"

"Oh, God, yes" She moaned blissfully, her thighs moving with him a moment longer, wanting to prolong their pleasure.

After a moment he rolled her onto his side and hugged her from behind, burying his face in her hair, his slowly softening cock still deep inside her. Both of them were breathing heavily, unable to calm down, trembling all over.

"Rest for a while." He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over her ear, her soft purr answering him. "It's going to be a rough night for you."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

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[missmeasured]

Merry Rickmas everybody! I’d like to throw this in, even though I’m late for the prompt. Under the category of Restless Waiting I have a Hans Gruber/Reader smut for y’all.

You are a new lawyer who is being blackmailed by Hans Gruber and forced to work for him in the weeks leading up to his heist. Temporarily living together in a penthouse apartment that faces the Nakatomi Tower, you sometimes forget he’s a criminal. He prefers to remind you.

Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 2300 | Pairing: Hans Gruber/ You (Reader has breasts and a vagina)

Content Warning Tags: Blackmail, shoplifting, Heist planning, Non consensual touching, Fingering, Vaginal Sex

Read below the cut:

Restless Waiting - Rickmas 2023 - Hans Gruber

You had gotten used to being woken in the night with his requests. Working for Hans, living in this apartment while he worked on his plan, was an all hours kind of job. However, normally it was a sharp knock that stirred you, this time you did not wake at the soft opening of the door, or the lifting of the covers, but jolted into alertness as the weight settled into your bed.

“Sir?” You ask in a panic, please God let it be him and not some intruder.

“I require your assistance,” he used his normal answer and yet as he slunk across your bed the normalcy of the answer seemed not to matter.

“I’ll get some clothes,” you begin and try to leave from the other side, but his hands take your hips, clad only in some cotton underwear, and pull them back toward his own.

“That won’t be necessary. You are perfect as you are.” He answers calmly. Then his fingers start tracing patterns across the flesh of your shoulder blades above your camisole and you shiver to think what assistance he is asking for tonight.

You knew he was not a good man, in the moral way. He was not opposed to using violence to get what he wants. You yourself are here because he is blackmailing you. You would lose your law career if he told on you about your prolific shoplifting spree you went on after a bout of depression at the end of law school. How he knew about it, you were not sure. You had changed your name since then, covered your tracks as best you could. Yet the evidence remained, and with his folder of evidence your employers would also have no difficulty connecting the dots.

The fingers of a not morally good man swirling around the skin on one’s back, were complicated. On one hand, you were not an idiot, men like him often take what they want in this way. So your body tensed, too aware of being prey, all the nights you had slumbered here unmolested had lulled you into a false sense of security perhaps. On the other hand, he was a handsome man. Quite charming. Too many times you had felt yourself forget that he was a criminal, who was blackmailing you into helping him dot the i’s and cross the t’s on his plan. He planned on killing. You knew all of this explicitly and still there were moments.

Mornings of sharing cups of coffee, when he was not questioning you about the legal intricacies of different foreign bank accounts or corporate documents, sometimes he would just ask you questions about yourself and really listen to the answer. In those conversations you felt yourself forget who he really was. You cursed the little butterflies in your stomach and squashed them with the remembrance that he was your blackmailer.

“What do you want, Hans?” You ask, you need to be clear about what is happening here. To know what to expect. Are you being asked to pay the blackmailer with your body now?

“It’s funny… my plan… it’s all coming to fruition and now… all this waiting. It makes me unsettled.” He answers. It is not an answer.

“And… how can I help?” You ask the dark, his hand begins slipping up and down your waist and over your hip, on its way back he lets it go under your camisole. Your breath hitches but the hand stays near your waist, he doesn't move to grope you.

“The holiday… it makes me feel… lonesome. Funny how your childhood has a way of rearing its ugly head when you think you are so big and impervious to it all. So I find myself… seeking your company.”

“Christmas… is a strange time for a lot of people.” You whisper back, unsure what to say.

“Take off this top. I want to draw on your whole back.” He instructs in a whisper. His fingertips swirl again, under your shirt now. To say no, and be told it was mandatory felt too uncomfortable. You didn’t want to think of this as happening as part of your blackmail, so you lifted yourself up to slide out of the camisole without argument, telling yourself you wanted the handsome man to draw on your back anyway. You told yourself to pretend you had met him at a cafe. Come home with him of your own accord.

“So much…. Waiting… so much wanting… perhaps I am a child waiting for Saint Nicholas all over again. Only this time… I wait for a much bigger present. Freedom.” He muses as he maps out the planes of your bare back while you clutch the covers close to your chest. “Then again, I am sure you also… are restless… waiting for your own freedom. From me.”

“I was more restless in the beginning. Now I have accepted it. Just a few more days, and you’ll be somewhere in paradise and I’ll… go back to work,” you answer.

“Perhaps I shall send you a plane ticket… have you come so that I might do this in sun cream…” he muses.

“I’m sure there will be a lovely lady with a lovely back where you are going.” You try to shut this down, because just then your mind was too eager to jump at the chance. The idea of not working anymore was too pleasant. But you were too clever to jump at being the mistress of a criminal. You would live at his whim, feeling like he owned you. You would lose all the progress of your hard fought career, and what if one day he just called it off? Better not to dream at all.

“I’ve grown quite fond of you, this month.” His lips seem too close to your ear. “My clever girl. So helpful.”

“You are a very charming blackmailer.” You answer in a whisper, too excited about the change in his tone, the weight of his pressing hands, and how one has gone back to your waist and made the pilgrimage over your hip and down your thigh.

“Charming?” He did that laugh where he made a single grunt of chuckle in his throat and pushed air through his nose, it tickled your neck. “Charming enough… to ask for more? I confess, I came in here thinking if I can blackmail you to work for me, I can blackmail you to snuggle away the Christmas woe, the relentless waiting, and yet… I do confess I want more. But… I don’t want your body as blackmail. You’d have to give it of your own free will.” His fingers swirled over the fronts of your thighs, sending wanting to your core in their wake.

You did not know what to say, but the more his fingers made swirls of goosebumps as if they were the winter wind inside the warmth of your covers, the harder it was not to show your arousal inside your breath.

“Well… can I have my pretty lawyer for Christmas?” He was impatient, waiting for your answer, his fingers so close to touching your panties you were aching with the need of it. His beard scratched against your bare back, he was kissing you softly there between your shoulder blades.

“Yes.” You whispered. He ended your waiting, immediately. He cupped your sex and pulled you tighter against him, suddenly his hard cock pressed against you. Had it been there behind you the whole time, pointing, reaching, not touching?

You moaned. You were letting him, your blackmailer, do this to you. Where were your senses? His beard scratched you while his lips clamped down to suck on your neck. Pain twisting with pleasure, like what you should do, and should not do. You should not be excited by the man who has threatened your livelihood, not yearn for the stiffness that pressed against your ass.

His fingers wormed under your panties, feeling for your entrance and finding it quickly. He laughs into your ear from behind. “I didn’t know I was this charming,” he teases. “So wet…” he pushes in with two fingers, making you cry out. “Tell me… did your pussy get this wet when you were stealing?” He was bringing up a dark time, a bad memory, twisting it with your pleasure. There was no fighting how good his fingers felt inside you. “That’s why I chose you, you know. My little thief. I know that you know… the rush I am chasing.”

Your response was only sounds, wanton, craving sounds while he talked and plunged his fingers in and out, with every pass of them you felt yourself dripping around them, almost embarrassed by how eager your body was for him. “You try to be such a good girl now. Different name.. revised history… but I think helping me steal all this money…. Turns you on. I think you are excited.” He ground his excitement into you and you clenched around his fingers thinking about having it inside you.

He stopped, withdrew, and tossed back the covers, plunging you into the chilly night air. He sat up, pulled you over onto your back, eyes feasting on your breasts. “I’ve been wondering what’s under your clothes… what a beautiful canvas to shoplift on. I bet these nipples looked so pretty under stolen lace. I bet this…” He put his hand down to her core again and brushed a thumb over her mound “left lovely silky wetness right in the middle of every stolen pair of panties.” He hooked his fingers in and stole your last bit of clothing.

In the moonlight you saw he had on an open button down shirt on and a pair of navy blue boxers that tented in the middle. He saw you look, and smirked as he pulled the length from below the waistband, letting it go above, an eager rock hardness, bobbing up and down as he let the thing swing. He looked so good, so handsome, and partly undressed, that beautiful cock the cherry on top, you opened your legs for him.

He knelt between your legs and guided the tip into your folds, slipping it up and down, lubing himself in your excitement. Every time he rubbed your clit with it you couldn’t help but moan for him, making you sound whoreishly eager for his coming penetration. But you liked it when he smirked at your noises.

He lined up the tip and nestled it into your opening. He raised and lowered his hips with maddening slowness, easing the length of it inside you tiny bit by tiny bit, relishing in your gasps, your hips lifting, trying to take more of him than he would allow at once. “You are… a very…mmmm… good Christmas gift… my little thief… you are…. So wet… “ He slowly said while he fucked himself into you with such erotic slowness you thought you would explode when it reached his full girth.

“I bet when I’m long gone with all my money you will touch yourself to these memories. At your boring job. Your pussy will be throbbing around your fingers when you think about helping me steal all that money…” He told you, and you knew he was right. You had been enjoying helping him.

You were so swollen, so needy, every pass of his cock was scratching a desperate itch. You didn’t even know you needed it. Had wanted it. He put his hands under your knees and pushed your legs back, crunching your body up under him as he began fucking you faster. He must have sensed you were about to come, because he slowed to a stop with a mischievous look. “Let me catch up with you, naughty girl.” You moan at his teasing, as he goes slow again with a maddening rhythm .

“I like this.” He sighed over your face as casually fucks you, letting you stay on the edge. “Respectable girl with bad girl past still likes being fucked like a naughty girl, doesn’t she? Because that’s who you are… inside.” He has pegged you with deadly accuracy. It seems to give him pleasure to have caught out the truth about you. He speeds up again.

He’s too right, you haven’t felt so alive in months, and no man has felt as good inside you as this criminal mastermind does. It all washes over you. The feelings, the truths of it all, the pleasure more than anything. Then you are starting your climax and he is chasing his own, pushing harder and deeper into you.

It’s like being outside of yourself, watching him fuck you till he comes. How when he begins to feel his climax coming he abandoned his slow, talkative approach and tossed his head back in open mouthed pleasure as he slams himself in to the hilt over and over again. His breathy noises, his groans on the air, make your growing orgasm unbeleivably strong, your legs shake as he fucks you.

He pulls himself out only at the last possible second as his cock instantly explodes all over your curled up form beneath him. You enjoyed his grunts a little too much as he used his hand to spend the last himself across your breasts.

It was only after that you had your first kiss with the man. The damn butterflies came back. “I don’t think the waiting is going to be so hard anymore… with such a lovely distraction.” He smiled as he cleaned you. “Not with my little thief stealing my attention.” He teased.

As he tucked you into his arms for the night suddenly the few days before the heist seemed like they would be too short. Your impending freedom loomed too imminent. You would be restlessly trying not to think about how fast Christmas was coming, knowing it would mark the end of your time with him. Unless you accepted that plane ticket offer after all.

[phoenixyfriend]

This is a bit of a silly question, but you honestly seem to know a lot about political, business, and economics, so I thought I would ask.

So I’m seventeen, soon to be applying to universities, but I’m already so disillusioned with the world. Like, don’t get me wrong, I still have hope in collective action and volunteering and voting and all that, it just makes me sad that the entire world has kind of gone to hell. I like english literature and I like history and I like studying them, so I used to hop to study both at uni. I wanted to get a job as a teacher, because I want to make a difference in the world and have more variety than a typical desk job.

However. Being on Tumblr since the age of thirteen has taught me that no matter how kind or good or hardworking one person is, or even a lot of people are, one politician can still screw things up for entire groups of people. I mean… a few politicians overturned Roe Vs Wade and that sort of thing. The disability benefits bank account thing. Politicians have an enormous amount of sway over the world, and that area seems to be where someone could make the most difference.

From what I’ve seen of a political science degree, I genuinely don’t think I would enjoy it much, but I could get through it. I want to make a difference in the world very badly — it’s the only sort of legacy I care about leaving behind. And I thought being a teacher could do that for me, but the scale of being a teacher and a politician are on entirely different levels, and Tumblr has really shown me that.

So I guess I’m just asking, since you seem to be passionate making the world better too. Do you think I should study politics, so that I can try and change things on a large scale? Or study what I love and make a much smaller impact.

I honestly don't think I'm the best person to ask this question. A lot of how I ended up where I am was a matter of luck, including the luck of having parents who let me live with them rent free while I put together some savings (and even while I was unemployed).

I don't know a whole lot about polisci. I was a business major and, honestly, that major did not come in useful when hunting for a job after college... partly because all the jobs it was a foot in the door for were uhhhhhh let's go with Not The Right Fit. Most polisci majors are... I guess probably pre-law and intending to become lawyers, and lawyers do in fact often become politicians, so there's that.

My first instinct is actually 'learn a trade and join a union.' The last few years have been pretty evidential of the impact that unions can still have on both the business world and politics in general: see the impact that UAW is having, at least in the media, on the presidential election. Unions are also a pretty solid option for local networking, which is pretty key when it comes to having an impact on local or regional politics. A trade job is also something that is in high demand, stable, and pays reasonably well in most places, including paid apprenticeships, so it would give you the financial stability to focus your free time on what you want instead of on stretching to pay the bills, or having to worry about student loans. It also gives you an expertise or specialty that you can then leverage as 'evidence' of understanding the working class as a unit when engaging in something like a town hall.

Being in a union or other local organization will also give you a more hands-on understanding of how politics and things like that work, as you'll have things like contract negotiations, union votes, and policy debates going on regularly.

If you aren't the kind of person who thinks they're a fit for trade work (I'm definitely not), then college might be the right fit! But I'd definitely consider going into it with a plan for how you want to impact the world. Look up some charities or impact organizations and see what it is that they need. A lot of places are looking for grants writers or financial coordinators, or just someone who can do the accounting. It's not glamorous, and it's not like you'll be held up as a hero the way a doctor in a warzone is, but keeping track of funds or writing letters requesting funding from the government, for something like Doctors Without Borders or Planned Parenthood or Coalition for the Homeless is still an important part of the process.

Local volunteer work is also often a lot more personally satisfying and requires less overhead, so more of the money goes directly into the community you want to help, e.g. the grant writers and accountants do need a salary in a huge organization, but a local soup kitchen can probably just hire someone from the local tax office once every few months and call it good. Doing volunteer work once a month, for a soup kitchen or a homeless shelter or summer childcare program, can make way more of an impact than maybe getting a position as a staffer for a politician you may not even like that much.

That said, if you think you're good at polisci, that you'd be good at law, or that you can get a different degree with polisci as a minor that would then help you enter politics directly... maybe college for polisci is the right choice for you. Maybe you have the finances to not worry about loans, you have parents that would be supportive, and you can find an effective position after you graduate.

I can't make that decision for you. If you have a guidance counselor and they're any good--not a guarantee, but let's hope--talk to them. If you don't have a guidance counselor, maybe find a trusted teacher, or a local librarian, something like that. I don't really know you or your situation well enough to tell you what to do, but hopefully I've given you something to think about.

[genderqueerdykes]

Hi, I am looking for some advice and I don’t know who else to turn to, so I’m sending this here in hopes you may be able to provide some guidance! If not that is totally okay.

I am a disabled trans man in the southern US who is trying to access hormone replacement therapy. Unfortunately I do not qualify for disability aid despite having multiple genuinely disabling conditions. I am forced to work to survive and most of my earnings must go towards keeping me housed. I do not qualify for any sort of government insurance like Medicaid or Medicare, so I am currently uninsured and don’t know when if ever I will be able to access insurance.

Even buying generic brands or using coupons through GoodRX, it looks like testosterone will still be too expensive for me to afford. After my bills are paid, I am usually left with under $100 a month to survive on. I’m talking ramen, eggs, and bulk frozen veggies kind of diet. I certainly could not afford to spend $50-60 per month on testosterone gel or injections, much less the doctors appointments and blood work that will be required for me to even obtain the proper prescription.

I was wondering if you may have any advice for folks like me? People who are too poor to afford insurance, but make too much to afford government aid? I have been denied disability two separate times, each process was uniquely challenging and painful in their own ways.

I truly want to start living as myself. At this point, I don’t know if it will ever be possible.

Thank you so much for your time and consideration. Hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourselves.

hey there, i'm so sorry that's going on for you, that's horrible, you have my condolences

i'm in a similar boat. the first question on my mind is did/do you have a disability lawyer? a disability lawyer is required in the US if you don't have a condition that isn't terminal or cancer- they make everyone appeal in court. if you've done this already, i'm so sorry

diagnoses can be hard to get for a lot of people, especially the ones that are the bigger problems that would be more "qualifying" for disability. second opinions are hard to get, and i know that explaining our conditions to jaded doctors, it often falls on uncaring ears. what i would recommend is trying to keep track of whatever medical documents you get no matter from where or from what and continue building your case for disability down the road. if your condition progresses to get worse, you have more evidence for your case in the future. it get sucks to bad to get denied but you can still try again in the future

insurance is a real bitch because i know so many people who ride that cusp too. some of my neighbors are right there in the middle where they don't qualify because they make slightly too much and i think thats bullshit. i would say first of all, for food, utilize your local food banks as MUCH as possible, and i mean that. google to see how many places to food distribution in your area. go to or contact your local library and they will be able to give you information on it right away. you are allowed to pick up from multiple food banks if you have more than one

for medication, what i would do is see if there is any type of trans resource center in your area, or an lgbt resource in a college or other type of establishment. if not check reddit, facebook or instagram to see if there are any other queer organizations in your area that can help you find clinicians who can help you get cheaper testosterone. if your doctor writes you a prior authorization and if you're able to get a pharmacist who runs discount cards for every patient, you may be able to afford it a little easier. it's shitty how people have to jump through hoops. when i paid out of pocket it was $150

planned parenthood is probably your best bet for looking into hormones right away- i know they have a lot of resources and may be able to help you afford it or find ways to get help with that. if you have access to a planned parenthood in your area, reach out to them right away and see if they can start getting you help with that

there are housing programs in some area that give people access to housing programs for low income disabled people that do not require the recipient to be on disability, but rather have a disability diagnosed. you may be able to quality for section 8 or subsided housing if you have a disability diagnosis, or can get one, and are low income. these are usually wait lists but they will pay off down the road if these programs exist where you are at

st. vincent de paul organizations and some catholic churches have charities and other organizations where they can pay for people's rent, utilities, bills, groceries, and so on, depending on your area and the funding. often times churches have food distribution events at them as well as events where they help people sign up for resources they may not have had access to previously

see about contacting local homeless shelters. they have resources for people in all kinds of crises and situations, they will give you information about food distribution, financial aid with bills, rent, and income, programs you may qualify for through them or other organizations that are not through the government. they can help you find access to cheap or no cost case management as well which can be invaluable. don't feel bad about utilizing some of these resources, you don't need to be in the shelter to get links, papers or phone numbers for people who help folks in your situation

anyone who is in this situation please feel free to help this anon, i am currently not in this situation but i know how hard it is for people to deal with this. it's unfair

good luck, take care of yourself for the time being

[svnnshincs]

kim chungha, pansexual, woman, she / her. ♡ now entering the apartment building is jeon juri, a twenty eight year old who is currently a doctor in residency. netizens have said they seem anxious but others have said they’re driven ! gossip aside, we’re sure they’re bound to be a fan favorite ! ♡

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . BASICS

Name :: Jeon Juri Age :: twenty - eight Gender && Pronouns :: cis woman && she / her Sexuality :: pansexual Occupation :: doctor in residency Birthdate :: january 18th Birthplace :: incheon, south korea

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . PHYSICAL

Height :: 5’6” Build :: petite, slim Markings :: none of note Scars :: a few littering her arms & legs thanks to her clumsiness Body Mods :: pierced earlobes Faceclaim :: kim chungha

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . PERSONALITY

the local goody - two shoes. she's got a thing for following the rules and even the thought of doing something that she shouldn't gives her so much anxiety.

compulsive fixer. she cannot stop herself from trying her best to fix other people's problems. it tends to lead to her simply exhausting herself and makes her an easy target for people wanting to take advantage of her.

she puts her all into everything she does, no matter how much she really doesn't want to do it.

absolute people pleaser, she can't tell people no. It stems from her need for approval, to impress those around her and the fear of disappointing everyone around them.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . HISTORY

Juri is the middle child of five siblings ( a rarity in south korea ). Being the most mild mannered child, she was often seen as someone that didn’t need a lot of extra attention vs siblings who acted out in delinquency, or those who had extracurricular events.

She quickly internalized this observation, and made a point to be the Jeon child that didn’t need help, the one that always had acceptable grades and didn’t cause trouble. Because that’s what others began expecting of her, and she had to uphold those expectations.

The ‘fix-it’ sibling. If her other siblings had a problem, they would often rely on Juri to help them fix it. Often times they would just dump things on her, citing her helpful nature as their reason for leaving her to handle their problems. Unfortunately, her compulsive people pleasing nature kept her from complaining about this.

Her choice of study ( neuroscience ) didn’t come from an actual interest in the field, but instead from the pressure to impress. With the pressure a sister who married up, lawyer brother and two younger siblings that became idol trainees ( one who has since debuted ) she couldn't just take her time to figure out what she wanted to do in life, and instead picked up whatever she thought would be most impressive while still fitting into her persona.

Uni was supposed to be an escape for her, but mostly left her feeling miserable. Trapped in a path that she didn't exactly find fufillment in, studying day in and day out, helping out her friends without complaint and working at a convenience store to keep her bank account from tanking kept her from finding enjoyment in her newfound adulthood.

This was, however when she finally began coming to terms with her sexuality, and the fact that she was attracted to women. She dated around for a little while, before settling into a pretty serious relationship that she had to hide away from her friends and family. It lasted for about two years, before the pressure of hiding the relationship tore the two apart.

At the moment, she is in her masters program and working through her residency in the emergency room at Gangbuk Samsung Hospital. While she finds that helping people is fufilling, she still can't quite shake the feeling that becoming a neurosurgeon is for her. That being said, she doesn't know what is for her and continues on out of an absolute fear of disappointing everyone.

Her participation in seoulmates is the first time that she is publicly acknowledging her sapphic side. It's something that she very much fears, but the idea of not conforming to society's view of her is kind of thrilling.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . CONNECTIONS

ex girlfriend. crush. somone to encourage her to come out of her shell / "bad influence". someone to turn to when the world is too heavy. someone who takes advantage of her kindness ( on purpose or not ).

[bellysoupset]

Ooooh, given that Leo can cook and Jonah can't...how about he plans a romantic dinner date and accidentally gives them both food poisoning 😈 sometimes fish can have toxins in that will make you sick no matter how well you cook it, but you can't see/smell/taste them to avoid

Oh my! This ended up huge as double food poisoning always does. I'd kill for Leo and I'm pretty sure so would Jon. Thank you for this request it was awesome to write!!

--------------

Cooking for Jonah had been a bold idea, one that Leo was regretting with how nervous he was for his boyfriend's reaction. Jon was one of the most annoying people when it came to food. His picky eating was mild, but what was hard about him was the fact he ate only in the best places. Places that Leo's humble cooking couldn't live up to.

Leo would never say it out loud, but he held Jon's opinion with the highest esteem, so while the compliments were nice, he only truly started to feel accomplished when he watched his boyfriend go for seconds. And then thirds. Leo wasn't sure he had ever seen Jonah go for thirds, not even in the fancy restaurants they went on dates.

He frowned, holding the spoon out of Jon's reach "are you eating so you won't hurt my feelings?"

Jonah snorted, "Fuck your feelings, give me the spoon. This is delicious."

"It's just... Okay," Leo shrugged, plating his boyfriend's third serving, while he still pushed around his own. He had been so nervous about whatever Jonah would think that he had only eaten about half of his first serving so far.

"Wherever did you learn how to cook?" Jonah groaned, eyes closed as he pushed the fish around his plate with the fork, in order to get it covered in cream.

"The poor know how to cook too, Dr. Banks," Leo teased, before shaking his head, "I had to learn how to feed myself young and then I realized that I quite enjoyed it, so..." he shrugged, "I don't know how to make anything fancy, though."

"This is plenty fancy," Jonah mumbled, cheeks puffed as he chewed, "really, Leo, consider dropping out of law and opening a restaurant."

Leo rolled his eyes, cheeks burning, "now you're just egging me on. I'm a way better lawyer than a cook."

"I never saw you lawyer anything," Jon shrugged, "but I have now eaten your food."

"Then eat, stop talking," he scoffed, squirming in his seat. Jonah's eyes lit up with mischief.

"Can't take a compliment?" he asked, voice brimming with happiness, "my boyfriend is a fucking amazing chef, a hottie, a lawyer, a football star-"

"Shut uuuup."

"Adorable too-"

"I'm not listening to you anymore," Leo jammed his fingers in his ears, much like a toddler and Jonah let out a laugh, surprised and genuine.

"Take the damn compliment!"

"Stop talking!"

He was still giddy, feeling a little dazed in cloud nine when they put the dishes away and crawled into bed. Jonah rolled flat on his back, planting a hand on his stomach.

"I ate too much," he grumbled, but he didn't seem upset about it, just stating a fact, "I'd eat more if I could."

"You are being ridiculous," Leo's cheeks were hurting from smiling, as he moved down on the bed, fishing his laptop out of his bag. Jonah didn't have a tv in his room, he was firm believer it was evil, so despite the giant flatscreen in the living room, they watched most of their shows in Leo's laptop that was held up by duct tape.

"Uhm, I don't think so," Jonah groaned, tugging on the elastic of his pajama bottoms and pushing it down. Leo raised his eyebrows, while his Netflix loaded, noticing how bloated his boyfriend's stomach was.

"You really overdid, uh?" he couldn't help the smugness. Jonah rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, a trophy?" he shoved Leo's arm gently, before shifting on the bed and pressing his cheek to the blonde's bicep, "where were we?"

"Rio was being tortured," Leo answered, pressing his cheek to the top of his boyfriend's head and getting comfortable as they started a new episode of Money Heist.

Not even twenty minutes later Jonah shifted again, peeling off of him and rolling on his back. Leo paused, "Jon?"

"Gotta burp, keep playing," now the breathy amusement had finally melted off his voice and it was back to its normal roughness. Leo didn't keep playing.

"Do you have a stomachache?"

"To the surprise of no one," Jonah said bitterly, "I did just eat my weight in fish and cream."

Leo nodded, putting the laptop away on the bedside table, "scoot down, let me rub your tummy."

"No," Jonah shook his head, grimacing as he thumped on his chest and managed to force up a deep, wet belch, "don't touch it, you'll make it worse."

Leo pouted, cringing in sympathy, "do you think tums would help?"

Again he shook his head no, sitting up on the bed and fanning himself. Jonah had sweat clinging to his forehead, Leo noticed.

"Babe... Are you sick?" he planted a hand on his boyfriend's forehead, but there was no fever, "talk to me, what can I do? Would tea help...?"

"No," Jonah hugged his knees, rocking back and forth, "I feel sick, I don't wanna drink anything else."

Leo bit his tongue, worriedly mulling over what he could possibly do to help. While he thought it over, Jonah leaned against the headboard, burping deeply in his fist and groaning.

"Babe, I think we should move this to the bathroom, that didn't sound good..." Leo decided, grabbing Jon's elbow but not forcing him to move. His answer was Jonah nodding in agreement, but not moving, only gulping down again.

There was another wet burp, this one Jonah didn't even bother trying to muffle, his hand moving down to his naked belly. It was puffy, sitting right over the elastic of his pajamas bottom and Leo cringed in sympathy as he heard a whine.

"Jon, c'mon..." Leo urged him, holding his bicep, "up."

With a little effort he managed to get Jonah inside the bathroom and crouching down in front of the toilet. Jon seemed almost out of it with the nausea, forehead pressing to the cold porcelain, "fuck, Leo... I really don't feel well..."

"Just get it up, it's too much food in your poor tummy," Leo explained, rubbing a hand steadily up Jonah's back. The man shuddered, squeezing the toilet.

"No," he spat in the water, "no, it feels off. I feel off..."

Leo felt a chill run down his spine as he considered another possibility: he had given him food poisoning.

He touched Jonah's forehead, but met clammy skin, no heat. Leo gulped down, suddenly nauseous with the idea. Jonah let out another groan and moved forward, bracing the toilet, back arching with a horrible retch.

Leo heard a little moan and then liquid hitting the water, a lot of it. He gulped down, rubbing Jon's naked back, "you're doing great, babe, just get it out..." he mumbled, through numb lips. Anxiety prickled him all over.

Jonah coughed, then reached in with a shaky hand, pressing the flush. His belly was still just as bloated and just as sick, emitting the loudest noises in the quiet bathroom, except for Jon's pained breathing.

"I still feel sick," he groaned, not even bothering to pull away from the bowl, "I don't feel better at all..."

"Jon..." Leo said against his own will. Mentally he started chanting shut up shut up shut up- "could it be food poisoning...?"

Jonah didn't pull back, he only turned his head, cheek resting on the toilet's seat. His hazel eyes zeroed Leo and he quirked an eyebrow, "you tell me, Leo."

Fuck.

Leo felt a whole new wave of nausea and anxiety, "I- I don't know... I did everything right, I swear, I- I cooked the fish, I cleaned it, I used different- different boards... I checked the expiration dat-uurhgp-" he interrupted himself with a retch and Leo slammed a hand over his mouth. The last thing he wanted was to make Jon vomit because he was sick too.

Jonah was frowning at him and Leo shook his head, feeling horrible in all senses of the word, "Jon, please say something-"

Jon didn't answer him, except for turning his head and burping up another gush of pale vomit into the water. He panted, eyes squeezed shut, puke still clinging to his bottom lip, "Leo."

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Leo," Jonah sighed, then gagged again and spat a mouthful of drool, "Leo, calm down."

He couldn't calm down, he had just given his boyfriend food poisoning and after he had eaten all that, after he had praised it so much-

Leo let out a whimper, choking up, "I'm so sorry..."

"It's fine," Jonah groaned, leaning over the bowl again, "fuck..." his throat bobbed up and down and he belched. He removed a hand from the toilet bowl, cradling his stomach and squeezing up another burp.

"Here, let me-" Leo fought to keep his voice steady, scooting up closer and planting his hand over Jonah's, rubbing wide circles. He expected at least a snappish response, but all he got was a sick groan, followed by the noise of liquid rushing up the man's throat.

Jonah nearly missed the bowl with the intensity of the gush, barely able to catch his breath in between the bouts of sickness. Leo wasn't even rubbing anymore, it almost felt like he was simply holding Jon, his hand resting over the swell of his stomach and feeling the angry gurgling inside.

Jon coughed, struggling to breath and wiping the tears that had involuntarily run down his cheek, "Leo..." he groaned, reaching for the flush, but missing, "I really don't feel well..."

"I know, babe, I'm so sorry," Leo said, flushing the toilet and grabbing a wad of paper to wipe Jonah's chin. His heart squeezed as he noticed Jon's chest rising and falling, both hands holding his bloated belly.

"It's still churning..."

"Let me rub your tummy," Leo asked, pulling Jon to lie across his lap, "try and get some rest, babe." He knew it was far from over, so did the other man. Jonah groaned, shaking his head as he braced against the toilet again.

"I can't- I can't lie down, it's all in my... My throat-" he gagged and brought up yet another little stream. Leo patted his back gently, turning his face to blow a small airy burp away from Jonah.

His own belly was hurting, but he was fairly certain in his case it was given to the overwhelming guilt crushing him.

The patting worked and Jonah belched again, then another deep burp brought up another huge gush of vomit, enough to cause him to choke and start coughing like crazy. Leo urged him to sit up straight, patting his back.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, breathe Jon..."

After a scary minute where it felt like Jonah might just choke, he slumped against the toilet, spent and exhausted. This time he didn't even attempt to flush, his chest rising and falling.

"Aw..." he groaned, eyes slipping shut, "hurt..."

"Do you think you're done?" Leo flushed the toilet, before crouching down again and cupping Jon's cheek, "hey, Jon?"

"I don't know..." Jonah mumbled, his lips barely opening, as if his jaw was too heavy.

"Okay, we'll sit here for a little bit more," Leo said, tugging on him and Jonah willingly rested his head on his shoulder, resting a hand over his bloated belly.

"What in hell did you do to the food?" he groaned, rubbing little circles and burping, not bothering to try and muffle it. He felt Leo flinch, but couldn't be bothered to reassure him, not when he felt this awful. Instead Jonah just closed his eyes, gingerly cradling his aching belly.

They sat there for the longest time, but just as Leo was about to ask if they could go back to bed, Jonah let out a groan and hiccupped, lurching forward and almost missing the bowl entirely.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing in thickly. He wasn't sure if this was all just anxiety anymore, after all, he had eaten too... Just a lot less than Jonah.

Instead of saying anything, he opted for keeping a steady hand on his boyfriend's back, breathing slowly through his mouth and glaring at his lap. The usual ratty tanktop he wore for bed was clinging to his stomach and Leo tugged at it, not liking one bit the sensation of the fabric hugging him.

"I think I'm done..." Jonah rasped out, grabbing onto the sink to hoist himself up, "I need to lie down, I'm lightheaded."

"You need to drink water," Leo said, flushing after him and filling up a cup, before following Jonah into the room, "c'mon, take just a little sip for me, Jon."

"So you can poison me again?" his boyfriend scoffed, the joke missing its mark my a mile as Leo's heart sunk even further. He couldn't believe he had messed up this badly.

"Just... Just take a sip, I'm gonna grab you a bowl," Leo mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. He felt overwhelmed and sick and his head was throbbing, his stomach was pulsing with nausea and he had fucking poisoned them both.

Leo sniffled, bracing against the laundry room's cabinet, reaching for the bucket. He had made Jonah terribly sick, all because he had wanted to show off and do a fancy dish.

"Leo...?" Jonah called from the room and the blonde sucked in a breath, wiping away the tears from the corner of his eye. No time to be a baby, he could feel guilty and dumb about this tomorrow.

"Here..." He said, planting the bucket right under Jonah's side. His boyfriend didn't even bother looking, an arm thrown over his eyes, blocking the bedroom light, while the other hand was planted to his bloated stomach.

"Turn off the lights," he asked and Leo obeyed, crawling into the bed, only to have Jon groan with the movement and gag again.

"Please don't move the bed, Leo."

"Sorry," he whispered, curling up on his side, "do you want me to-" he touched Jonah's hand over his belly and then felt as the other man pushed his hand away.

"No, I just want to sleep."

"Okay..." Leo forced the words out, blinking quickly to stop the sting of tears in his eyes. He needed to get himself on check.

***

When Jonah woke up again, the room was still pitch dark and his stomach was aching fiercely, rolling from side to side. He let out a groan, turning on his side and blindly reaching for the bucket.

He could still taste the cream and all it took was a weak cough from him in order for the rest of dinner to come up, splashing in the bucket with a disgusting noise. Jonah grunted, gagging as a cramp seized his belly, forcing up another thin stream and then only empty heaves.

Once he was done, spitting the taste out of his mouth, he noticed Leo hadn't said a thing. Had he even woken up?

Jonah lowered the bucket back down, wiping a hand over his face and grabbing the glass of water, as he sluggishly turned around to face Leo... Except his side of the bed was empty.

"Leo?" his voice broke over the one syllable word and Jonah took the smallest sip of water, struggling to get up. He was drenched in cold sweat, it was disgusting. He walked to the bathroom, but it was empty and dark, the door open.

Jonah frowned, all the more confused now. Had Leo left in the middle of the night? Without saying anything?

His stomach gurgled unhappily at all the movement and Jonah muffled a sick burp against his fist, but he knew that by now he was empty, if the sore muscles of his belly meant anything.

"Leo..?" he was so fucking queasy and tired, Jonah felt a pang of anger and hurt at the idea of Leo simply leaving. He walked the rest of the hallway and then frowned, as he noticed a lump on the couch.

Jonah sat down at the foot of the couch, confused as he noticed Leo rolled onto his side, shirtless, just his shoulders going up and down with deep breaths.

"Leo," he called, unsure now if he even should wake him up, but craving the comfort enough that he was willing to be this selfish, "wake up."

It took him a second, Jonah's hand coming to shake his thigh lightly, before Leo groaned and rolled onto his back, rubbing his face, "Jon...? What- Hey..." his voice softened, blue gaze turning all wet and sad, "how are you feeling?"

"Wretched," Jonah answered truthfully, "what are you doing in the couch? Was I moving too much?"

"No, you were fine," Leo shook his head, yawning. Outside, the sun had just started to peak out and Jonah vaguely thought he'd have to call in sick, there was no way he was going anywhere with how sloshy and nauseous he felt, "I just didn't want to wake you up or make you sick again, that's all."

"Make me sick...?" Jonah felt uneasy for a different reason now. He took in the situation, how ghostly white his boyfriend looked, his normally flat belly peaking over his baby blue boxers, the way his blonde hair was matted down by sweat, "oh shit, Leo, are you sick too?"

"I poisoned the food, Jon, what do you think?" Leo snapped back and the sharpness startled them both. Leo cringed at his own tone.

"It was an accident," Jonah frowned, "you didn't mean to do whatever is it that happened to the food, it's fine... Where's your shirt? It's freezing in this living room."

"Laundry," Leo made a face, "I couldn't get up fast enough."

Jon's heart squeezed. Fuck, "you got sick on your shirt? Baby, you should've woken-"

"So you could puke too?" Leo rolled his eyes, leaning forward on his knees and rubbing his temple, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be snapping at you, I just... I feel horrible and I poisoned us both and you were in a state and- And you were mad at me and I get it, because it was my mist-"

"I wasn't mad at you, are you crazy?" Jonah scoffed, moving closer, "I know you didn't mean to make us sick, Leo, don't be stupid... And I know I'm useless when you're sick, but- But I still wanted to be there for you..."

"You seemed mad," Leo shrugged, not meeting his eyes and Jonah shook his head, leaning back against the couch and moving as close as he could with the way his boyfriend was sitting. Which wasn't much, considering Leo had his back to the arm of the couch and his knees drawn up to his chest.

"I wasn't mad, I was just sick," Jonah sighed, squeezing his knee, "are you mad?"

"No," Leo scoffed, then his stomach gurgled unhappily, interrupting them both. He opened a small, pained smile, "okay, maybe a little."

"Why are you angry?" Jonah fought a yawn, planting a hand over his own upset stomach, while the other he kept in his boyfriend's knee, "baby?"

"Just... I was feeling awful and you were angry - Well, you seemed angry," he corrected himself when Jon opened his mouth, "and I know I was the one who poisoned us, so really I shouldn't be demanding anything, but-"

"I'm sorry," Jonah interrupted him, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be a dick to you. I should've realized you weren't feeling well either, I'm sorry."

Leo let out a groan, before moving on the couch and all but throwing himself on Jonah, hugging him tightly, "I'm sorry I made you super sick."

"That was on me for eating three plates," Jonah squeezed him back, grimacing when just the thought made him want to gag, "baby, maybe let go off before I puke again."

"Sorry," Leo sniffled, pulling back, "and I am so-"

"Stop saying that," Jonah cut him off, "how's your stomach?"

"Off," Leo shrugged, "I feel really sick, but I can't seem to vomit. You?"

"Sore, queasy... Empty, tho, I hope," Jonah rubbed the top of his stomach, fingers digging in and coaxing up a little burp, "do you wanna go back to bed? It's freezing here."

Leo bit down on his lip, shaking his head, "I think I'll just stay here. I really don't feel well, so-"

"I don't care," Jon frowned, "please, stop worrying about me, I want- Come to bed."

Leo's face lit up, "are you sure? I'm serious, Jon, I think I'm gonna puke-"

"Whatever," Jonah sighed, "I can't puke anymore anyway, I'm empty. Come to bed, love."

Leo nodded, in the living room that was slowly turning pink, even his greenish pale face looked blushy, "Okay..." he smiled timidly, "alright, let's go back to bed."

[infignito]

The Best Criminal Defense Attorney in Mumbai: Selecting the Best Representative for Your Case

In a bustling city like Mumbai, finding the best lawyer to handle criminal cases is essential for anyone facing serious charges. The stakes in criminal cases are often high, with potential consequences such as imprisonment, fines, and lasting impacts on one’s reputation and life. Whether you are involved in a criminal case, need assistance with bail matters, or are dealing with domestic violence, civil, or banking issues, selecting the right lawyer can significantly affect the outcome of your case. This blog will guide you through finding the best lawyer in Mumbai for criminal matters and how such legal expertise can make a difference.

Why You Need the Best Lawyer in Mumbai for Criminal Matters

Criminal matters can range from minor offenses like theft to major charges such as assault, fraud, or even murder. The best lawyer in Mumbai for criminal matters will have extensive experience handling such cases and a deep understanding of criminal law, including the Indian Penal Code (IPC) and the Criminal Procedure Code (CrPC). They will be well-versed in courtroom procedures and possess excellent skills in building a solid defense strategy.

A skilled criminal lawyer will not only ensure that your rights are protected but will also work to reduce the severity of the charges or achieve an acquittal. They will understand the nuances of the legal system, be adept at cross-examination, and know how to counter the prosecution’s evidence effectively. Having the right lawyer on your side can make the difference between a favorable and an unfavorable outcome.

Qualities of the Best Lawyer in Mumbai for Criminal Matters

Experience with Criminal Law: The best lawyer in Mumbai for criminal matters will have substantial experience in representing clients in various types of criminal cases, including white-collar crimes, violent crimes, drug offenses, and more. They should have a proven track record of handling both minor and major criminal cases successfully.

Thorough Knowledge of the Law: Criminal law is complex and requires a lawyer who is well-versed in statutes, precedents, and procedural rules. The best lawyer will have a deep understanding of the Indian legal system, including laws related to evidence, bail, and sentencing guidelines.

Strategic Defense Planning: A good criminal defense lawyer should be able to build a defense strategy that takes into account the specifics of your case, whether it involves challenging the validity of the evidence, identifying procedural errors, or negotiating a plea deal.

Effective Communication: Criminal cases often involve multiple stakeholders, including judges, prosecutors, and law enforcement. The best criminal lawyer will be able to communicate persuasively, whether in negotiations or during trial, ensuring that your side of the story is presented convincingly.

Client Support and Guidance: Criminal matters can be stressful for the accused and their families. A top lawyer will provide not only legal assistance but also emotional support and clear guidance throughout the process.

Lawyer in Mumbai for Bail Matters

One of the most critical stages in criminal cases is securing bail. Being granted bail allows the accused to remain free while the trial is ongoing, rather than being held in custody. A lawyer in Mumbai for bail matters will be familiar with the procedures and arguments necessary to secure bail quickly and efficiently.

The  Best lawyer in Mumbai for bail matters will assess the specifics of your case and work to convince the court that you are not a flight risk and will comply with any conditions set for your release. Whether facing minor charges or more severe accusations, having an experienced bail lawyer can significantly impact your ability to secure freedom during legal proceedings.

Best Lawyer in Mumbai for Domestic Violence

Domestic violence cases are highly sensitive and often involve serious criminal charges. The best lawyer in Mumbai for domestic violence will handle cases related to abuse, assault, harassment, and protection orders. These lawyers must be well-versed in both criminal law and family law, as domestic violence cases often involve complex legal and emotional dynamics.

A good lawyer will help you understand your rights and options under the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, ensuring that you receive the necessary legal protection. They should also have experience in dealing with related matters such as child custody and divorce proceedings, which frequently accompany domestic violence cases.

Best Lawyer in Mumbai for Civil Matters

Civil matters can sometimes intersect with criminal issues, particularly in cases involving fraud, breach of trust, or defamation. The best lawyer in Mumbai for civil matters will specialize in handling property disputes, contract disputes, and family law issues. If your criminal case has civil implications, working with a lawyer who understands both civil and criminal law can be beneficial in achieving a comprehensive resolution.

Best Lawyer for Banking Matters

White-collar crimes, such as financial fraud and embezzlement, are often categorized under both criminal and banking matters. The best lawyer for banking matters will have a deep understanding of both criminal law and the financial regulations that govern banking and business transactions. If your case involves criminal accusations related to financial misconduct, you will need a lawyer who is well-versed in both banking regulations and criminal defense strategies.

Finding the best lawyer in Mumbai for criminal matters is crucial for anyone facing serious charges, whether they are related to domestic violence, civil disputes, or banking issues. Criminal cases can have life-altering consequences, and choosing the right legal representation can mean the difference between freedom and incarceration, or acquittal and conviction.

Whether you need a lawyer for bail matters, domestic violence, civil matters, or banking-related criminal charges, taking the time to find the best lawyer in Mumbai for your specific legal needs is essential. A lawyer with specialized expertise and a proven track record will not only defend your rights but also provide you with the support and guidance needed to navigate the complexities of the legal system.

[devsgames]

how hard was it to set up stuff regarding economical/legal side of things for gamedev? (regirestering a company, register trademark, recieve income from steam, pay taxes, etc) i know that its country specific but i would want to hear your side of things

You're right in that it's incredibly specific to your location! I'll go over what I've had to do thus far for specifically living in Ontario, Canada; A lot of how I've gained the following insight has been from thorough Googling, looking on government resources and asking people.

Setting Up A Business

Here in Ontario we have generous small business laws, anyone making money from their own business is by default considered a "Sole Proprietorship". Normally businesses need to charge tax based on every Good or Service sold, however Sole Proprietorships don't need to do this until they reach $30k yearly profits in Ontario.

Currently I'm making maybe 5k a year from my games so I'm safe, and thus technically don't even need to register a business. The tradeoff however is that I'm legally and financially responsible for my own business, so if something happens financially or legally it's my own personal risk and not the business's.

There's a few business types here with different meanings (Partnership, LLC, Co-op, etc). Technically I should register one at some point but since it's just me and I'm broke it won't do much. To register a business in Canada isn't hard (I think it's basically just a 30 minute phone call where they give you a 'business number' for registeration and tax use and say "congrats you're a business now!). You have to come up with a unique business name which I've consistently floundered back and forth on and have never stuck to anything which is why "Dev's Games" is the best "brand" I have at the moment. Good thing I'm not registered yet!

Registering a Trademark

This also depends on your location, and I have never done this. I'm sure in many cases there is reason to if I really cared about exclusively using titles or names of things, but I honestly don't.

I also genuinely don't thinm not having a trademark as a problem! Trademarks strike me as useful for a company trying to build a big business around a name that is aleeady popular and ripe for idea theft (E.g Photoshop, Google, Adobe) and stopping others from using it. Right now, I'm so small that this doesn't matter, and I'd honestly consider someone drawing inspiration from me an honor as opposed to something I'd want to contain. Maybe if one of my titles got like SUPER viral down the road I'd seriously look into it; apparently it's a lot of paperwork and something you'd have to find a lawyer for.

Getting Payments

This is, you guessed it, just paperwork that depends on your operating location!

Established storefronts like Steam have a process for registering your account with them and when I started out this was the part of the process I was the most anxious for, but it's actually super easy (which is why there's so much shovelware on there). Steam as a baseline takes 30% of all your sales on the platform (an absolutely insane amount for what the platform does). You'll fill out some paperwork and based on your operating location to determine how much money Steam automatically sets aside for taxes (VST).

As a Canadian they take 0% because Canada-America has tax exemption treaties which make receiving payments from American companies like this tax-free.

Outside of that there's not much, you give them your bank account number and they send payments one month after month end (e.g. end of December they'll pay you for November's sales). Everything is in USD so be prepared for things to be a bit wonky in that respect, and note it costs $100 USD to add a game to Steam. Setting up store pages for your games is its own kind of busywork I won't get into here, but publishing to Steam on the whole is much more work than something like Itch.io.

All in all I like Steam's process for registering and they make it pretty easy to get onto the platform since it's in their interest to potentially make fat money off of your work for doing very little :)

Managing Income

I struggle with anxiety around finances so this part is long.

I set up my own bank account explicitly for earning/spending on my games - prior to getting laid off I only used it for that, but recently I've been having to pay rent from it now too sometimes.

Get a platform that allows you to track and categorize your expenses and income over time. I've been using Wave to balance my income and expenses, as I find it's pretty simple for my needs and lets me mark what different payments are to avoid losing secret money to things I forget about. It connects directly to your bank account, so it will be the most accurate form of income tracking.

Eventually you will buy things and forget what you bought, or receive money for something you're not sure why, or lose/receive money months after you should have. Steam and Itchio have ways of viewing your payouts and reports, but it's hard jumping through 2-3 websites trying to track down a magic number - viewing this all in one place is invaluable to your sanity and making sure you don't go broke. Having this will be a godsend to you during tax time.

Always have additional "rainy day" money set aside - when I started I put about $100 aside from each paycheque at my full time job into my business. Keep an eye on your income flow and know how much you can anticipate to spend on your work. Know how your business money relates to your personal finances and be ready to take money out of your business for emergencies, and vice versa for business emergencies. Money put aside to pay contractors is money you cannot and should not touch.

Contractors based in the US will often ask you pay them through a certain site, many of which aren't available outside the US. Don't be afraid to ask if they use something like Paypal instead. Keep extra money aside for them so you can tip. Make sure you're aware of how they expect to be paid, at what interval, and how much, and keep that money aside. And expense tracker is also helpful here.

Keep in mind most businesses operate on USD, and be mindful of how your local currency converts over. CDN is usually ~60-70% of USD, so I often have to pay more for things like subscriptions or labour then they're listed. When a contractor tells you their rates always be sure you know what currency they're talking about - sometimes I've expected to pay USD when I've had to pay AUS.

Also do not quit your dayjob. Make money through a stable employment and fund your games as a fun side hobby. Easier said than done, but there is an almost 0% chance you will be able to afford surviving off of making indie games as a full living and be afford to keep a roof over your head. I've shipped 4 games on Steam now and I only make about $100-$300 USD from sales there depending on the month. Minimum wage in Ontario is ~$25k a year, I am currently making like $5k from sales on Steam alone. Working at McDonalds would pay better.

Taxes

Taxes are very regional, so results will vary.

Usually businesses have to set aside sales taxes on goods sold. Since I'm a Sole Proprietorship in Ontario making less than 30k I don't have to. Taxes for me basically consists of saying "I made this much" to the government (good expense tracking REALLY helps here).

One thing to note is that at least here the government has NO IDEA how video games fit into business. Until recently there was no "Game Development" business type, and much of the tax reporting interface is obsessed with physical goods; it'll ask how much your "inventory" is worth, how many "goods" you have sold (games are technically "goods" even though they're not a physical thing). Basically be prepared for your tax system to be used to dealing with physical retailers and farmers, and not with digital-only software developers.

---

I'm sure there's more I can cover but my hands hurt. A lot of this is researching your local laws and/or talking to devs local to your area. It's not hard to do any of this necessarily, it's just a lot of paperwork (which is nevertheless super helpful to put together). Once you learn how it all works everything is way less scary though! :)

[cantsayidont]

A pretty good movie:

CRUSH (2022): Unmemorable title for a delightful gay teen romcom about nerdy artist Paige Evans (Rowan Blanchard), who ends up on the track team and finds herself in an awkward romantic triangle with hot teammate Gabriela Campos (Isabella Ferreira) and Gabby's sister AJ (Auli'i Cravalho), who is frustrated at always living in her sister's shadow. The actual plot isn't much, in particular a rather contrived subplot about Paige trying to unmask a mysterious graffiti artist called KingPun (whose unauthorized murals on school property Paige has been accused of creating), but a winning cast and a very witty script make it great fun, and it's heartening to see LGBT characters integrated seamlessly into this kind of comedy rather than being treated as tokens or punchlines. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Yes! VERDICT: One of the more endearing teen comedies in recent memory, particularly recommended if you liked BOOKSMART, but wished it were gayer.

A movie that sounded good and wasn't:

GRAY MATTERS (2006): The '00s saw a minor boom in lesbian coming-out movies featuring nonthreatening closeted and/or sexually repressed lipstick femmes, often played by straight actresses. This mediocre entry stars Heather Graham as Manhattan ad exec Gray Baldwin, who has never even considered the possibility that she might be gay until her brother Sam (Tom Cavanagh) gets engaged to hot zoologist Charlie (Bridget Moynahan), whom Gray promptly falls for. Lots of talent, including Alan Cumming, Sissy Spacek, Molly Shannon, and a guest appearance by Gloria Gaynor as herself, but not much energy, and Gray is one of those bland romcom heroines with a handful of harmless quirks instead of a personality. The lackluster script also makes some very questionable creative choices, including trying to convey Gray and Sam's closeness by having them constantly mistaken for a couple (eww!) and having Sam rush to marry Charlie, who then bows out almost completely in the extremely lethargic second half. The third act is further marred by some transmisogynistic nonsense with Cumming sneaking into a lesbian bar in drag, and culminates in Gray managing to find a worse romantic alternative than snogging her sister-in-law. If it sounds perverse, it really isn't, at least not on purpose — the whole movie is so sexually timid that you could probably watch it with your grandma without having to hide your face, and the final scene's contrived faux-uplift feels like a yogurt commercial. CONTAINS LESBIANS: So it says. VERDICT: A lesbian movie for people who have never knowingly met a wlw in real life.

A movie that started off okay, but turned out badly:

THE OTHER WOMAN (2014): Initially silly but ultimately distasteful comedy, directed by Nick Cassavetes, about slick corporate lawyer Carly (Cameron Diaz) discovering that her hunky new boyfriend Mark (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) is actually married, and then bonding with Mark's distraught wife Kate (Leslie Mann) — who soon realizes that Mark is also cheating on her with the imposingly stacked Amber (Kate Upton). Kind of fun for the first hour, with a nice rapport between Diaz, Mann, and eventually Upson; Diaz inevitably seems stiffer than she obviously wants to be in comedies like this, but Mann is frequently hilarious, and Upson does well with her amusing if unchallenging dumb-blond role. Unfortunately, Melissa K. Stack's uneven script then takes some repugnant turns, including Kate deciding the best way to hurt Mark is to put feminizing hormones in his smoothies; an offensive transmisogynistic gag involving Amber trying to persuade Mark to have a threesome with a girlfriend who turns out to be a heavily stubbled man in a dress; and Amber then lying to Mark about having chlamydia so he'll be forced to take antibiotics for an STI he doesn't have. The second half is a weird mishmash of juvenile farce and "Y'know, even middle-class white ladies go to prison for that" wire- and bank-fraud-related escalation, seasoned with splashes of racism. Don Johnson and Nicki Minaj have small roles as Carly's Don Juanish father and sassy secretary, respectively. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Even scenes like Carly and Kate goggling at Amber's bikini-clad pulchritude are painfully straight. VERDICT: Gross transphobia, a very clumsy ending, and too many uncalled-for lapses in taste sour what otherwise would have been a moderately entertaining #girlpower comedy.

[dailyanarchistposts]

The primary thought you must have firmly in your mind, keep in your minds forefront, when questioned by police is if they, your police interrogators, possessed a solid, airtight, open and shut case against you they would not be bothering to question you at all. When you are approached refuse to be question and immediately demand an attorney be present to advise you of your constitutional rights before any questioning takes place. In an ideal world, and by well, established law, at this point all questioning is supposed to stop but that does not always happen as “clever” ploys are used by police to get you to volunteer for questioning or be forthcoming with information that rarely benefits you, a suspect but furthers the goal of their investigation. Never answer any questions, no matter how innocent they sound, after you have invoked your right to an attorney. Do not respond to any question no matter how fucking tempted or how harmless you think it to be! When read the Miranda rights you were told anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law and that is precisely what it means. Anything you might say of even a microscopic incriminating nature will be interpreted as a major admission by creative minds which can and will be used against you. You can take that fact to the bank.

Police interrogators aren’t your friends! Don’t provide them with anything to use against you, only provide your basic statistical personal information such as name, age, address, birthday and social security! [Different states have different laws about what information one is required to give, check out you local laws.] They’re your enemy if questioning you! Volunteer nothing! Either you are a suspect, friends or comrades are suspects or they are attempting to gather information to be used against you or your associates in the future. Your best interests, for you as a person, is the last thing on their minds. They’re merely performing their government job. Don’t allow yourself to become frightened or worse still to be lulled into a false sense of security. If they assault you, you can practice the popular American martial art of “I Sue!” Politely listen to their games. Remain silent no matter how long questioning lasts and don’t allow yourself to be wore down with time, a favorite tactic employed by skilled questioners. Recognize their games and realize their societal job function is to lock you up, to clear a case file that may result in the destruction of your life, making you, your family and loved ones suffer, sometimes for months and in the worse scenario for years! Remain silent. Sooner or later they will give up questioning you altogether. They will move on to a weak willed person to manipulate into prolonged imprisonment.

There are two logical outcomes to interrogations. When questioning is done you are free to leave to join family, friends or comrades within the movement, a wiser, stronger willed soldier tested by fire, or you are locked up. If locked up, and you kept your mouth shut, as soon as possible as the opportunity presents itself after you request your one allowed phone call then call a bail bonding company or your lawyer. Your attorney will be pleased he/she has a client who remained silent and did not give a statement! Because of your wise silence your attorney may be able to perform the magic taught in law universities and colleges of law. Your attorney may be able to have the case dismissed in court later due to the lack of evidence at preliminary hearing if you are charged with a crime! If you have felt the need of confession other than to a priest then forget about lack of evidence dismissals. You volunteered so endeavor to enjoy your unique incarceration experience, dummy! Should there be other evidence against you (“Opps! Forgot my gloves! Fingerprints are Hollywood bull shit, right?!”) by choosing to remain silent you have expanded your lawyer’s defense strategy choices which may win your case in court in front of a jury made up of people of average ignorance. Those of you who immediately thought of the O.J. jury, shame on you!

Give up nothing! Give up nobody! Don’t let your mouth put your ass in jail! Retain your rights! Remember you have the right not to incriminate yourself! Say nothing you or your friends will regret later in court while facing a stern faced judge and anal retentive, irate government prosecutor!

If you stayed with me to this point, the following will be some shallow, laughable mind games they may try to play on you with all the intensity of a child examining the first insect they encounter! Remember the cops talking to you, cajoling you to bear your soul, clear your conscience, “make yourself feel better” by telling them what happened because they “understand” after you do will laugh in your face, later in their locker room howl with laughter with each other about how utterly naive and gullible you are, call you an ignoramus and various other things, pat each other and themselves on the back and then pleased with their day’s work go home to screw their wife, boyfriend or girlfriend and kick their dog, or vice versa.

After the interrogation is over as a just reward for your cooperation with these hardworking public servants who serve and protect the public, you will be led away to a filthy barren cell reeking with combined odors of sweat, body waste in liquid and solid form, stale tobacco smoke and hopelessness with dubious characters as your cell mates. You may have to fight to keep a food tray, a place to sit or sleep if you aren’t immediately bailed out, you may discover yourself in a struggle to retain your shoes, shirt or jacket from predatory social prisoners. Remember how you felt your privacy was violated when a bathroom door was accidentally opened by another person on you at home, office, workplace, or elsewhere? Well, prepare yourself to forfeit all privacy expectation when Nature calls and you must answer the call in the sight, presence or within arm’s reach of other hapless people! You may be forced to learn what it means to literally and figuratively stand your ground for the first time in your life in a jail or in prison. You may be forced to defend your sexuality, defend yourself against sexual predators or some people are forced to temporarily switch their sexual preferences becoming bisexual by circumstance to survive incarceration intact. Yell for help? None is forthcoming except in cases of extreme brutality or mutually combative situations as those who swore to serve and protect usually turn a blind eye to prisoners. If you confessed to police interrogators, aided with the crime investigation efforts, in an ill-fated effort to prove yourself intellectually superior to those questioning you stuck your foot in your mouth, you have condemned yourself with your own words, then you will in all likelihood, not pay the slightest attention to the following word of caution. Once booked, fingerprinted and slammed in a cell you should not talk about your case with those around you who may express interest in why you are locked up! Each prisoner willing to listen to your tale of woe is a potential threat of showing up in court to testify against you as a jailhouse informant or a cop put in the cell with you whose sole purpose was to gain confidence and solicit a confession! You may be a target so realize this fact and shut the fuck up! A classic example of this is years ago in the early 1980’s, a State prisoner in Tennessee named Gary Hartman confided to a cell partner, Raymond Frazier, about a murder in which he was involved. Frazier got with another prisoner, Kenneth King, and they, with the aid of prison officials, contacted the attorney general’s office and law enforcement, collected a $1,000 reward and Hartman was convicted and sentenced to death. After a decade plus on death row Hartman’s death sentence was overturned on appeal and he was sentenced to life in prison. Just like during W.W. I and W.W. II, loose lips sink ships!

If you made a statement you may as well be pleased with your lousy career, life and health choices since you have volunteered for a stint, however prolonged or brief, in your chosen hell by “cooperating” with police? Not exactly a Norman Rockwell picture, is it? I refuse to “sugarcoat” this description of a potential first confinement experience horror to save your sensitivity or cater to your squeamishness. I would rather shock you to serious thought by speaking truth motivated by love for my sincere activist brothers and sisters engaged in struggle against the monsters of the earth guided by their hearts and knowledge of what is right rather than let you find out the painful hard way and begin a nightmare which will rob you of your life, of your productive years, and the progress you could have made during those forever lost years to the struggle.

[evapravat]

WHEN: May 15th, 2023 WHERE: Blood Bank WHO: @whatisbloodworth​

A week hadn’t passed, and for Eva, it was a lifetime. Every part of her body continued to scream in protest, especially now as she twirled an umbrella over her head, doing her best to dodge the sun. Ethereum as it turned out, was a substance she would never be participating in. The allergic effect on her vampiric body seemed even more intense than when she had been human. The entire thought make her want to rip her skin off. She didn’t care that suddenly there was a supernatural glow about her. That all of the features she had loved previously were even more pronounced now. She couldn’t control herself. 

That statement alone was enough to make her accept what was happening. She needed to get her life back, no matter what it took. And if that meant sucking it up, quite literally, and joining the parade of other vampires who used this place as their meal resource, then she would have to. Especially due to the fact that she had bodily assaulted multiple people already, and as a lawyer, that was definitely against the code of ethics.

“Fuck!” She screeched, pulled down a sleeve with her gloved hands. 

[slautertm]

IN THE AFTERMATH OF NERDY PRUDES -- MAY BE REBLOGGED AND ADDED TO ( under cut for triggering content & spoilers ) :

i got to say this first. steph still has the gun. and it can bounce from her nightstand to the glovebox of her car.

steph begins to abuse alcohol. i have talked about it HERE, but to go into more detail, within the first week it's something she uses to go to sleep. she carries a flask to school for a month ( sometimes touching it, sometimes not, fully wanting to be found with it and sent home ) in case she needs something to pull her through the day. even on mornings when she is just hungover she really does not drive herself to school until after homecoming when she's slowing down a little bit. it's something she is trying not to lean on too heavily but it is something she is struggling to kick completely for awhile. she is trying her best to hide it from anyone and everyone though.

she does not miss school that first week and does not consider it unless she decides to go to pete's and / or grace ( but refuses to go to grace's house ) or somewhere with the two. after that she is pretty on and off with how often she goes to school till january or febuary of 2021.

checks 15,000 dollars from the mayor / 'the city of hatchetfield' was donated to the families of ruth fleming and richard lipschitz in order to aid in funeral costs. the mayor was reported missing by his daughter two days after those letters of condolence and donations were delivered. max's family does not receive money, but the mayor's office does send a rather large bouquet of flowers.

she attends every victim of max's and max's own funeral. she brings flowers. she sits in the back ( and or by pete ). she does not cry at any of them but does when she gets a moment alone afterwards (but gets close at richie and ruth's).

frequently has nightmares about the lords in black ( especially tinky, wiggly, and nibbly ) and about pete being dead. sometimes about richie, ruth, max, her dad and their own cold ghosts having... not the kindest things to say as they attack. mostly about the lords in black and pete being shot.

cannot do loud noises, eSPECIALLY not SUDDEN loud noises.

stops going to parties all together - i feel like she goes to one but is very quickly and suddenly overwhelmed and leaves ( and calls someone to get her ).

the very first thing she does after school that first day is she gets right to work on preparations for when her dad's body is found / when hatchetfield gives up on him- which she is not expecting to be long. the mayor being gone after years and years of being elected mayor the weeks before the election? something must have happened. she is hoping to be left enough money to properly bury him but is also not banking on being left any money so it's a lot of research, a lot of looking through her dad's office for answers or for lawyers information, trying to figure out how to adult in a matter of weeks. she's really struggling but trying her best to hide it.

steph comes into... a lot of money in the aftermath of nerdy prudes, but honestly only saves a portion of it for herself- that portion is the money made from selling house and then 200,000. she doesn't want it and honestly for a longtime is giving it away to people who she thinks need it - ( and she has accounts made in which she intends to give to pete and grace, though grace first has Less. but also if she finds out what you are up to miss chasity that money is going bye bye miss ) she writes herself a will even before she comes into her inheritance ( and of course has to edit it ) but honestly feels wrong about sitting with so much

very much so is... not leaning on pete ( and to some extent, grace though her own feelings on grace is... complicated ) . she is trying to avoid talking things through her own trauma and instead focus on taking care of both of the surviors but especially pete. it's her way of an apology until she can find the courage to utter to words... and then say it again ( yes. i do know it's life or death and she knows it to but steph really does feel bad and is haunted by the fact that she almost killed him, that she was talked into that, and really feeling like it should have been her.) it's not something she gets over, even if a conversation is had about it.

now for grace - is steph feeling protective over grace? yes. does steph feel a little closer to grace to consider her a friend ( or at least an almost friend, inviting her to do things )? yes. HOWEVER. steph does feeling growing irritation as time passes for grace just abandoning them there after max got to the gym as well as for everything that happened- the latter being mostly a defense because she sits there thinking about what if's. how fast she puts what grace is doing together is dependent on how grace is carrying herself- but honestly... steph feels like she is being held together by tape so much of the time- so she is a little bit naive. she is not so naive to people going missing which leads me to my next point..

multiple people starting to go missing due to grace’s evil Power Move really does trigger steph’s protectiveness and while she before was putting on a sort of mask of ease, being put together, that sets her off and she gets noticably tense and is withdrawing from everyone that isn't pete and grace as she tries to figure out what the fuck is happening. steph is slightly paranoid, and her little flinching and nerves are Wide Awake as she tries her best to QUICKLY figure out what the FUCK is going on so that no one else or limited people get hurt.