#Personal loans for part-time workers

[fincrif]

Do Part-Time Employees Qualify for Personal Loans?

Personal loans are an accessible financial solution for many individuals who need immediate funds for various reasons, such as medical expenses, home renovations, education, or emergencies. But a common question that arises is whether part-time employees qualify for personal loans, considering they have lower or irregular incomes compared to full-time employees.

In this article, we will explore whether part-time employees can get personal loans, the factors that lenders consider in these cases, and how part-time workers can increase their chances of approval. We will also provide tips for part-time employees on how to maximize their chances of securing a personal loan with favorable terms.

What Is a Personal Loan?

A personal loan is an unsecured loan that can be used for various personal purposes. Unlike home loans or car loans, which are tied to the asset being purchased, personal loans offer flexibility and can be used for anything from paying medical bills to financing vacations. These loans usually have fixed interest rates and fixed repayment terms, which makes them easy to manage. Personal loans are typically offered by banks, Non-Banking Financial Companies (NBFCs), and online lending platforms.

Can Part-Time Employees Qualify for Personal Loans?

The short answer is: Yes, part-time employees can qualify for personal loans. However, the approval process may differ compared to that of full-time employees. Lenders assess several factors before approving any loan application, and part-time employees need to meet these requirements to qualify. Let’s break down the essential factors that lenders consider when evaluating part-time employees for personal loans.

1. Income Stability

One of the main concerns that lenders have when assessing part-time employees is the stability of their income. Personal loan lenders want assurance that borrowers will be able to repay the loan amount without difficulty. Since part-time workers often have lower or irregular incomes, lenders may scrutinize their income patterns more closely.

That said, if a part-time employee can demonstrate a steady income over a long period of time, they are more likely to get approved for a personal loan. Lenders will assess your average monthly income, how long you have been working part-time, and whether you have any secondary sources of income.

2. Credit Score

A good credit score is a key factor that determines whether you qualify for a personal loan, regardless of your employment type. A high credit score (typically 750 or above) signals to lenders that you have a history of managing credit responsibly. Part-time employees with high credit scores are more likely to get approved for a personal loan, even with lower incomes.

If your credit score is below 750, you may still be able to get a loan, but you may face higher interest rates or more stringent eligibility criteria. In such cases, it’s essential to work on improving your credit score before applying for a loan to increase your chances of getting favorable terms.

3. Debt-to-Income (DTI) Ratio

The debt-to-income ratio (DTI) is another key factor that lenders consider when evaluating loan applications. Your DTI ratio is the percentage of your monthly income that goes toward paying off debt. Lenders use this ratio to assess whether you can afford additional debt, such as a personal loan.

For part-time employees, a lower DTI ratio is crucial. If a part-time worker has a high DTI ratio (indicating that a large portion of their income is already committed to paying off other debts), they may struggle to repay the loan, making lenders less likely to approve the loan.

4. Employment Duration

Lenders also want to ensure that you have a certain amount of job stability. For full-time employees, this requirement is usually more lenient. However, for part-time employees, lenders may want to see a longer employment history or proof that the part-time work is consistent and stable. Generally, part-time employees should aim to have at least six months to a year of employment history with their current employer to improve their chances of getting approved.

5. Additional Income Sources

Having secondary sources of income can significantly increase a part-time employee’s chances of qualifying for a personal loan. This could include freelance work, rental income, investments, or other part-time jobs. If part-time employees can show that they have additional income sources that supplement their primary part-time job, they may be able to qualify for a larger loan amount.

6. Loan Amount and Tenure

Part-time employees may be eligible for smaller loan amounts due to their lower incomes. However, the amount you can borrow also depends on your ability to repay the loan. Lenders generally offer smaller loan amounts with more flexible repayment terms to part-time workers, which means that you may be able to get approved for a loan, but with a lower principal amount.

Additionally, lenders may offer part-time employees longer loan tenures to reduce the monthly EMI (Equated Monthly Installment) burden. Opting for a longer loan tenure means lower EMIs but may result in paying more interest over the life of the loan.

How Part-Time Employees Can Increase Their Chances of Getting a Personal Loan

If you are a part-time employee and want to improve your chances of getting approved for a personal loan, here are some tips to consider:

1. Improve Your Credit Score

A higher credit score can increase your chances of getting approved for a loan. Pay your bills on time, reduce your credit card balances, and avoid taking on too much debt. If necessary, request a copy of your credit report to check for any errors that may be affecting your score and work to resolve them.

2. Demonstrate Stable Income

If you have been employed part-time for a while, make sure to provide proof of stable income. Lenders will often ask for bank statements, pay slips, and tax returns to verify your income. If you have been working part-time for a short period, consider waiting until you can show a consistent income pattern before applying for a loan.

3. Provide Proof of Additional Income

If you have other sources of income, such as freelance work, side businesses, or investments, provide proof of this additional income to increase your chances of approval. Lenders appreciate applicants who can demonstrate multiple streams of income, as this indicates financial stability.

4. Apply for a Smaller Loan Amount

If you are unsure about your eligibility, consider applying for a smaller loan amount. Lenders are more likely to approve personal loans for part-time employees with lower loan amounts, especially if they have stable income and a good credit score.

5. Choose a Longer Loan Tenure

Opting for a longer loan tenure can help lower your EMIs, making the loan more manageable. While this means you will pay more interest over time, it can make the loan more affordable in the short term.

6. Consider a Co-Applicant

If your income is not sufficient to qualify for a loan on your own, consider applying with a co-applicant. A co-applicant with a steady full-time job and a good credit score can increase your chances of loan approval.

How to Apply for a Personal Loan as a Part-Time Employee

Once you have ensured that you meet the eligibility requirements, the next step is to apply for a personal loan. Here’s a general process for applying:

Check Your Eligibility: Use online eligibility calculators offered by various lenders to check if you qualify for a personal loan based on your income and credit score.

Compare Lenders: Research various lenders, such as banks and NBFCs, to compare their interest rates, loan amounts, and repayment terms. Some popular lenders offering personal loans include:

IDFC First Bank Personal Loan

Bajaj Finserv Personal Loan

Tata Capital Personal Loan

Axis Finance Personal Loan

Axis Bank Personal Loan

Incred Personal Loan

Fill Out the Application: Complete the online or offline application form, providing all necessary information about your income, employment, and financial obligations.

Submit Documents: Submit the required documents, including proof of identity, address, income, and employment.

Wait for Approval: After reviewing your application and documents, the lender will decide whether to approve your loan. If approved, the funds will be disbursed to your account.

Part-time employees can indeed qualify for personal loans, but the approval process may involve a more detailed review of their income and financial stability. By demonstrating a steady income, maintaining a good credit score, and providing additional income proof, part-time workers can increase their chances of securing a personal loan with favorable terms.

If you’re a part-time employee looking for a personal loan, consider comparing offers from trusted lenders like IDFC First Bank, Bajaj Finserv, Tata Capital, and others to find the best loan option for your needs.

[oracle-of-dream]

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Summary: Y/n is down on their luck making financial ends meet. When a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity forces them into a bargain that can't refuse. Now, they find themselves at a party searching for a partner but the person they get is someone they'd never expect.

Notes: Male Reader, Dubious Contracts, Financial Struggles, Idol Jay, Enhypen exists, Fake names, Kissing

Wordcount: 6.9k

It’s funny to think about how much money can buy. Many people say it can’t buy happiness, love, or fulfillment. But when push comes to shove. Money makes the world go round…

Being in college was all you wanted. A chance to get an education that was enough to get you away from the boring life that awaited you if you decided to miss out. Moving to a big city, far away from your parents wasn’t even the hard part. It was paying for college… You managed to land a decent scholarship, as long as you did your school work and did some volunteering to make the school look good then you’d be safe to coast through without any worries. Or that was the case. In your second semester of freshman year, one picture put you dead in the water.

It was your first party. No parents to worry about what time you’d be back. Friends watch you in case things get too crazy. And a cute guy who invited you. A frat boy.By the end of the night, videos of you drinking online circulated. And being a year under the drinking age wasn’t a good look either. The school tore away your scholarship, you were lucky they didn’t expel you. You didn’t have the heart to tell your parents what happened, so you had to find a way to pay for school alone. You looked for private loans, but most wouldn’t accept you without a guarantor, someone to pay them back if you couldn’t. And working odd jobs wouldn’t earn you enough money before the next semester. That’s where The Dollhouse entered the picture. 

This was the sixth bank you’d visited. You were desperate. Waiting for the subway, you were approached by a man in a long black coat. He was older than you, but not by much, his early thirties max. He wore a black shirt and pants, with black hair to match. He was almost like a shadow… if shadows were handsome men. “Excuse me, you dropped this!” He exclaimed as he rushed over to you. He had your phone in his hand, ready to offer it to you.

You must’ve dropped it at the bank. “Thank you so much! I’d be dead without this.”

“You should be more careful! You never know what kind of people you’ll meet. Stranger Danger and all that.”

You giggled. He sounded like your Dad saying that. “Aren’t you a stranger?”

He tilted his head to the side, pondering your point. “I suppose so. You can call me Seo-jun.”

“I’m y/n. Sorry for making you chase me here, and thanks again for bringing me my phone.”

He shook his head. “It’s no problem. I have to go this way for work anyway.”

“What kind of job do you have?”

“I’m sorta like a manager. I help connect people looking for work with clients looking for workers.” Seo-jun smiled wryly. “But right now, business is down. Some workers quit recently, and our clients want more new faces.”

You felt a pang in your stomach. You’d been cutting out meals to save money and your job was still only paying minimum wage. Considering you had a bit of free time, you took a chance. “I could lend a hand. I could use the money, and you did help me. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Seo-jun’s smile faded a bit. “Um… You’re a nice kid. But I don’t think our work is good for you.”

Originally you were offering just to be nice, but now your interest was piqued. “W-Why not?” 

“Don’t be like that. You look like a hard worker, but it’s not ordinary work. The paychecks are nice, but I’d hate to see such a good kid like you work there.”

“How well does it pay?”

“That’s beside the point–”

“How much does it pay!?” You demanded.

“Depending on your client. After fees from management, I’ve seen some workers make over $4,000 in less than a week of work.” Seo-jun sighed.

4k in a week could set you up for the entire semester before the end of the summer, and then some! “Take me to work with you! Please!” Seo-jun tried not to look you in the eye, but you gripped his arm and refused to let go. “Then you’ll have to walk with me there. I’ll just talk to your boss.”

“Woah, woah. I’ll take you there, just don’t make a scene. People are staring,” He whispered, trying to peel you off him.

Thankfully it wasn’t too far of a train ride. You spent it wondering what kind of work they’d had you do. You weren’t well-dressed, having sold off most of your nice clothing. Maybe if there were uniforms, then your clothes wouldn’t be much of a problem. Seo-jun was silent for most of the ride, texting someone. His face was dark, which made his face stand out more. He wasn’t just pretty, he was extremely handsome. His black hair settled on his forehead and dipped slightly past his eyebrow making him even more attractive. The type of look no one could get enough of. And a few of the girls on the train agreed with you, from how they stared.

Seo-jun guided you off the train after another five stops. You walked a few blocks, turned a corner, and approached a black building wedged between two pale ones. Before knocking, Seo-jun looked at you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I think I can handle it.” You were a bit nervous. There weren’t many people on this street, and the building was tall and imposing in the quiet neighborhood.

Seo-jun knocked on the door. It cracked open, and a big man with tattoos peeked through the crack. Once he registered who was at the door, it closed again before opening completely. Seo-jun said nothing as he entered the building, and you closely followed behind him. The large man shut the door behind you. Now you saw him completely, he looked more like an NFL player. He could easily throw you around if he wanted to. Seo-jun didn’t pay the man any mind, walking forward as he passed several doors. Each had a sign on it. Most said open and a few said occupied. The doors were closed and looked pretty heavy. It was so quiet, you could only hear the sounds of your footsteps on the tile. Seo-Jun led you to an office at the end of the hallway, putting in a key from his pocket and unlocking it. He sat down behind the desk, which was covered with papers. 

“Come in and take a seat, y/n.” 

You sat down in the chair in front of the desk. The room had a red velvet wall, and pictures of models. Or at least, they seemed like models. All of them were men in their early twenties, each was different but handsome. You even saw one that looked like Seo-Jun.

“Is that you?” You pointed at the photo.

Seo-Jun didn’t look. “Not anymore. That was a long time ago.” You raised an eyebrow. He looked almost the same in the photo as in front of you. But maybe it wasn’t the best time to push him to spill more. 

“Why are you looking for money?” Seo-Jun questioned.

“College. It’s expensive, ya know?”

He scoffed. “Yeah. I know. Don’t you have parents, or any other family who can help?”

You shook your head. “That’s not an option.” Thinking about your family left a bitter taste in your mouth. They’d be so disappointed if they knew how bad things had gotten.

He pursed his lips like he understood the feeling. “How much money do you need?”

“Ideally, enough for school.”

“Give me a number.”

“It’s about $10k a semester. More if I live on campus.”

“Okay, and when school’s not in session, do you have a place to live? Around here, specifically.” You shook your head. You caught yourself about to talk about your family home, but maybe it was best not to… Seo-Jun typed a few things on a calculator on his phone, opened a laptop, and waited for it to start. “Okay. If you start working with us, it's like this. We’ll give you the money and other necessities you need, and you have to work off that amount.”

“You’ll give me the money?”

“I’ll have you log into your student account, and I’ll pay your semester in advance now. But that’s only if you accept our offer.”

“Of course!”

Seo-Jun sighed. “Please hear me completely before you decide.” He straightened his back as he pulled the laptop closer to him. He typed a few things before turning the computer around, and showing you the screen. It was a camera feed. “This is what we do.”

You watched closely. It looked like a guy your age was in a room with another person. They were talking. You were about to look away, shrugging it off before you saw the boy kneel on the ground. He was doing something to the older man’s pants. You leaned in to see, but the camera wasn’t clear enough.

“What is this?”

“This is the job. Be a partner for your clients, whatever that means for them. Then they’ll pay you for the service.” Seo-Jun’s jaw went slack. “Like I said, this isn’t an ordinary job. But if you take it, we’ll take care of you. You’ll have a home and meals, and we’ll keep our end of the bargain and pay for school.”

You sat back in your chair as the reality of the offer landed on you. Being hired, partner… A fancy way to say, prostitute. Was this really the only way?

“I know that you don’t want to pressure your family with your financial situation. And I’ll be honest, we didn’t bump into each other by mistake.” Seo-Jun pulled your phone out of his pocket.

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it…

“You didn’t drop it. I stole it. I needed an excuse to talk to you, and for you to trust me. I know you’ve been looking for loans, but can’t get any.” Seo-Jun leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “We need workers, and you need our help. Or… does your sweet mother wanna hear about your scholarship?”

A cold sweat ran down your neck. You’d walked right into a cage and didn’t even realize it. “What scholarship?” You gulped.

“The one you lost. It’s a shame. How one mistake can ruin everything for you, isn’t it?” Seo-Jun put a video on the laptop, the same one that ruined your chances of living a normal college life. “We can make it so the video never sees the light of day again, as a bonus for signing with us. You won’t have to worry about mommy seeing it, or knowing how you lost your scholarship. You’ll have school paid for, and have time to study. All you need to do is be a worker.” Seo-Jun pulled a piece of paper from a stack on his desk, a pre-printed contract, with your name at the top. “You can read through it if you’d like. Everything I promised is in there.”

Seo-Jun placed the paper on the desk, sliding it toward you, with a pen on top.

“How can you do this to people?” You mumbled.

“It’s never easy. I did try to give you a warning, but you insisted.”

“That was before I knew this!” You wanted to throw the paper at him and storm out, but your legs were glued to the seat. This was a once-in-a-lifetime offer.

“I’ll also mention. Any extra “gifts” you get from your clients will be yours to keep. Frequently, we get high-profile clients who love to have specific partners they visit. And they bring them gifts every time they visit; from clothes and jewelry to cars and even buildings.” Seo-Jun stood from his seat, walking around the desk to lean on it close to you. “It’s a good deal. Fair and transparent. If you’re lucky, you’ll be out fast. And your identity is completely concealed within our walls. No one will ever know you worked here unless we want them to know.” He picked up your hand and the pen, placing them together. “So, what’s the call?”

Your jaw was so tight, you struggled to speak, “C-Can I sleep on this?” 

“No. Once you walk out the door, the offer’s gone.” He said flatly.

The pressure was too much. You couldn’t think of anything. There was no real way out, and this was too good of an offer to pass. Even if you refused, how could you afford the new semester? You sighed heavily before moving the pen to the paper, slowly signing your name. The red ink flowed on the paper, drying into a deep crimson like you were using your blood to sign.

“Excellent. As of today, you’re a part of the Dollhouse.” Seo-Jun snatched the paper off the desk, folding it and tucking it into his back pocket. “Here’s this back,” He handed your phone back to you. “One more thing, if you violate our contract or try to run. We’ll drag your ass back here faster than you can blink. If not then your parents will have to pay off the loan.”

Your head hung. Guilt sat on your shoulder as you leaned back in the chair. This was your fate now…

Seo-Jun handed you a card. “You’ll go back to your dorm. When you do, call this number and answer whatever questions they ask. We’ll have to come by in about a week for measurements.”

“What measurements?”

“We need your body measurements to advertise you. And we’ll have to dress you, give you a nice haircut, and dress you up. Which, the Dollhouse will pay for. This will add to your debt, naturally.”

“I-I don’t want it then!”

“If you don’t look nice, no one will ask for you. If not, then you won’t make any money. If you make us no money, you’ll be stuck in our arrangement for a while.” Seo-Jun frowned. “I don’t enjoy this, so let’s make this as easy as possible. There’s an event next week where new clients can meet our workers clandestinely. It’s like a mixer, speed-dating. That’s your best way to get a high-roller on your account to support you.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is so stupid. Why would anyone pick me anyway?”

Seo-Jun glared at you. “Do not talk about yourself like that. If you start looking down on yourself, clients can tell you don’t value yourself. If you can value yourself, how can you value them?”

Seo-Jun sent you back on your way, giving you directions back home. The ride back home felt like hours. All you could do was try not to cry. You tried so hard to come to the city to be someone different than how you could’ve been back home, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. You got back to your dorm. It was dark and quiet, just like that building. You were lucky enough not to have any roommates. No one to hear you cry yourself to sleep…

In the morning, you woke up as your phone rang. You rolled over, ignoring the call. But it rang, again and again. After the fourth phone call in a row, you looked at it. It was an unknown number.

You answered cautiously. “H-Hello?”

“Y/n? Have you lost your mind?” Seo-Jun said, with disappointment in his tone.

“How did you get this number?”

“I stole your phone. I knew I had to get your number too. Just in case you ran off.” He sighed. “I thought you did for a moment. That would’ve been a lot of trouble for the both of us… Why didn’t you call me when you got home?”

You’d completely forgotten about calling the number on the card. “Sorry. It slipped my mind.”

“Let’s get rid of that habit. Being forgetful isn’t cute. Some clients will call you at different times of the day and don’t take kindly to being ignored. You’ve got a job that’s busier than full-time. It’s 24/7.”

“Well, what do you want, Seo-Jun?”

“When we’re talking business, please call me Mr. Seo-Jun.”

You groaned but knew he wasn’t joking. “What do you want, Mr. Seo-Jun?”

“I need you to tell me your school login. I want to see your schedule for classes and pay your bill.” You told him without any fuss. You were too tired to give a damn anymore. “There’s a good boy. Now, you can go back to the rest of your week. I’ll keep in touch.”

Seo-Jun hung up before you could answer him. It was Wednesday, meaning your classes started later in the day. You took your time showering and picking out clothes. It was thirty minutes before class when you went to the bus stop. Like clockwork, your friend, Eun, waited for you to arrive.

Eun was a friend you made during the first semester of college. He was 5’9” and goofy, often laughing at his jokes like a comedy club. He probably heard a laugh track in his head when he told jokes. He usually dressed in bright-colored shirts, denim jeans, and a big smile. He was also there for you when you’d gone through the frat party fiasco. Most of your “friends” had ditched you, throwing you under the bus for drinking to save their necks. But Eun was the only one who stayed by your side.

Eun waved at you as you walked toward him. “Good morning!”

“Morning, Eun.”

He studied your face for a moment. “Yeesh, what happened? You look like you had a rough sleep.”

“Thanks, buddy. You always know just what to say…” You sighed as you looked up at the sky.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Seriously dude, are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure… then, you’ll wanna hear about how Enhypen are coming to the area to perform.”

Your eyes bulged. “Enhypen’s coming here!? No fucking way, when!?”

“The news dropped this morning. They’re holding a small concert on campus around next week!” 

Your stomach churned. Next week!? That’s when the mixer was supposed to be. Maybe you could ask Seo-Jun for a day off to attend the concert…

Eun saw your smile drop. “Hey, dude, seriously. What’s going on? Normally you’re super excited about this kind of stuff.”

“I am. I’ve got some stuff happening next week, so I hope they don’t overlap.” You prayed that it would be some swift joke that would pass you by…

The next few days passed, and you kept a close eye on your phone. Not a single call or text from your new boss. Or would your owner be the right word? You checked your school login a few days ago, and your school bill for the next semester was already paid in advance. It was good to know Seo-Jun was a man of his word. But it also meant that everything else he’d said would pass too. It wasn’t until Monday that you got some news. 

The Enhypen concert was on a Friday. Which made sense, students would stay on campus all the time. So why not have a concert that night? However, your morning was disturbed by a call. You answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Good job answering the first time. You’re learning.” You could hear the smirk on his face.

“Let’s get to the part where you tell me what you want.”

“To the point it is. The date of the mixer is set to be this Friday night, it’ll be pretty late so get your homework done in time.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like you care about my schoolwork.”

“Of course I do. I’m the one paying for it.”

“What time exactly is the mixer?”

“Why?” Seo-Jun questioned.

“Well, there’s a concert happening on campus and I wanted to go–”

Seo-Jun sucked his teeth. “No. You’re expected to be here before sunset so we can get you ready. Tardiness will only put the whole team behind schedule, and some client’s time is precious.”

“But–”

“Be here. Friday. After class. Bye.” Seo-Jun hung up without another word.

You huffed a heavy sigh as you texted Eun that you wouldn’t attend the concert. Naturally, he was concerned about why and questioned you, but you lied about having a family matter to attend to. He promised to take videos for you at least. It left you feeling like a dog on a leash. Any time Seo-Jun pulled on it, you had no choice but to follow his orders. In the days before the mixer, he asked you more questions about the style of clothes you’d enjoy, strengths, weaknesses, talents, quirks, birthmarks, anything you hated, and even your allergies.

On Friday, after your last class. There was a black SUV waiting outside your dorm. Walking past the suspicious car, the window rolled down. “Just going to ignore me?” Seo-Jun’s voice whistled out. You turned to see him sitting in the back seat. “Get in. Time for fitting.”

“I just got home. Don’t I get to change or something?”

“Does it matter? You’d just be changing just to change again. You’ll have time to relax while waiting for the mixer to start.” You got in the car, tossing your backpack in. The car was nice. You didn’t recognize the driver. 

Seo-Jun handed you a folder. “Does everything in here look right?”

You opened it. It was almost like a resume, all about you. From an approximate height and weight to even an ethnicity check. “How did you guess my ethnicity? I didn’t tell you that.”

He shrugged. “The internet is a scary place. If you’ve put it somewhere online before, it's on the dark web.” They closed the folder and tucked it into a briefcase. “So, let me explain the mixer a bit. Generally, it's an event for our workers to meet new clients. But also for some of our clients to show off to their rich buddies and convince them to invest in our services. Be presentable, flexible, and obedient to earn attention.” Out of the briefcase, Seo-Jun produced pictures of young men pandering to their clients. “Now, we never call our clients “clients” to their face. They’re our partners. And you’ll need a persona. Something that’s already similar to who you are so you don’t need to act too much. Some like them feisty, others like our boys a little more submissive.”

“How do I come up with one?”

“Don’t, just be you and they will. Once you’ve got one, then stick to it. The savior types might be your best bet, so maybe you’ll get them with a sort of damsel persona.”

“Savior types?”

“The ones who get off on the fact they’re helping you. Like they’re the only ones who ever could, so you need them to save you.”

There was so much nuance to this… It made your head hurt just thinking about it. 

Seo-Jun studied your expression. “It’s your first one, so don’t worry about standing out. You’ll be standing with the newbies, like a puppy in an adoption bin. All the newbies are workers without a regular client, so they’re a bit cutthroat when someone gets close.”

“Anything else?” You sighed as you scrolled through your phone.

Seo-Jun leaned forward and snatched it, putting it inside his briefcase.“Also, you can't use phones. You’ll be engaged the whole time, so we can’t risk distractions. And we can’t let you take any photos of anyone.” 

You grumbled as you looked out of the heavily tinted windows. The rest of the car ride was silent, even the car didn’t make much noise. After the car ride, you were escorted into the Dollhouse. Upstairs were the living quarters for all the “Dolls” as Seo-Jun called them. You were now one of the Dolls of his house. Each doll was awarded their room. Some got to move out if their clients bought them a place to stay, but they weren’t allowed to leave the city without permission. And, each doll had a name. Something they’d go by. Your new name, Minsu, means Elegant and Beautiful according to Seo-Jun. 

“Okay. From now on, anytime you’re in the dollhouse or with a client, you’ll be called Minsu. Clients can pay to change their name. But it's how we can identify you without exposing your identity.” Seo-Jun elaborated, “We’ve had issues in the past of clients who get too attached to their dolls and tried to approach someone’s family to ask permission to marry their song. Which, of course, we dealt with before disaster struck.”

Minsu… You’re new name. Nothing was yours anymore. Your body, time, and now name wasn’t even yours.

“Let’s practice.” Seo-Jun cleared his throat. “Minsu, how are you?”

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’m fine… Mr. Seo-Jun.”

“Good job. You even remembered Mr.” He smiled. Seo-Jun put your backpack in your room. It was a simple room, with a bed, desk, and wardrobe. It was bare. “You can decorate it with what you want, it's all yours. But if your client gives you a gift, I’d recommend making a space for it. They notice this kind of stuff.”

You looked around the room. The floor was hardwood, cold, and slightly creaky. You weren’t given much time to settle before Seo-Jun took you to the next floor. “This is the dressing room. We dress the dolls here in outfits when they have to attend events. We also have makeup available, if you don’t know how to use it we can teach you. You are expected to wear makeup, shave, and keep your body healthy while in our care.” There were two older women there. It was the first time you’d seen women in the dollhouse so far.

“This is Jill and Mary. They’re the main doll caretakers and your beauticians. They make you beautiful on the inside and out for our clients. They also help with cooking and cleaning, so please treat them kindly.”

You nodded to them shyly.

Mary cracked a smile. Her caramel brown skin had glitter around her eyes, and her smile was so white even the crayon wouldn’t be able to keep up. Her clothes were simple but chic like she was about to walk a runway. Jill was white, her most notable feature was her colorful hair. Her tattoos, where they could be seen, were amazingly detailed. She had a snake slithering up her throat, ready to bite her chin.

Seo-Jun cleared his throat. “Introduce yourself.”

“O-Oh! I’m y/n.”

Seo-Jun chuckled. “Not that name, remember?”

“I have to use my fake name with other workers too?”

Seo-Jun frowned. “It’s not fake. It’s your name. It’s just a second one to the one you’re born with. And yes, anonymity is our friend here. So use the name that you were given, please.”

You turned to the women, who were smiling expectantly. “Hi… I’m Minsu. I guess.”

Mary spoke first, “You’ll get used to it. It’s a transitory period right now so just take it slow.” Jill nodded in agreement. “Now, you’re here for fitting, right?” You could tell Mary had a slight English accent, but she was suppressing it.

“I’ll leave it to you. Minsu’s a very good boy, he won’t cause any trouble,” Seo-Jun said as he left you with the two women. Mary and Jill were thorough, each taking a side of your body and measuring you. The length of your arms, legs, waist size, and even your bust. 

“So, this will be your first mixer, no?” Mary asked.

You nodded.

“Are we looking for something more cute or sexy with the concept here, Mary?” Jill asked.

“Let’s ask him.” 

Mary looked at you, waiting for you to answer. “Um… I guess cute?”

Jill booed at you. “You’ve got a sexy frame already. We can crop a top, get you loose-fitting shorts, and give you something cozy yet sexy.”

“Jill, let’s respect him here. Minsu doesn’t want that. Plus, he’d look way better in leather and sheer. I already know what you’re thinking. That just won’t work.”

Jill and Mary started holding up pieces over you, arguing about what to give you. Slowly they moved away from the cute vibe you’d asked for… By the end, you had a sheer shirt, black leather pants, with a leather belt around your waist, not your pants, and a gray denim jacket. You were given some silver accessories, rings, and necklaces to try on. 

You’d never worn anything so… revealing. Without your jacket or the design on the front of the shirt, you’d be shirtless. The black sheet was see-through; you could see your stomach in the mirror, and your belt only pulled attention to it. The belt was odd. It was above your pants, so make your waist smaller, so the loops used for belts were altered to move up for the belt to slide through and keep your pants up.

“Minsu, you look great!” Jill exclaimed. 

Mary nodded in agreement. “Jill was right, your body suits a sexier concept anyway. Just keep the jacket on if you’re feeling modest. But if you want to get attention, take it off halfway through the party. Pretend it's warm or something!”

The pair squealed like young girls, rambling about ways to appeal to potential clients. But you were just tired and hungry. “So, when can I eat?”

“Oh, you haven’t eaten?” Jill frowned.

“We’ll get you something light. We don’t want to bloat you too much, since you have the belt on. There’s food at the mixer but remember not to stuff your face.” Mary said as she stepped away.

“Why not?”

“Well, what if a client wants to take you home? You’ll want your body to look its best if you have to perform.” Jill squealed. You hadn’t thought of that. What if someone does show an interest in you? And they want something physical from you… Would you be able to go through with it?

Mary returned with a sliced apple. “This should hold you over for now. The mixer will be soon. We still have to do your hair and makeup. So sit, It’s alright if you doze off, we’ll take good care of you.” You listened, sitting in a studio chair as they started working, one on your hair and the other on your makeup. Like magic, you passed out almost immediately in the chair. When you opened your eyes, they’d just finished their last touches.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty. You look amazing!” You looked into the mirror in front of you. Your eyebrows had been brushed. Your shawling and nose had never been more prominent. And your hair had a shine that you could only really get from a hair salon.

“Thank you… This is great.” You mumbled as you looked over yourself.

The pair smiled triumphantly. “It's all a part of the job! So go knock them out! Seo-Jun will be here any minute to take you to the mixer.” 

They started cleaning as you left the room, going back to your room. There was a mirror on your desk. You used it to study yourself more. Their work was impeccable, with model-quality makeup in such a short time. The alone time you’d found was spoiled quickly with a knock at the door. You answered it to see Seo-Jun waiting.

“Let’s go. Leave your backpack, you can get it later.”

You put the mirror back on your desk and followed Seo-Jun out the door. The venue for the mixer was toward the downtown area in a hotel, one of the large classy ballrooms. There were waitstaff walking with finger food. Many young men, all fashionably dressed, stood around talking to each other. It was intimidating seeing some of them. They could easily be actors and models on the front of magazines… Then there was you, the college kid who wasn’t in the same league as them.

Seo-Jun led you to an empty table. “Okay, you’ll sit here. If anyone comes to you, talk to them respectfully but in a friendly manner. You’re the only doll from our house, all these other ones won’t know you. Remember, Minsu, nothing about your personal life. Or theirs. Keep everything hidden, and tell only what you need to.”

You nodded nervously. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and point you out to a few people.” Seo-Jun turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm. He was all you’d known for the last week. And now he was leaving you alone at a table at this huge party. “If you want to be a baby, do that to clients. But with me don’t be a baby, I’ll be watching the whole time. Nothing will happen to you.” He pulled his hand away and walked off, talking to a few men in suits.

The mixer began shortly after. Men started slowly filling the room, all dressed in formal clothes, from suits or high-end outfits. Not one paid you any mind. You were relieved that no one was interested in you. You occasionally looked around the room, searching for Seo-Jun with little luck. The first hour was a panic fest, silently hoping no one would sit at your table and talk to you. In the second hour, some clients found who they liked talking to and stuck to certain areas. Some dolls had almost seven men around them at any time. In the third hour, some dolls left with their partners. 

Thankfully, not one person seemed interested in you. You’d been sitting so long that your legs started to fall asleep. You’d tried your best to eat any time the servers walked past you with a plate, but the buffet at the other end of the room was almost calling you. Cautiously, looking over your shoulders, you stood and made your way over. Walking like you knew what to do, or like you belonged. The table was full of interesting foods you’d never tried. Mostly seafood and assorted fruits. You took a plate and started stacking it with whatever seemed the yummiest, which was one of everything!

It wasn’t until you reached the end that you realized how much you’d grabbed. It wouldn’t all fit on your plate. If you tried walking back to your seat, you’d drop something… You turned, slowly toward your table when you bumped into someone, keeping the damage under control. You don’t drop your food! 

The person in front of you let out a heavy sigh. You looked forward, a huge spot on their shirt from where you’d bumped into them.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed.

He shook his head. “It’s alright, you didn’t mean to.”

You put your plate down on a nearby table. You slid the sleeve of your jacket down, making it slide off your shoulder, as you rubbed the spot. It didn’t look like it was going to clean neatly. “I’m really sorry. I can take it and get it washed?” You suggested as you looked at the man’s face.

You realized he was extremely familiar–like celebrity familiar. He had a middle part with long dark hair that draped his eyes. His jawline was sharp, and his eyebrows knitted together in frustration. 

“Do I know you?” You asked.

“Uh, no. We don’t know each other.” The man assured.

The spot wasn’t getting any better and some people were starting to stare. “How about you take my jacket for now?” You slid off your jacket, showing off your top completely to the room.

“Oh, I–That’s not necessary.” The man said, looking away from you. “Just put your jacket back on.”

“I insist! I ruined your shirt!” More people started staring, and whispering. 

“Fine! I’ll take it, just give it!” He snatched the jacket from you, pulling it over himself as he looked down. His long hair covered his face as he looked around. 

“Do you have a table? You can sit with me, and we can talk about getting your shirt cleaned.”

The man nodded again. “Fine, just take me away from here.”

You took him to your table in the corner of the room, where you’d spent the last three hours alone. Many more people were watching you this time than when you’d left. Maybe Jill was right about your shirt… It made you a little self-conscious with so much staring. You pulled out a chair for the man and sat next to him.

“I’m y-Minsu! It’s nice to meet you.” You put your hand out.

“Are things always like this?” 

You shrugged. “This is my first time here, so I don’t really know.”

The man looked around the room, acknowledging the looks. “Well… That’s nice.”

You sat awkwardly as you looked at him. You noticed Seo-Jun behind him, toward the other end of the room, motioning something to you. Talk to him?

“So, Mister? What brings you here?” You asked,

“You don’t need to call me that. My name’s Jay. I… came here for something stupid and I don’t think I should’ve come.”

You smiled at him. “You sound like someone made you come here. I didn’t want to be here either. I was so worried that someone would talk to me, but it turns out that no one would even pay attention to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just… don’t think this is my sort of party. And I’m not very good at meeting new people. I’m only here because I have to.”

Jay nodded. “I get that. I really only came because my members teased me about not meeting any new people.”

“Members?”

Jay’s eyes flickered to you. “Y-Yeah. I’m a part of a group. I’m a performer.”

“Whoa! Do you make music? I’d love to listen to it.”

Jay smirked. “It’s not me who makes the music. But I dabble.”

“I don’t have my phone. Tell me your band, and I’ll try to remember it.”

Jay leaned close to you to whisper, “I’m a member of Enhypen.”

You blinked. The words echoed in your brain before you looked at the man again. That’s where you’d seen him! He was Jay from Enhypen, and he was talking to you. “O-Oh, yeah I’ve heard of that group before.”

“Oh? Are you a fan?” Jay smiled. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”

“I’m not trying to be weird. I am a fan, but if you wanna forget about it or talk to someone else–”

“No. You’re funny. And I think it would be better to spend time with a fan.” Jay slipped your jacket off and placed it over your shoulders. “I think this suits you better than me, by the way.” Your heart was fluttering a mile a minute. Jay said he wanted to spend time with you and even draped a jacket over your shoulders. Eun would be foaming at the mouth at this point.

“Could I ask why you’re at an all-guy mixer?”

“You can, but then I’d ask you the same question.”

“Touche…” You chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m here for another hour. So we can chat… or whatever.”

Jay smirked. “Would you wanna talk somewhere else?”

You nodded. “I’m cool with that. It beats talking here, with all the staring.”

“Then let’s roll,” Jay said as he stood. You followed him as he led you out of the room. You spotted Seo-Jun who gave you a thumbs-up as you passed by. Jay took you to a room in the hotel. It had an amazing view since it was on a higher floor.

“Jay, check this out! It’s so high!” You cheered.

“So, uh. I’m kind of awkward at this since I’ve never done it. I don’t have any preferences or anything. I’d be okay to start and see how it goes.” Jay said.

You turned around to see Jay sitting on the bed in the room. “What?”

“Isn’t this the part where we… do stuff?” Jay raised an eyebrow.

Your face went warm. You hadn’t thought about the context of things until now. Jay was at a party to meet a partner to spend the night with… and he’d chosen you. And like an idiot you accepted thinking he just wanted to talk.

“I-I…”

“Is it more of a, I tell you what to do?” Jay stood, walking toward you. “I’m new to this whole thing, so I’d appreciate it if you could help me.”

You couldn’t form the words you wanted. All of the thoughts in your mind couldn’t fit the situation in front of you. “I-I’m new too,” was all that you could muster.

“Well, that works for the both of us then. We can figure it out together…” Jay approached you until the both of you were at the window. Your back against it, he leaned his arm on the glass near your head. “Let’s just go slow.” 

Jay’s tone was calm and empathetic as if he were as worried as you were. He slid his free hand behind your neck and kissed you softly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you placed your hands against his chest, letting him move as he pleased. It was a peck at first. Just a touch, a test. Then Jay leaned in again for a kiss, your lips meeting for longer. His nose brushed yours as he started to move his lips experimentally to find what he liked…

[princesssmars]

victoria with lab tech reader…nsfw.

when you were approached at your basic post-grad biomedical science research program with the opportunity to "study and develop a potentially groundbreaking medication", you immediately, but politely, called bullshit. but your boss and coworkers encouraged you once they heard the pay, so you accepted.

it was…challenging to say the least.

the lab and the workers were shady as hell, not telling you any details about the company you were working for, if you were even working for a company, what exactly this medication was for, etc etc. but the pay really was good, enough to help you splurge on yourself while also saving and paying off your student loans, so you couldn’t really complain.

after about two months of great work and progress on your tasks, the leads of your team told you that one of the head donors would like to “talk about utilizing your full potential”. you were expecting further praise for your work and maybe a pay boost, not to walk into an office with the super attractive congresswoman you’d seen on tv sitting at the desk.

she has just as much mysterious charisma as she had then, keeping eye contact as she pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before she places herself on top of the desk, pantsuit-covered leg only a few inches from yours. she gives you a mini rundown of why she personally picked you out from your university and she's been keeping a close eye on your personal progress to develop a cure for an unknown but deadly disease you had been keeping track of.

"so that's why im here? we're working on a disease?"

"yeah, you could say that."

her smile unnerves you but you don't mention it. nor do you bring up how weird it feels that a congresswoman would be following your manic studies over a disease that only ten thousand people in the world had. you do have to reel in your ego slightly, figuring this meant that your theories were legitimate.

things are weird after that. now that you have some more hints about what you are actually doing your work starts to move along slowly, even impressing your lead with the progress you started to make.

ok, maybe a tiny little part of it was so that when victoria came in on her weekly walk-throughs she'd observe your work and give you that pretty smile of hers, maybe even a 'great job, hun' if you were lucky.

as the weeks went by and the medication came along her affection only grew in intensity, from leaving coffee at your workstation to inviting you to take lunch breaks with her. it was odd and completely unprofessional, but when those slender fingers would move one of your stray hairs back in place while telling a story you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

but then it happens - that dreaded period in any medical science where just one stupid little thing stumps you for a week. you should be used to it at this point, having been through this process since you bought your first microscope in middle school. it doesn't make it any easier to power through though, especially when you know everyone on your team is depending on you to finish up your labs.

so now you've resorted to this, three red bulls and a heap of paperwork around you while you frantically rework the math on some of the work you need to turn in. you're a few minutes away from slumping over when a loud door slam forces you upright, looking to the entryway to make eye contact with victoria.

you dont know how it happens but you go from hunched over in your chair to lying on the comfy couch in her office, a short blanket draped over your body as you drowsily explain your conundrum to the older woman. she nods along the entire time, a soft hand rubbing up and down the bare expanse of your arm while she listens to your rambling.

'what on earth are you doing?' your brain asks yourself when you shift closer to her body that's sitting next to you, head delicately resting in her lap. 'are you really going to jeopardize your career like this?' when your eyes flutter when she runs her hand over your cheek and down your neck. she leans her head down ever so slowly until her lips are just barely pressing into yours, corners pulling up when she sees you arch your back in wait for her neck action.

"but you'll figure it out for me, won't you smart girl?"

you solved the problem the next morning.

i dont even wanna write for her GIVE HER BACK TO ME

[androgynouscomputerthing]

this post is a repost of an amazing reddit post by u/throwaway6372801 on the r/MoDaoZuShi subreddit.

https://www.reddit.com/r/MoDaoZuShi/s/GeHsDKCFON

Growing up in a Chinese brothel and how it may relate to Jin Guangyao/Meng Yao as a character

Just to start off I would like to preface that I’m not excusing his crimes, only putting in perspective parts of his character that I personally resonate with based on similarities. I will start off discussing how brothels and debts tend to work, especially involving children.

I will not be releasing where I grew up nor my name due to privacy reasons as I have somewhat personal information about myself on this account, despite its name.

But in short, I grew up in a brothel in China with my mother. She worked as a prostitute out of desperation and debt, which I ended up also helping with.

Debt was accumulated through food, housing, water, electricity, makeup, clothes, anything that we were unable to pay for ourselves and had to ‘take out a loan’ for. Things necessary for my mother to work, such as makeup, also fell into this category. This is not to mention baby items which were even more expensive and often times couldn’t be stretched out to last as long as other items.

Your co-workers are not your friends. You may both be in this situation, you may both have children, but if you cannot afford it, kindness is not an option. You have to be callous to survive.

On the same subject, politeness is a sought after commodity. If you can have a convincing smile, laugh, anything of the sort. Lying as well, if you can’t convince the man about to rape your child that they can’t because you would be ‘jealous’, you and your child are cooked.

Selling a child isn’t uncommon either. If someone has a particularly low-paying client who happens to be ugly or undesirable, they may offer the nearest person to them, not uncommonly a child that’s either their or one of their co-workers’.

Being a woman in a brothel is not a ‘women supporting women’ place. It is survival. And yes, some people are just evil, and will try and sell the child of a better paid co-worker than work themselves.

It doesn’t matter how pitiful you look, though it can help, you cannot stop it.

Onto Meng Yao. I will be calling him that since at this point in his life, he was indeed called Meng Yao.

We see when Wei Wuxian performs Empathy, that he goes into the body of Anxin. We as the readers get a glimpse into Meng Yao’s childhood at the brothel. It’s brief, and mostly focuses on the event of his mother, Meng Shi, being dragged naked into the streets, with himself after (fully dressed). Sisi comes to their defence.

But what I think that most people forget is that earlier, Anxin tries to sell Meng Yao to a customer. Not an uncommon thing to see in a brothel sadly.

We as the readers also are aware of Meng Yao’s signature ‘customer service smile’. This is pretty common with people in the customer service industry. Where you have to keep people happy to keep them from screaming at you. I have no doubt that this is likely a learned behaviour from his childhood at the brothel. All my fellow brothel brats, as well as myself, default to it as well.

Another response is possibly immediate lying/not taking fault in a situation where you are obviously at fault or have been caught red-handed. Think the scene of Meng Yao stabbing the Jin Captain and being caught be Nie Mingjue. Reading this scene, it always felt more like when a child drops a plate and immediately points to the dog to avoid punishment. While the child was clearly at fault, they took the blame off of themselves in an act of self-preservation. I’m not claiming that he was right here, just that his response makes sense to me. I have found myself and many others with a similar background doing it as well.

Well, that was definitely long. I don’t want to come off like I’m ridding Meng Yao of all his faults. I’m only trying to shed light on how some of his responses to things make sense given his upbringing, as well as maybe give people an insight as to how horrible brothels can be, especially to children.

If your mother is the only kind person to you, she is your whole world.

In addition, prostitution is often called ‘the first profession’ or ‘the oldest job’. I think this rings very true. Much of the practices mentioned have been practiced for centuries and likely will continue to be practiced for centuries to come.

If anyone decided to sit through and read everything, thank you. I would also like to apologise in advance for any grammatical or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language. I’m pretty all over the place here so apologies for that as well.

Edit: I forgot to mention the disgust and prejudice that people hold to this day. Meng Yao serving tea and it being seen as ‘tainted’ is a sentiment still somewhat held to this day. Same with him not being allowed to hold Jin Ling due to his perceived ‘dirtiness’. It’s something that is sad but true, and follows people for their entire lives. You will never be clean, due only to the circumstances of your birth and childhood, as well as a desperate attempt to survive. Prostitution is not something people aspire to achieve generally. If they do, they likely don’t understand the long term effects and social stigma that isn’t just limited to you.

Edit 2: Safety is another huge thing, especially for formal brothel brats. Safety comes with power. I’m not excusing Meng Yao’s use of getting power, he definitely used certain means that I don’t agree with. But especially growing up in that setting safety = power. I was given the advice many times growing up to cling to a powerful man in hopes that I become his wife, as that would grant me safety and stability. Many of the children I grew up with ended up working alongside their mothers or turning to drug dealing and criminal activity, which in turn gave them power. I think that what we learn growing up has a huge impact on people as adults. It can be very difficult to unlearn these associations.

Last edit, more of an update: I would like to thank everyone and extend that thanks on behalf of my mother. We are both doing well now. We have both come to America and I have started my own family in the past few months. She has a new job and recently moved. She’s very happy and has many friends here. Thank you all for your kindness and well wishes. Have a lovely day!

screenshots of the original post as well as my messages. cut off, but she did approve this post.

[doomtrooper77]

I've got a story to accompany this image. You can read it below. It is not a cute romantic story; it is more like my images. So, if that is not your thing, skip the story. If you do, let me know what you think of it.

Wrong Side of the Tracks

I had been in the bar for an hour already. It was one of those places off the beaten track where everyone went from what some would call the wrong side of the tracks. Mind you, this place wasn’t rundown. It just wasn’t fancy. The long wooden bar was polished, and the stools were worn but comfortable. Booths lined the wall opposite the bar. In the back of the bar were some big couches and chairs in an open area. Every seating surface was made of that old-school leather that got patina but never grew thin, never ripped. It was all cushioned just right for sitting and drinking the night away. Behind the bar was bottle after bottle of every liquor you could think of. Cases full of bottles of beer and more than a few on tap. However, don’t come in asking for some fancy new-fangled Microbrew bullshit. This wasn’t that kind of place.

Most people who came here were working-class people who came in for drinks and bar food. People who worked with their hands or on their feet all day. You had some white-collar folks sprinkled in, but mostly people who grew up in the neighborhood who managed to get a job downtown but still came back to visit friends and family in the area. That’s not to say it also didn’t have more seedier visitors. It was also a place where locals on the "wrong" side of the law congregated. Depending on the day of the week and the time, there was little you couldn’t find here if you knew the right person to ask.

You need a loan. There was a table in the back where some gentlemen of Italian persuasion sat most days. They were happy to give you some money for a hefty fee. If you needed something to bring you up or down, there was usually someone you could talk to to provide you with whatever you needed. But they couldn’t sell it in the bar. Business of that sort was not allowed in the bar; discussing it was different. If you needed someone’s leg broken, there was someone who you could talk to about that.

The bar was situated behind several warehouses and buildings in an old light industrial part of the city. You had to know where it was to find it and drive a maze of access roads and streets to find it. The bar had an address but didn’t appear on Waze or Google Maps.  The lot was big enough for everything from Harleys to big rigs.  The lot is dim, with most of the light coming from other businesses outside its perimeter.

I was on my 3rd beer when I heard the Harley outside. It was cold in the Midwest in November, but the hardcore bikers rode in the cold air. I was sitting midway down the bar when the door opened, and the crowd started parting. People quickly moved aside, even to the point where they pressed against others to get out of the way of the approaching figure. I got a glimpse of him just as he passed. I thought, “Jesus, he's gotten even bigger!”  He walked past, and you could feel his aura move with him. Predator. It was the only way to describe it. Some construction workers were drinking a few feet down, and one of the bigger guys either didn’t see him coming or had decided he was the alpha in the room. The biker didn’t change his step; his massive shoulders plowed through the big construction worker, pushing him into his buddies and spilling his beer down his shirt.

“Hey FUCK WAD, watch where you’re going!” The big construction worker said. He was big, about 6’5, and easily 280-290 solid pounds. You can tell he was used to being the big guy in the room. The area around them quieted as the biker turned around and took two steps back. I got a good look at him then. He was about 6’2, so shorter than the construction worker. However, everything else about the biker made the construction worker seem small. He had actual doorway-wide shoulders.  Arms are truly as thick as a healthy man's leg. Massive pecs encased under the leather vest. His lats push his massive arms away from his body at a freaking 45-degree angle. A neck so massive that it seemed like his huge shoulders just met his head somehow.  The part of my brain that was pretty damn good at calculating a man's size and weight told me at least 375 actual pounds.

One of the construction workers whispered “shit” as he pulled on his friend's arm. The bigger construction worker was wiping beer from his shirt and shook his friend's arm off as he looked up. Both men’s eyes met, and something happened. Guys know the feeling when you are in a situation where you quickly find out that you are not the alpha in the room. The biker took another step forward and pushed his chest into that of the construction worker. The biker tilted his head to that angle some guys do when trying to figure out how badly they will hurt someone. Not if, but how much. Everything around them quieted and stopped.

I could only see part of the construction workers' faces, but I could see the anger drain quickly away to be replaced by fear.  The Biker saw it and stepped into him more, pushing him back on his friends. Something like a wave of heat seemed to pass over me, and I could feel the raw dominance coming off that biker. It was like being on the edge of a violent storm. You can feel the air pressure change and smell the lightning as it crashes just feet away. Or it is like being on the edge of a vast forest fire, watching a fire tornado spin feet away and your skin both dry and slick with sweat simultaneously.

I felt my balls shrink up and throb at the same time.  “Sorry. Sorry.. man, I’m sorry,” the Big Construction worker was saying. No longer meeting the biker’s gaze, he said, “Sorry I bumped into ya. My fault. Sorry, sorry.”  The Biker stayed crowded in his space for another 15 seconds, stepped back, and looked at the construction workers' buddies, who all looked away. He turned to walk to the back of the bar to the area where the couches and chairs were. There was a dangerous and knowing smirk on his face.

Within seconds, the bar's sounds returned to normal, and people moved on as if nothing had happened—except for the construction workers. Those guys threw money on the bar, paid their tab, and quickly left.

However, I was now intrigued—no, make that obsessed—with the monster in the back of the bar. Over the next hour, I made my way down the bar toward the back of the room. I could see he was sitting with several other bikers and rough-looking men. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing but could see them on the sly. He filled one of the club chairs, his mass covering it completely. He wore this leather vest, black jeans, and big black harness boots. Out of the group, he talked the least.

A couple in the booth was just on the edge of the sitting area, which had a perfect view.  They left when I almost convinced myself that my little spy game had gone as far as it should. Before they could get two steps away from the booth, I slid into it. The waitress came over, and I got another beer.  I took out my phone and pretended to be scrolling on it while I was sneaking peaks at the monster. My cock was so hard in my pants that I had to squirm around a bit to give it room.  Knowing I might never see this guy again, I discreetly turned on my camera and videoed him. I kept making gestures like I was scrolling and typing, but I was filming his every twitch and flex.

I ended up drinking another two beers while getting more and more footage. The angle I had the camera meant I really couldn’t see my screen. I might have noticed when he started looking at me if I had. Only when I looked up to sneak another peek I saw two pools of steel looking at me.  Eyes so bright and grey that they seemed to glow, and they were looking at me. Not glancing but staring at me. I could feel the weight of his attention. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” was all I could think.  As nonchalantly as possible, I slowly angled my phone away, and while pretending to be texting, I shut off the camera. It was time to go. I couldn’t dare look up at him to see if he was still looking, but I knew. I could feel it—the heat and pressure of his attention.

I had two problems. My cock was still rock hard, and I needed to piss badly. So badly, I thought that if I tried to make it to my car, I would piss myself. SHIT. I took out my wallet and threw 50 bucks and an OK tip on the table. Every second felt like my bladder was going to burst. SHIIIT. Taking a deep breath, I causually stood up with my hand in my pocket, trying to hold my boner down, and started walking across the bar to the hallway with the bathrooms. My brain screamed don’t look at him, my cock, on the other hand, throbbed under my fingers and said, come on one last look.

Glancing in his direction as I walked past the men who sat in front of him, I saw his head turn and track me. Like some goddamn tiger or something. I got to the bathroom and made it to the urinal, and let out 5 beers worth of piss. My hard cock throbbing in my hand the entire time. When I finished, my cock had gone to semi-hard. Stuffing it back in my pants, I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and told myself to walk out of the bar. Walk out of the bathroom and straight out the bar, not looking at him or anyone. Out the bar and to my car.  Go home. Go home and watch all of the videos you took of that beast. My cock twitched and started to harden again.

I opened the door, turned to go down the hallway, and ran into a wall of beef. He stood there, his massive body filling the dim hallway, waiting. I bounced off him and stumbled back two steps. I looked up at his face and those eyes. My body froze. I can’t explain it. I FROOZE. He looked at me, his head tilted as if he were deciding something. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. For seconds, I couldn’t say anything. Then I remembered what happened with the guy up front. I quickly said, “Sorry. Excuse me for bumping into you.”  

He started moving toward me. I backed up a step, thinking he was headed to the bathroom. But he wasn’t. He kept walking past the bathroom, and now he was against me. His massive body pushes me forward, my backward pace struggling to keep up. “Uh wait, hey, umm, excuse me.” Every nonsensical word came out of my mouth, and he kept pushing me back down the hallway. I started to fall backward, and I felt this massive hand grab my shirt and keep me upright. With no effort, he lifted me on my toes and carried me down the darkening hall. I kept mumbling until he said, “Shut up.” He didn’t yell. He gave an order and expected it to be followed.

We turned a corner and went down another short hall. There was an exit door. He pushed me through it into the night. Behind the bar, it was virtually pitch black, only lit by moonlight and his eyes. He walked us 50 feet behind a brick shed and pushed me against the wall.  His beard split into a hard grin, and he said, “Phone.”

Stunned and terrified, I said, “What?”

I have never had anyone grab me by my throat and lift me off the ground before. His massive hand clamped around my neck; his other hand went to my pants pocket and ripped out my phone.  Still holding me up with one hand, his other expertly clicks the button to turn the screen on. It was locked. He looked at me and then at the phone. I expected he would demand the lock code. Instead, he turned my head to face the phone and held it up. Even in the dim moonlight, it recognized my face and unlocked it.

The massive hand that wasn’t throttling me expertly moved over the screen. His big fingers press and swipe my screen. The screen lit up his face. Harsh, rough, brutally handsome. In a few seconds, I heard the sound of the bar playing from my speaker.  His hand tightened on my throat.  I watched his face as he scrubbed through the video. His brutal features were darkening. The aura of potential violence made the air thick.

He turned the phone so I could see the video playing, which showed him staring at me and the camera from minutes ago. He pulled me down and leaned all of his weight into me, crushing me to the shed wall. He leaned in where our faces were touching. His steel grey eye was less than an inch from my own, staring into my eye like a laser beam. His beard rubbed against mine as his mouth was next to my ear. His hot, angry breath blew across my ear and neck.  It was intimate. Fear can be intimate.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you videoing me.” He said. His voice was deep, and his words were spoken normally, but the power behind them made me shiver.  My brain went blank. Words just tumbled from my mouth. Apologies. Explanations. Gibberish. I could see the rage ignite in his eyes as he pressed himself against me fully and repeated himself more forcefully. He asked again, and the anger and potential violence in his voice made my legs weak.

Then froze.  His eyes stayed locked to mine. His head tilted. He let go of my neck and reached down between us.  My brain may have been terrified and incapable of action; however, my cock was having the time of its life.  It could care less that this 390-pound monster was about to rip us apart. All it cared about was that 390-pound monster crushing and grinding me into the wall behind us. I felt the biker’s massive hand grab my hard cock.

The heat in his eyes was still there, in suspension.  Lifting my phone back up, I watched as he expertly tapped, swiped, and scrubbed through my phone. We stood that way for almost 3-4 minutes. I heard numerous videos I had saved to my phone from Leather sites, Raw Fuck Club, videos saved from Twitter and Pornhub. He flicked through them, and all the while, my throbbing cock was crushed by his hand.

Looking back at me, his eyes were still full of heat. “Is that it puppy? You getting some more jerk off material on your phone?” My fear is now joined with shame. SHIT. Shame giving me the power to look away.  His big hand squeezes my cock painfully, and he says, “I asked you a question, boy! You’re videoing me so you can jerk this thing off later?” His hand squeezed and pulled my cock roughly through my jeans. It throbbed and twitched with excitement.

I mumbled, “Yes.”

His face gets close to his mind, and the anger is back in his voice, “Speak up, boy! You got the balls to be filming me for your personal pleasure, be man enough to say it!”

“Yes, that is why I was filming you,” I said.

“Why me?” He said, his voice clearly expecting an answer.

I paused. Thinking of what to say.  Decided on the truth. “I’ve never seen anyone like you. As big as you are.  As tough as you are. As strong as you are.  As mean and scary.“ I stopped myself from going further.

He let go of my cock and pressed himself hard against me, crushing me more than before. “You like’em big and scary, huh?” His face was close to mind. “I’m 400 fucking pounds of the meanest and scariest motherfucker you gonna ever meet, boy.”  He pushed his mouth close to my ear and said, “I do mean and scary shit for fun. Are you sure you want that?” He fucking growled like a beast in my ear.

My cock didn’t give my brain time to think, so I quietly said, “Yes.”

He growled in my ear and crushed me even more against the wall. “Mean and scary it is.” He said.

Spinning me around, he pushed me face-first into the brick wall. He reached around, grabbed the front of my pants, and unbuckled my belt. He slid the belt off. Before I knew what was happening, he had made a loop out of it, put it around my neck, and pulled it tight. “There we go, puppy needs a leash.” He said. I was up on my toes. My skin was hot and cold. Excited and scared.

I felt his other hand grab the back of my jeans and yank. There was a ripping sound, and I tried to grab his hand to keep him from ripping my jeans. “Hey, I can take them down…” I never finished that sentence because I felt a fist hit me in the kidneys. Bright pain lanced up my side, and my legs went weak.

Pressing up against me, he said, “Understand this puppy. You’ve got three jobs right now. One, do what I say and nothing but what I say. Two, do whatever you can to make sure I enjoy using you however I want. Three, Survive. Do one and two well, and three shouldn’t be a problem. You fuck around thinking this is some date, and I can show you a whole other level of mean and scary. Do you understand me, boy?”

“ Yes, Sir.” I said.

He laughed roughly as his hand grabbed my jeans and ripped a big hole in the center. His hand reached through the hole to grab my shorts and grab one of the ass straps of my jock. He chuckled, “You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

I felt him step back and heard a zipper. He growled deeply again and pressed himself against me. I could feel his hot throbbing cock rub against my ass. He ground his hips back and forth and side to side. Fuck, it was huge. I could feel it throb and twitch as it moved across my skin. He slid it up my back and around my hips so I could feel how big it was.  I whimpered a bit in lust and fear. Leaning in, he growled, “Everything about me is big and scary.”

He slides his now hard cock between my ass cheeks, stretching the cheeks apart with-it’s size. I feel him let out a deep, growling breath as he crushes me between him and the wall.  I felt the big, veiny flesh slide up and down my hole. Yanking on the belt, he growls, “Open up.” He pushes his way in. Fuck its, huge. So damn thick. It just keeps sliding and sliding in. My breath is coming in short gasps. He chuckles as it pushes all the way in. I can feel his pubic hair and zipper teeth on my ass.  I want to yell, but the belt is pulled tight on my neck.

“That’s it, puppy. Take it. Take it all.” He says, grinding his massive body against mine. His cock throbbing deep inside me. Soon, he got a steady stroke going. His strokes are solid and deep. His powerlifting hips alternate from jackhammering into me to crushing me against the wall between him and the shed. He’s growling and breathing behind me like an animal. My legs are weak from the pounding.

I feel him loosen his grip on the belt, grab my hair, and pull my head to the side. I feel his thick beard rub across my neck. I moan as he rubs across that spot. The spot that makes me squirm when the right man finds it. He knows and licks across it. My body shakes. Then I felt his mouth bite down on that spot. Every nerve in my body cuts on and off. His hungry mouth bites and gnaws at my neck. Never breaking the skin. Holding me in place as his massive body goes into overdrive. Powerfucking me against the wall. I feel like a rhino is ramming into me. Time blurs and I don’t know if it has been 5 minutes or 15, but this monster has stamina. His pounding has never stopped.

I’ve never been used like this. I feel his stroke change, and by the 4th stroke, he explodes inside of me. Shot after shot, painting my insides. So much cum. So much I can feel it leaking around his cock and down my legs. He keeps his cock inside me until the absolute last twitch is done. When he pulls it out, I can feel more of it soaking my jeans.

I feel him step back and hear him say, “Turn around, boy.”  My legs are weak and wobbly. I feel like I have just lost a boxing match or been used like a tackling dummy.

He’s looking at me. Fuck he seems even bigger now. A huge fucking shadow in the moonlight.

I can barely see his face, but his eyes shine as he says. “You are not fucking done.” Looking down and then back up, he says. “Clean me up.” I look down, and his cock is still semi-hard and twitching. “You can get on your knees, or I can put you there. Get to work.”

Getting to my knees, I lean forward and take him in my mouth. Just like when he was fucking me against the wall, his hands were soon clamped on the side of my head, and his hips were thrusting his cock deep into my throat. The more I choke, cough, and sputter, the more he likes it. By the time he was done, I was a messy fleshlight. He dumped three more loads down my throat. His big dick was like a firehose. I was so full, weak, and used that I just lay on the ground.

I felt his boot push me over to my back. His huge shadow was standing over me. He puts his boot on my chest, bends down, and shines my phone in my face again. He turns it back around, and I watch as he flicks through it again, stopping a few times.  “You didn’t do lousy tonight, boy. You managed to survive.” Putting real pressure on his boot and my chest, he repeats my home address, work address, and that of my sister. Nothing more, his threat was implicit.  “You better start working out more because next time, tonight will look like foreplay.” Then I watched his massive hand squeeze, and he crushed my phone like it was nothing. It sparked, and smoke started coming out of the cracked sides. I watch him lean back and throw the now burning hunk of glass and metal far further than anyone should be able to. “You need a new phone, puppy.” He says as he walks off into the darkness.  In the next few minutes, I heard a Harley start up and drive away.

Sometime later, I managed to get up and find my way to the parking lot. I smile as I gingerly get in my car, thinking about the cloud backup I have turned on for pictures and video on my phone. I do need a new phone. My dick twitches in anticipation.

[kopiicryptid]

Can you yap about Squidwashing?

Oh my god OP you're gonna so regret this/lh

SquidWashing AU: LORE EDITION‼️

CW: Spoilers for Mouthwashing and Season 2 of Squidgames, mentions of death, assault, what you can typically expect from these two medias.

Gonna start by discussing the world-building then hop to the characters!!

So in this universe, Pony Express is still a giant company, although far from financial ruin. They're actually more of monopoly if anything, just consuming more and more business enterprises. While the company itself isn't majorly relevant to the plot, I like to think the people up top are somewhat involved as VIPS or sponsors of the game. Part of me is tempted to say that Polle is also an actual person in this AU as the one in charge of the games or even as player 001 in season 1.

In addition, the layoffs are still relevant in this AU. With the rise of AI and technology, they ended up dismissing a huge portion of their workforce to cut costs and because human labor has become unnecessary. However, the real ulterior motive here is that they laid off employees that they knew were financially struggling a.k.a. most of the lower-working class in their company, which in turn creates more fodder for the games. It's a coincidence that Pony Express just can't help but to take advantage of.

The games themselves are held on a massive ship in space, called the Kraken. It travels far from where usual transport lines cross so there's little chance of the contestants being found. It's only close enough to some lines just for the sake of importing materials and things needed on board, otherwise, you can argue that all the contestants are practically stranded in space. Given that rich people are investing in this, there's enough money for them to build giant rooms and decks on this ship, along with utilizing technology like simulators, holograms, etc for the games.

Now onto the players!

Curly - #456

It's obvious that he of all people plays our main lead, player 456 in place of Gi-Hun. He's won the game before so now he's back to save people and put an end to it. His first time in the games was mostly people he didn't know aside from a couple of coworkers he's known for quite some time and people from long ago. Either way, it's enough for him to feel such survivor's guilt that he can't just sit back and do nothing.

As to why he's in the games, it's partially similar to Gi-Hun's. Years ago he participated in a worker's strike against Pony Express, one that got violent and left him with some PTSD. Ever since, he's been struggling to hold a job due to how technology-driven their world is, most piloting jobs are done by automatic systems so he ends up doing odd jobs here and there, small deliveries and such for cheap. However, losing his job from PE left him with crippling debts that have yet to be paid, and it doesn't help either that he had a habit of loaning money to less fortunate friends of his, so there's not much for him in the bank.

After the first games, Curly, like Gi-Hun, spent his money and time investigating the games, but it all boiled down to him knowing that it'd be near impossible to take it down from the outside. He'd have to do so within the games themselves. During his investigations, he also discovered the potential involvement of Pony Express, yet there's still not enough evidence for him to present...

Anya - #222

Although this was another obvious choice, I'd like to say there's a lot of change in terms of Anya's story and that of #222's/Jun-Hee's. Anya is still pregnant in this AU and yes it's Jimmy's (I'll get to that in a bit), but instead of wanting the money so that she can raise the baby, it's so she can afford the abortion and have money left over for medical school because of how the procedure would take all the money she has left.

Now for the pregnancy, I still wanted to make it Jimmy's because I didn't want to erase that from the source media after all. The two know each other only because were coworkers at some minimum wage job, but they weren't that close. You might ask why doesn't Anya tell the others about Jimmy, she can't. In this AU, all of them are strangers to each other except for Curly, Jimmy, and Swansea, and Swansea only knows Curly. She wouldn't feel comfortable just dropping that bomb onto a bunch of strangers, it’s not an easy thing to confess something so personal to someone you just met. Especially when she realizes that Curly and Jimmy are close friends. Not to mention, I don't think she'd want this to define her, Anya would try to focus on the games themselves without causing further unnecessary drama. She knows this team is the only group she can rely on to survive, so she's taking advantage of it all she wants, even if it means dealing with Jimmy. There's no point in bringing up something that could tear them all apart or worse, put her on Jimmy's hit list.

In a way, these two have a mutual understanding that the r*pe is something they're keeping under wraps because Jimmy knows Anya has the power to tear him down with it, and doing so is Anya's way of keeping Jimmy in check. A way for her to regain some kind of control over him, if you will.

Jimmy - #001

Jimmy's story is the most different from his character here, and I envision his storyline and personality being a mix of #218/Sang-Woo from S1 and #001/Frontman from S2. He went to piloting school with Curly and was fairly good at it. He and Curly were close friends, although they slowly drifted after graduation due to their jobs. Jimmy fell from grace when he kept screwing up jobs and got reported at work one too many times, that and a few problems in his personal life like getting into fights, picking up bad habits, etc, going from a dependable pilot to a washed-up nobody leeching off of all his connections.

It should be obvious why Jimmy's in the games but what's less obvious is why he's a traitor. Rather than being the Frontman, Jimmy's working with the Frontman. After hearing that Curly was coming back to the games to stop them and then finding out that Jimmy used to be a close friend of his, the Frontman struck a deal that they'd guarantee Jimmy moderate assistance in the games, in exchange for keeping Curly in line. And of course, Jimmy took the deal with no hesitation, but in reality, he's just another pawn on the board.

And like #222's ex in the show, Jimmy at one point goes to Anya and tries to convince her to keep the baby, that their money combined will be enough for them to start a family. Obviously, this is just a tactic for Jimmy to control most of the finances and it's him fooling himself, thinking that he could 'turn a new page' by pursuing a 'normal' life. Anya declines, and rightfully so.

Swansea - #390

Ironically, Swansea is the most disconnected from #390/Jung-Bae in terms of personality, yet his story is quite fitting. Alongside Curly, Swansea was a participant in the PE worker strikes, which also meant that he lost his job and ended up with barely enough to support his family, especially with his looming alcoholism. On the brink of a divorce, Swansea joined the games in hopes that the money would convince his wife to stay with the kids and that he could afford rehab in the process. He's simply a man who wants to keep his family together, but deep down, there's a cynical part of him that just wonders what would happen if he let it all fall apart then and there.

Out of everyone aside from Anya, Swansea was the first to catch onto how suspicious Jimmy was, confirmed only when he witnessed Jimmy kill another player without hesitance, just like Jung-Bae did with the Frontman. On a different note, Swansea has the same slight parental instinct that Jung-Bae did to #388, who in this case, is obviously Daisuke.

In relation to Curly, Swansea is closer to Curly here than in the games, mainly for the fact that they were coworkers for years in Pony Express and kept some contact after the strikes. I like to think Swansea invited Curly to his home on occasion, and that his wife welcomed him too, pitying that such a nice man was struggling so much.

Daisuke - #388

After seeing so much fanart of Daisuke and #388/Dae-Ho, I had to watch S2 and jump on this AU, so thank that for the reason I'm even yapping. Daisuke's backstory is also different here, maybe a little drastically. Daisuke and his mom were refugees escaping a warring region when he was fairly young. Years later, they became citizens of the region they're in and are considerably well off in terms of career, yet his mom still has numerous debts to be paid from the process of citizenship and the years she spent on her education so that she could provide for Daisuke.

Daisuke decided to participate in the games to relieve her debt, and hopefully make her proud.

And yes, the warring region mention is relevant since Daisuke ends up having a PTSD episode similar to Dae-Ho during the player uprising. Also, it's partially me projecting my SE Asian background and history onto one of my favorites, sue me I guess. Daisuke likes to boast that he's a brave kid with a mean swing and how he managed to escape a war so the games are light work.

So if you've made it this far, congrats! I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas if you have any! I definitely have some more, but for now, I just wanted to make a basic post to establish the roles and world around it. If you guys make any content based specifically on my version of the AU, PLEASE TAG ME, PLEASEEEEE!! Also...

Bonus // Atlas - #120

Because why not? There's no harm in me inserting my Mouthwashing OC and plus, they actually really fit #120's/Hyun-Ju's character.

Just like Hyun-Ju, Atlas is a trans person, although their assigned birth gender is private and they're specifically a trans-nonbinary individual. Besides needing the money for the rest of their operations, Atlas is also impoverished and hopes to use the funds to finish piloting school. In this AU and their official canon, Atlas is ex-military; they worked in special forces as a unit captain and used the money to afford their surgeries. However, after an incident that caused them to voluntarily step down from service, they became severely indebted and eventually homeless.

Atlas is aware of Anya's pregnancy and knows Jimmy and Curly well through word of mouth in the few years of piloting school they attended, but they were hardly friends or acquainted with the two before the games. They're suspicious of Jimmy, however they're more suspicious of the Frontman and those in charge of the games. The games were a rumor in the special forces, and something about the Frontman seems familiar...

[collapsedsquid]

What I discovered was that he was one of 500 Indian laborers who had been convinced to pay $20,000 apiece to come to the US on legal guest worker visas to rebuild storm-damaged oil rigs, on false promises that they could become green cards – the American dream. The workers had raised that money by selling ancestral land and taking high-interest loans. Turns out they’d been dropped into an American nightmare. They arrived into a barbed wire labor camp, where they were forced to pay $1,000 a month to live 24 people to a room, in trailers placed on top of a dump. They were fed frozen rice and moldy bread. And there were never any green cards.

[...]

I still can’t get over the fact that you managed to sneak hundreds of Indian men past armed guards out of a gated labor camp in southern Mississippi. How did you do that?

Without giving away all the details, over the course of months, we orchestrated this escape that was almost out of a heist film. It started with me smuggling Indian ingredients into the camp for Rajan, who took over the cafeteria and cooked these extraordinary meals that nursed the men out of their blank hopelessness into an appetite for something better.

The escape involved a lot of whiskey, cigars, as bribes for the guards, and then an elaborate but fictitious Indian wedding that let us ferry 500 men out of the labor camp into a hotel room, right under the guards’ noses.

[...]

What we didn’t know at the time was that we were up against an Ice agent with corrupt ties to the company, with personal reasons to cover up the company’s scheme and deport the men. When that became clear, we all realized this was going to be a much longer fight – and it took the better part of four years.

[shunin-gumis]

Nagi initial SSR Story

A Taste of Happiness (Part 1)

Please note that this story has some spoilers on Nagi's background (about his luck) that's related to the L4mps main story!

I've used Momiji as MC's name, Chief is their title.

Any notes with a * are at the end of the post.

Location - Flower Laundry

Momiji: It's a good thing we had our meeting near 'Flower Laundry'. This coffee stain should come off easily.

Momiji: I should check on Yachiyo-kun tomorrow, he apologized so many times he almost made a dent in the ground grovelling.

Momiji: Good morning Nagi-ku-

Nagi: Welcome...

Momiji: Huh!?

Momiji: Wha- you're clearly not ok, how did this happen!?

Nagi: I was just working as usual.

Nagi: But earlier, one of the customers I made a flower arrangement for gave me some sweets as thanks, so I was about to take a break, but all of a sudden a hamster was running towards me.... ah, it's not just any hamster, it's probably Machiko, the one that the kindergarten nearby takes care of.

Nagi: Anyways, I tried my best to get out of Machiko's way, but then I noticed the trampoline that Akuta's group had left here...

Nagi: I ended up landing on it and bounced back all the way up through the ceiling for a homerun.

Momiji: I think I got the gist... I'll get you down now!

Nagi: Phew... you saved me, I owe you my life.

Sonia: You also saved our ceiling! Thank you very mush~

Momiji: Don't mention it, I got the coffee stain off cleanly thanks to you.

Nagi: I'm glad if I was able to help you in any way.

Nagi: I'm sorry that I can't keep you company any longer though, Chief.

Nagi: The deliveries and other work I was supposed to get done got delayed, so I should head out soon...

Momiji: If you don't mind, I could help you out? I drove the company van here.

Momiji: I'm all done with my work today, it should be ok as long as I just shoot Kafka a message.

Nagi: Are you sure?

Nagi: Ah, but there's been a warning for a weather bomb since morning. You might get dragged into a lot of trouble because of my unlucky predisposition*

Momiji: Haha, that's not a problem at all! In fact, it'll probably give me a lot of practice for future troubleshooting. Bring it on!

Nagi: ...Thank you. Then, I'll take you up on your kind offer.

Nagi: Can I ask you to help with the deliveries first-

A scary person: Hey you!! Pay back your debt already!!

Nagi: I'm terribly sorry, I'll pay back the interest first, how much is it?

Momiji: Wait! Don't take out your wallet!!

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

Momiji: ...The delivery ended safely. But Nagi-kun's trouble encounter rate really is impressive.

Momiji: First it was the loan shark who came to collect a debt at the wrong place-

Momoji: Everything's loaded. Where do we have to take them?

Nagi: The shopping mall is up first.

Nagi: There's several new stores opening soon, so they requested the deliveries. We can split up the load once we get there.

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

Construction worker: Sorry, there's construction underway here, please take a detour.

Momiji: We literally just passed through here earlier though!?

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

Momiji: Then we'd been forced to take a detour because of sudden construction work, and after that...

Momiji: A random elementary school student challenged us to a race, pizza crusts came flying at us out of nowhere, I barely had time to catch my breath with everything going on.

Momiji: It must be really difficult if he has to go through this every time a weather bomb happens....

Nagi: ..............

Nagi: .....Chief, we should go stock up on flowers next.

Nagi: The weather app shows that the atmospheric pressure has stabilized now, so nothing bad should happen like before, it should be smooth sailing from here. Let's go on my bike.

Nagi: Here's a helmet, wear it tight.

Sonia: Nagi-shan, Chief-shan, pleash be careful.

Sonia: I've packed the usual tools in your bag, pleash take it with you!

Nagi: Thank you, Sonia... We'll be back.

*Nagi has a predisposition that makes him attract misfortune whenever he's feels happy.

Nagi uses the weather app to track sudden changes in atmospheric pressure/weather bombs because that's his way of knowing he's going through a "luck rebound"

Part 2

[woman-of-many-fandoms]

Honestly though, it must be so weird to work with some people for a few years of your life and for years, decades, later people are shipping you with your co worker.

I'm obviously all for shipping fictional characters, but this is the actors job. Where they get a paycheck. They are literally being paid to act like found family.

Like imagine you worked in an office with some people for 3 years in 2004-2007 and in 2030 people are making clips of you and how in love you look while eating lunch with Carol or saying hi as you both arrived in the parking lot.

I've seen this in pretty much every fandom I've been in. Star Trek, good omens, X men, Marvel. I do not think RDJ has any emotional attachment to Chris Evens or that Shanter really cared about and enjoyed spending time with Nimoy. I'm positive for David Tennant, Good Omens is just his next job and Michael Sheen only likes it because it made him much more well known in the acting world and it'll be easier to get his next gig. Yes Pine and Quinto look like they are actual friends outside of the movies but that is an exception.

Anyway, just my thoughts since I just saw a post of some Trek actors in I'm assuming the late 80s or 90s and people were saying 'how could he not be bi saying stuff like this'. Money, the answer is always money.

edit: OK let me address some of what is in the comments. Do actors say they are friends, sure, and if you want to take that at face value then you are right, they are friends. I personally don't think it counts if you are being paid to do so. And before anyone says anything, no not directly. But they have a whole 'image' to uphold that their income is tied to.

I don't know much about the entertainment industry and don't know why people would want that life but it's .... well, different, is the nice way to say it. My sister's career is considered part of the entertainment industry though she is behind the scenes. (And, side note, even being behind the scenes I've still found photoshopped images someone made of her in her in sexy lingerie ... )

TBF we don't talk that often but I've heard some stories (apparently Bill Nye is more then a bit of a jerk behind closed doors) She's lived in Hollywood 12 years now and there is the face people put out in the public and who they truly are. Yes, we all have a self that we hide (I'm autistic so I know all about masking) but it seems that is pushed to extremes.

I've seen her act like many people's best friends (house parties and giving favors and gifts that I question) and promoting their good name in public then she'll tell me in private some horrible things that person has done to others and how it's just how it works. She house/cat sat for a guy (and sent me views from his balcony, my god it was nice) who I think a lot of people would recognize from TV but their relationship was built on respect for each other careers.

Sure, you can tell me not to base the examples off my sisters stories and, ok fair. But I'd also want to point out - the part of RDJ buying evens a car, I did some math. He has 300 million net worth according to google. I have a salary, not net worth (or a negative one cause of student loans I guess), but it is the equivalent of me buying my co worker a $32 gift assuming the car was 150k. I met a guy who performed in Vegas shows and told me how they've had dinner with (I honestly don't remember if it was Penn or Teller) at their house with their spouses. And private chats ... doesn't really tell me much.

I'm currently seeing a bunch of clips of the main actors for the new Wicked movie saying how each other changed each others lives and it just comes off as more acting to promote the movie to me.

And even with Pine and Quinto , I only gave that one a pass because they said knew each other and got along before being in Trek and even then, eh..

Again, just how I interpret things. I know friend can mean different things to different people and a lot of what I see I don't interpret as friend, I see it as networking. I would absolutely be 'friends' with someone if it helped me make and maintain my multi millions .

[girderednerve]

[aging userbase alert]

i got my W-2 today & i was like 'yaaay i will file my taxes while i am thinking of it, i now live in a direct file state! it will be easy & not involve handing my information over to some third-party company that might have terrible data handling practices,' because i like to file taxes as early as possible a) so i do not have time to misplace my W-2 and b) because my employer withheld tax for me, so i have functionally been giving the government a free loan & can i just say i do NOT like what uncle sam has been doing with that money, give it back you fucker!!! unfortunately you cannot direct file in my state if you contributed to an IRA (i know this sounds bougie but it is a very common & widely encouraged form of retirement savings, even if you've only got a little bit to sock away), or if you have cash tips, or if you worked as an independent contractor (so, like, gig work; the only 1099 it can handle is a 1099-INT, for interest on bank deposits).

& i hate that! i hate that a lot. the IRA thing is annoying for me but the part where it can't handle cash tips or independent contractor income is actually really bad in my opinion because this excludes a pretty big number of lower income american workers, who are more likely to be taken advantage of by tax preparation companies that will not protect their data & will often attempt to shunt them into confusing paid filing options. or they end up going with scummy irl tax preparers, who make a killing on low income people's tax returns! the IRS desperately wants everyone to e-file because it is much faster & more efficient & in many ways less error-prone, but the free file program has enriched tax preparation companies at the expense of american workers who were underserved & misled, and now direct file leaves out a bunch of basic stuff & excludes people who need it. if you want to e-file for free, supposing you cannot direct file (if you are reading my tumblr blog & need to file taxes in the united states i am sure you fall beneath the income threshold for the free file program), you must go to the IRS's page of free file partners, then shop around to find one that can handle your tax situation & hopefully doesn't have too terrible a track record with customer data. it's stupid & i'm mad about it! there should not be a united states & there absolutely should not be any government of human persons which comports itself with such ridiculous stupidity

[fincrif]

Can You Get a Personal Loan with No Income Proof?

A personal loan is a great way to manage financial needs like medical emergencies, home renovations, weddings, or debt consolidation. However, most banks and financial institutions require income proof—such as salary slips, bank statements, or Income Tax Returns (ITR)—to assess the borrower’s repayment capacity.

But what if you don’t have income proof? Can you still get a personal loan?

The good news is yes, you can still qualify for a personal loan even without income proof. While it may be more challenging, there are alternative ways to convince lenders of your ability to repay. In this guide, we’ll explore how you can get a personal loan without income proof, the best alternatives, and tips to increase your chances of approval.

🔗 Need a hassle-free personal loan? Explore options at FinCrif Personal Loan.

1. Why Do Lenders Require Income Proof?

Lenders use income proof to assess a borrower’s financial stability and ability to repay the loan. Income proof typically includes:

Salary slips (for salaried employees)

Bank statements (showing salary credits or business earnings)

Income Tax Returns (ITR) (for self-employed individuals)

Without income proof, lenders may consider you a high-risk borrower, leading to loan rejection or higher interest rates. However, there are several ways to still qualify for a personal loan.

2. How to Get a Personal Loan Without Income Proof

If you don’t have income proof, you can still secure a personal loan using these alternative methods:

Option 1: Apply for a Secured Loan

A secured loan requires you to pledge an asset (collateral) to the lender in exchange for the loan. Since this reduces the risk for the lender, they may approve your loan even without income proof.

Collateral Options for Secured Loans: ✅ Gold Loan: Borrow against your gold jewelry or coins. ✅ Loan Against Fixed Deposit (FD): Get a loan of up to 90% of your FD value. ✅ Loan Against Property (LAP): Use real estate as collateral. ✅ Securities-Based Loan: Pledge stocks, mutual funds, or insurance policies.

Secured loans offer lower interest rates and easier approval, making them a great alternative if you lack income proof.

Option 2: Show Alternative Sources of Income

Even if you don’t have traditional salary slips or ITR, you can still demonstrate income through other means:

✅ Freelance or Gig Income: Provide invoices, contracts, or bank statements showing regular payments from clients. ✅ Rental Income: If you own property and earn rental income, show lease agreements and rent receipts. ✅ Side Business or Part-Time Work: Submit cash flow statements or digital payment records. ✅ Pension or Retirement Funds: If you receive pension payments, they can serve as income proof.

Lenders may consider these alternative incomes if they are stable and sufficient to cover loan repayments.

Option 3: Apply with a Co-Applicant or Guarantor

If you don’t have income proof, applying with a co-applicant or guarantor can improve your chances of loan approval.

✔ Co-Applicant: A family member or spouse with a stable income can apply jointly for the loan. ✔ Guarantor: Someone with a strong financial profile guarantees to repay the loan if you default.

Having a co-applicant or guarantor reduces the lender’s risk, increasing your approval chances.

Option 4: Maintain a Strong Credit Score

Even without income proof, a high credit score (750 or above) can improve your chances of securing a personal loan. Lenders may approve your loan based on your creditworthiness and past repayment history.

How to Improve Your Credit Score: ✅ Pay credit card bills and EMIs on time. ✅ Keep your credit utilization below 30%. ✅ Avoid multiple loan applications in a short period. ✅ Check your credit report regularly and fix errors.

A strong credit score shows lenders that you are a responsible borrower, increasing the chances of loan approval.

Option 5: Opt for Instant or Pre-Approved Loans

Some banks and NBFCs offer pre-approved personal loans based on your credit history and banking relationship. If you have a good banking record with a lender, you might qualify for an instant loan without needing to submit income proof.

Check with your existing bank to see if you are eligible for a pre-approved loan based on your financial activity.

🔗 Want a pre-approved loan? Explore options at FinCrif Personal Loan.

3. Which Lenders Offer Personal Loans Without Income Proof?

Not all lenders require strict income documentation. Some banks, NBFCs, and digital lenders have relaxed policies for personal loans, especially for freelancers, self-employed individuals, and those with alternative income sources.

When choosing a lender: ✅ Look for lenders offering low-documentation loans. ✅ Compare interest rates and processing fees. ✅ Check if the lender accepts alternative income proofs.

Some digital lenders also use AI-based credit assessment, which considers spending habits, online transactions, and financial behavior instead of just income proof.

4. Things to Consider Before Applying for a Loan Without Income Proof

Before applying for a loan, keep these factors in mind to increase your approval chances and avoid loan rejection:

✔ Borrow Only What You Can Repay: Without income proof, lenders may charge higher interest rates. Borrow responsibly. ✔ Check Loan Terms Carefully: Read the interest rates, processing fees, and repayment conditions before applying. ✔ Avoid Multiple Applications: Applying for multiple loans at once can hurt your credit score. Choose a lender carefully and apply only when needed. ✔ Keep a Strong Financial Profile: Even if you lack income proof, maintaining consistent bank balances and timely bill payments improves your credibility.

5. Alternatives to Personal Loans Without Income Proof

If you struggle to get a personal loan, consider these alternative borrowing options:

✅ Gold Loan: Easy approval with minimal documentation. ✅ Credit Card Loan: Convert your credit card limit into an instant loan. ✅ Peer-to-Peer Lending: Borrow from private lenders on P2P platforms. ✅ Overdraft Facility: Use your bank’s overdraft option if you have an account with them.

These options can provide quick funds when traditional personal loans are not available.

Getting a personal loan without income proof is possible, but it requires careful planning. You can improve your approval chances by:

Opting for a secured loan (gold loan, FD-backed loan, or loan against property).

Showing alternative income sources (freelancing, rental income, or pension).

Applying with a co-applicant or guarantor with a stable financial background.

Maintaining a high credit score to prove financial responsibility.

If you need a hassle-free personal loan, explore options at FinCrif Personal Loan for customized loan solutions.

With the right strategy, even individuals without formal income proof can secure a reliable personal loan and manage their financial needs effectively.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Anarchy can differ from other anti-capitalist ideologies in being a lived practice. If anarchy is the end goal, then it must be the means as well. This often turns out looking like working as little as possible, living communally with friends, getting by using scams, and experimenting with social relationships. Unfortunately, these more interesting and liberating tendencies based in subverting daily life are receding as gentrification closes off possibilities for living cheap in the cities. What remains in the U.S. anarchist space is activism. Lacking this daily life component, anarchy slides back into leftism.

May 68, the Situationists, and the Sixties counterculture brought ideas into anti-capitalism concerned with the first-person practice of everyday life. Rather than find and organize a supposed revolutionary subject, these tendencies start from the assumption that anyone can benefit from both present-day subversion and a revolution against capitalism and the state. They encourage rejecting imposed social roles, including those of worker, consumer, citizen, spouse, and student.

Though perhaps not apparent back then, these tendencies have a material basis. After World War Two, the new petite-bourgeois and upwardly mobile union workers in the US began moving out of urban areas. In Europe, economic crises and other political developments left vacant office and housing structures in certain large cities. It was in these contexts that said autonomous anti-capitalism found space for practice.

At risk of oversimplification, anarchy in the United States since the 80’s has been an echo of the Autonomen tendency originating in Berlin. Besides Situationist ideas and histories of revolt throughout Europe, why did this milieu begin there? After WW2, the city was militarized and split along Cold War lines, prompting many Germans to leave. After a global recession in the mid-Seventies, Germany did not return to its pre-recession unemployment levels. (Trading Economics) In Berlin there were financial scandals and an informal capital strike by big landlords in response to rent control laws. They actually had incentive to abandon their buildings and get low-interest loans from the city to build expensive condominiums. These factors led to there being hundreds of unoccupied housing and office buildings. (Katsiaficas, 89) Material conditions were ripe for large-scale squatting and, subsequently, the potential to quit work and experiment with the revolution of everyday life.

The story is similar in other places where the Autonomen were strong. Squatting in Hamburg began during the 1980-1982 recession. In Amsterdam, despite a housing shortage, there was no dearth of habitable space. According to The Economist, “Property speculators, for their part, have left property deliberately unoccupied to avoid carrying out repairs or in hope of an upturn in the market.” (The Economist 3/28/81) Squatters there would also take over empty office buildings. (The Economist 5/3/80) Similar, anarchy in the United States was present in New York City’s Lower East Side during the 80’s and 90’s where there were vacant buildings and a large squatting milieu.

We are now in the era of gentrification. The petite-bourgeois and capital are invading cities and driving up rent prices. Thus, the inspiring lifestyle of rejecting work seems less reasonable. Though it’s possible that property values will stagnate in suburban or rural areas, there are limits to what this anti-political tendency can do outside cities. Population density makes for a higher probability of encounter. This is why artistic, literary, and political scenes exist in cities. Contrary to capitalist ideals of entrepreneurship and genius, intellectual and creative milieus thrive with close contact to like-minded people. So, these Situationist-inspired ideas require two things: hubs of people, and the ability to take both time and space. Postwar urbanity fit the bill.

Admittedly, anarchists and the Autonomen aren’t purely lifestylists. Activism and outward-facing social struggle have always played a role in these milieus. But now that practices related to everyday life are diminishing, activism is the only thing anarchy can live through. Hence anarchy in the United States becoming infected by Leftist mores and values. We’ve seen an increase in charity initiatives, as well as the impression that anarchy is only a thing we practice when and where moments of crisis or struggle occur. The day-to-day emphasis is gone. Unless you count time spent at meetings, Leftism doesn’t care about daily life.

Anarchist scenes have retreated in large cities, and we are relocating to college towns that are not yet as expensive to live in. People new to radical politics are often calling themselves “leftists” now. Could it be that, due to anarchy’s inability to produce visibly interesting and liberating lifestyles, anarchy doesn’t seem that different from communism or socialism? Is it now just another button to wear on the coat, an idea that no longer escapes the cave of opinion into the sun of daily life?

Identity has become prominent in anarchist and similar milieus recently. Because the potential for altering the routines of life are diminishing, the desire to grab hold of the reins of ones’ existence look elsewhere. This has led to an emphasis on political, gender, sexual, and racial identities. In contrast, the Autonomen collapsed identities into one. People who used to identify as communists, socialists, libertarians, anarchists, etc, just became Autonomen. The potential for transforming daily life made identity irrelevant.

This reduction of possibility also explains the recent replacement of the Situationists with Max Stirner as the primary theoretical reference point for post-left anarchy. Stirner is more apt for the isolated individual who can no longer go to a city and find a milieu, or just drop out. Stirner writes:

Given up as serf to a master, I think only of myself and my advantage; his blows strike me indeed, I am not free from them; but I endure them only for my benefit, perhaps in order to deceive him and make him secure by the semblance of patience, or, again, not to draw worse upon myself by contumacy. But, as I keep my eye on myself and my selfishness, I take by the forelock the first good opportunity to trample the slaveholder into the dust. (Stirner)

This reads as someone who is stuck in a bad situation, with no room to maneuver. Their mind is liberated, but their body isn’t. The situation is reversed in this quote from Situationist Raoul Vaneigem:

People who talk about revolution and class struggle without referring explicitly to everyday life, without understanding what is subversive about love and what is positive in the refusal of constraints, such people have a corpse in their mouth. (Vaneigem)

He writes about refusing constraints as if it’s just that easy, as if it’s the body that’s free, and the mind trapped.

This is not a call to abandon the Situationists or dropout culture. Far from it, this piece was written with two goals in mind:

To provide a materially-based theory of anarchy’s hollowing that complements my previous aesthetic analysis.

To give a clear idea of newer obstacles and limits to the subversion of daily life, in the hope that this will help us better fight against or maneuver around them.

Works Cited

Economist, The (London, England), “Swat the Squatters”, Amsterdam Correspondent. Saturday, March 28, 1981, Vol. 278, Issue 7178, p.46.

Economist, The (London, England), “Will to Rule”, Amsterdam Correspondent. Saturday, May 3, 1980, Vol. 275, Issue 7131, p.77.)

Katsiaficas, George. The Subversion of Politics: European Autonomous Social Movements and the Decolonization of Everyday Life. AK Press (California, USA), 2006. 9781904859536

Stirner, Max. The Ego and His Own. Benjamin Tucker (USA), 1907. Retrieved from: http://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/max-stirner-the-ego-and-his-own

Trading Economics – “Germany Unemployment Rate”, https://tradingeconomics.com/germany/unemployment-rate

Vaneigem, Raoul. Treatise on Etiquette for the Younger Generations. LBC Books (California, USA) 2012. 09946061017

[mantisgodsdomain]

Since we've got all three character chapters of The House Is Established posted, we can now talk about fun things like roach pronouns. Come, learn about the grammar toys for Roach we've been tinkering with.

There are, at current: 8* distinct pronouns in Roach. Three of these are the "original" pronouns, and five were later adapted during communication with social bugs in order to avoid paying deadly insults to the queen or her colony through either treating the queen as interchangeable with other colony members or referring to an entire gender of the colony as objects. The cordyceps of Snakemouth Den speak a dialect that uses the "object" pronouns far more heavily in personal speech, and adds another set of pronouns for specifically inanimate objects.

Roach, when used purely among other Roaches, has three gendered pronouns: Male, Female, and Object. These are used in all personal pronouns (i.e. "I" "me" and "myself" will be different depending on what gender the speaker is using for themself). Object is not generally used to refer to oneself in first person, but can also be used to refer to any non-roach you do not know the gender of, or people you do not respect.

Male and Female also have distinct "plural" variants, for when referring to oneself in first person while speaking for a group. This is similar in usage to the Royal We - it expresses some amount of authority on the speaker's part, and indicates that they are acting as the voice for a group, rather than only themself.

During initial diplomatic relations with the Ant Queen, the genders of Queen, Drone, and Worker. While Worker pronouns have both singular and plural variants, Queen and Drone are plural by default - it is assumed that the speaker is always speaking as the voice of the colony, as these were primarily used for diplomatic purposes, and thus would generally only be used by people actively engaging in diplomacy.

Roach pronouns would later merge into general diplomacy between kingdoms, which would stick around as loan words after the Roaches themselves declined. Two more would also come into formal use by present time. Queen-Alate pronouns refer to an alate that is not yet a queen, and have both singular and plural variants, as a queen-alate is not necessarily attached to a colony by default. King pronouns are plural by default and almost exclusively used by the current Termite King.

Roach pronouns in modern bugnish are considered excessively formal and almost exclusively used for kingdom diplomacy. As all major factions participating in diplomacy at the time of language exchange were social bugs except for Roaches, Male and Female pronouns fall into the category of "obscure enough that no one uses them anymore", as the only people using them were Roaches, and not the surviving Kingdoms. Object also technically falls into this category, but its dual meaning as an insult is somewhat retained, though it is extremely antiquated and would warrant a response similar to calling a real human person a "parasitaster" in the year 2024. Canon Leif, specifically, uses Drone (Plural) almost exclusively.

If this all seems very confusing: don't worry! We have a chart of what pronouns do or do not exist in these variants of roach for your viewing pleasure. Character pronouns are below the cut.

Vi: It/its. Object (Plural). Sometimes swaps to Inanimate Object (Plural) for a few months every decade or so. Will refer to self as Queen (Plural) exclusively when trying to piss people off. No one will call it by Queen (Plural) pronouns unless they are also trying to piss it off.

ZB-159: They/them. Worker (Plural). Occasionally Object (Plural) when referring to self when inactive or under maintenance but English doesn't gender its first-person pronouns in a way where we can get this across.

Leif: He/they/it. Varies between Drone (Plural), Object (Plural), Object (Singular), and Inanimate Object (Singular) based on current mental state. Occasionally will use Queen-Alate (Plural) when speaking as a figure of authority, but English still doesn't gender its first-person pronouns in a way where we can get this across.

Kjdrira: They/it. Either Object (Plural) or Queen (Plural). Situational.

ZB-162: It/its. Object (Plural), Object (Singular), or Inanimate Object (Plural). The conditions upon which ZB-162 will be referred to as any given pronoun roughly correspond to the conditions under which the hive network may be referred to as such. Most of the time, sentences that mention ZB-162 will also include the hive network either by mention or by implication. There is very little distance between ZB-162 and the system it maintains.

[ivory-lamps]

[SSR] Nagi - The Taste of Happiness (Part 1 / 2)

SSR Card: downpour light Proofreader: Shay

Momiji / Kaede: (I’m glad the afternoon meeting is at the Flower Laundry that’s nearby. It should be pretty easy to get this little coffee stain removed.)

(I have to help out Yachiyo-kun tomorrow. He lowered his head to the ground and apologised so many times I think he made a hole in it…)

*Momiji / Kaede walk into Flower Laundry*

Momiji / Kaede: Hey, Nagi-ku–

*Nagi is stuck on the ceiling, legs dangling*

Nagi: Welcome.

Momiji / Kaede: What the–!?

Hey, you’re definitely not fine, right!? What happened!?

Nagi: I’m just working.

I was thinking about taking a break since a customer brought some snacks as thanks, but out of nowhere, a hamster… I think it was Machiko from the nearby kindergarten. Probably.

I saw Machiko running towards me so I wanted to avoid her, but then I noticed the trampoline Akuta and the others had left here in the corner of my eye…

So I fell onto it to save myself, but the moment that happened, I ended up flying through the air as if someone had hit a home run.

Momiji / Kaede: O–Okay, I get the picture. I’ll help you out so hold on!

Nagi: …Phew. Thanks. You’re my lifesaver, Manager.

Sonia: You’re also the ceiling’s lifesaver. Thanks for fixing it!

Momiji / Kaede: No worries. Thanks for removing the coffee stain, too.

Nagi: Glad to be of help.

But I don’t think I can continue helping out at the office. Sorry, Manager.

I’m falling behind on deliveries. I need to reschedule right away…

Momiji / Kaede: Do you want some help…? I came in the company car.

My work’s all done for the day, so I’m sure it’ll be fine if I send Kafka a message.

Nagi: Are you sure?

Oh, but there’s a bomb cyclone happening today. There might be some trouble heading my way.

Momiji / Kaede: Ahaha, it’s totally fine! Besides, I could use the experience as troubleshooting practice, so it’ll be perfect.

Nagi: …Thank you. Then I’ll take you up on that offer.

I guess I’ll get you to help me with the deliveries first…

A scary-looking person: Hey, you! You better hurry up and pay me that debt you owe!

Nagi: My apologies. I’ll pay back the interest first. How much do I owe?

Momiji / Kaede: Wait, wait! Put your wallet away!

*Some time passes*

Momiji / Kaede: (...We finished the deliveries, but it’s amazing how much of a trouble magnet Nagi is.)

(I can’t believe a loan shark got the wrong address and started storming in…)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Flashback

Momiji / Kaede: I’m done loading it up. Where should I deliver them to?

Nagi: First, the shopping mall.

There are a few new stores opening, so they’re deliveries for those places. We’ll split up once we get there.

Construction worker: Sorry, we’re currently in the middle of construction work. Please take another road.

Momiji / Kaede: But I could pass through just fine earlier!

Momiji / Kaede: (Construction started out of the blue and we had to take a detour…)

(Then kids, who were passing by, challenged us to a cornering battle, and some tossed pizza dough flew at us. There was so much stuff happening we barely had any time to catch our breath.)

(This is going to be tough if stuff like this happens every time there’s a bomb cyclone…)

Nagi: …………

…Manager, we’ll go stock up on flowers next.

The app said the atmospheric pressure will be stabilised in the afternoon. There shouldn’t be any more trouble coming our way, so mobility will be important. Let’s head out on my motorcycle.

Here, your helmet. Put it on tight.

Sonia: Nagi-san, Manager-san, be careful on your way out.

I’ve packed the usual stuff for you! Take it with you, okay?

Nagi: Thanks, Sonia. …See you later.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Index ≡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext →

[thebusylilbee]

folks I am curious, if you have the time please answer !

I need to know something : do you guys who live outside of France also have exams to become official workers of the State or not ?

In France there's a public exam system, basically if you want to work in a public institution without one you're forced to do short term contracts for at least 6 years (generally the first one is for 1 year, next one for 2 years, next one for 3) and then after 6 years they can choose to not offer you a long term contract* at which point you have to find another job in another place even if you were excellent at what you were doing.

These exams are divided according to categories (administration, culture, etc) and ranks (A+, A, B, C). A+ is for the highest functions of big institutions, A is to become manager of a service, B is to be an expert working under a manager, C is to be a technician - the lowest grade. Obviously salaries depend on that rank, from A to C they all start at minimum wage or near it basically but the A increases much much faster than the C, which is really poorly paid.

The advantage of getting the exam is Job Security bc in the french system if you get your exam it gives you access to an unlimited-in-time working contract without the 6 years delay* and you become almost impossible to fire (and also you get access to advantages like better housing options, financial helps for moving, and lots of other stuff etc.). These types of contracts are also the only thing that can secure a big bank loan to buy property for exemple.

The main problem is that these exams tend to be insanely difficult, at least for rank A and above, with several 4 hours long written sessions and several oral sessions to go through just to validate one exam, and basically very few people get it compared to the amount of people who attempt it. Even the B category is pretty difficult if you did not get into the right master's programs or selective schools to prepare it. The C category is atteignable but as mentionned above it's not paid well and does not give access to very good jobs.

So...

*these parts were edited after I was provided with additional information

[kaladinsspear]

Diary entry featuring thoughts on burnout and burnout recovery. Feel free to read or give your thoughts if you want, but its probably not that interesting to most people. ^_^

I have been very frustrated with myself lately. I have always been a relatively disciplined and internally motivated person, but lately it feels like my willpower just doesn't exist. I have slept past my alarm and been late for work, gotten distracted by my phone and added hours to my work day, missed assignment deadlines and blew off assigned reading at school, let my room become a mess, missed doctor appointments, eaten a stupid amount of sugar, ect. Its honestly embarrassing, and I've been really angry with myself.

I just saw a post talking about how a freelance worker structures their day and enforces breaks for things like yoga, nutritious meals, and walking. They build vacation days into their schedule, and they do not work on weekends. The poster said that when they first started working freelance, the worked so much that they burnt out, and are only just now starting to regain a measure of the productivity that they lost.

Reading that post gave me an epiphany: I'm burnt the fuck out and it makes sense that I'm struggling to be productive. I have spent the last 4 years (at least) in a state of near panic trying to manage the amount of work I had to do. I was getting up at 5:30, going to bed at 10:30/11:00 and pushing pushing pushing every minuite inbetween. I got to sleep in until 9:00 on the weekends, and that was the extent my break.

I guess the post just made me realize that burnout requires recovery, and that recovery takes longer than a few weeks or even a few months. I might be in a much better place, but it it took me years to get here, it is going to take more than a few months to recover.

In light of this epiphany, I'm going to stop stressing about it so much. Its summer, which means that I have from sunrise until sunset to get my work done, and the pools are mostly clean. I'm going to try to get distracted as little as possible, but im not going to be mad at myself for struggling to stay on task. Extra long work days are irritating, but it wont effect my paycheck and it wont effect my reputation in the company. I'm not going to go back to school full time. I have to keep going because if I stop I have to start paying student loans, but I'm going to accept that it will take me an extra couple years to graduate and stick with 2 classes a semester instead of 4.

I'm not going to change what I'm doing all that much, but I'm going to show myself a little more forgivenes and grace and trust that I am a responsible and disciplined person, that that those parts of my personality will reassert themselves when I have recovered enough for them to do so. In the mean time, my job is to find support structures to keep my life together, and cultivate an environment which allows me to grow.