#What Is A Refund Agent

[treesah]

I’m starting the day on hold with Verizon for 53 minutes because my grandparents’ landline has been down since at least Monday (maybe longer; it was only discovered when I called them to get buzzed in to their building). Verizon techs were apparently out there twice, did not fix the issue, and instead charged my grandparents $102 for a FiOS installation, which my grandparents say did not happen and which I can tell did not happen because their account doesn’t show a start in FiOS service.

My grandparents, by the way, do not speak English and I specifically set up the appointments and notified the building’s Chinese-speaking social worker so she could be there for interpretation if needed. It appears Verizon showed up HOURS late to both appointments, after she’d already left for the day. If Verizon hoodwinked and bullied two nonagenarian non-English-speakers into signing up for something without fully explaining with an interpreter what they were signing up for I am going to scream.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAGE.

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: you have trouble sleeping when you unexpectedly have to share a bed with james on your holiday . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁3.5k

⟢ warnings/tags: one bed trope, bit of wolfstar, fluffy, nervous!reader

⟢ requested

⟢ masterlist

note: love me some out of touch with money sirius and james

"Oh! I see it now! Your booking is for this date!"

"Perfect." James lets out a sigh of relief.

"Next year." The desk agent adds after a rather cruel pause.

All eyes fall on James, the one you all left in charge of planning your getaway. A decision that feels idiotic now.

James looks like he is trying very hard to not meet at your piercing gazes, as if any of you might have summoned the power to turn him to stone.

"Is it?" James' voice is strained as he speaks, "Okay, my fault, my fault. Honest mistake. I'm sure this happens all the time, yeah?"

"Not really." The desk agent says, a hint of judgement in her tone.

James, with his lips pressed into a flat line and eyes squinted, is failing very hard at not looking peeved at her.

"We should've let Rem do the planning," Sirius says through a yawn, letting his head fall on Remus' shoulder. It was already very late when you arrived at the hotel, and all four of you just wanted to crash in a warm bed. Remus slung his arm around Sirius' shoulders, rubbing his arm as a comfort.

Meanwhile, you shift your footing as you move your heavy bag from one shoulder to the other, your impatience and fatigue clearly growing.

James paid Sirius’ comment no mind, his attention all on you as eyes flick your way when he notices your discomfort in his peripheral vision. Wordlessly, he takes your bag off your arm and slings it over his own.

"We can fix this, can't we?" James asks, "Can we move that booking to today?"

"We don't do that for bookings that didn't pay the insurance fee, and it says here that you didn't pay the insurance fee. That also means the trip is non-refundable as well."

"Okay!” James feels an eye twitch coming on, “Fine, what rooms aren't booked? We'll just book new rooms, no big deal," James' says, his own growing impatience evident in his tone. He pulls a credit card from his wallet and taps it restlessly on the stone counter.

You and Remus stand there wide eyed, about to protest, while Sirius begins to look for his own wallet. James waves Sirius off and reassures you and Remus with an "I've got it."

The desk agent ignores the slight commotion as she reads from her screen, "Well, you're in luck. We have two queen rooms left."

"Wait," you interject, "Queen rooms? Because one of them needs to be a double."

"Those are the last rooms available." She confirms.

"Well, is there a pull-out sofa in either of them? A regular sofa? Anything?" You ask, desperation growing as the agent shakes her head at all of your suggestions, "A cot we can roll into the room even?"

"We ran out," she says, tone laced with faux sympathy.

"Well, one bed is fine with us, obviously," Sirius smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. Yet again, he is ignored. Well, not by Remus, who squeezes his shoulder.

James faces you and puts a gentle hand on your arm, "Hey, it'll be fine. We'll figure it out when we get up there, yeah?"

You sigh, but digress with a simple nod.

As soon as James says "We'll take them" the agent is listing off the price for the rooms for the duration of your stay.

"Wait, wait, wait!" James tries to stop her.

You jaw goes slack, "What?"

"Sorry?" tumbles from Remus' lips at the same time.

Sirius is the only one who looks unbothered, his eyes flicking between you and Remus as he asks, "Is that supposed to be a lot?"

"That's wildly more expensive than what we paid originally,” you protest. "The old price is only worth one night of this new price!"

"Oh, I remember why we didn't let Moony do the booking," Sirius comments, and the reason for the price difference suddenly dawns on you.

James looks at you with a sheepish grin as the wheels turn in your head. James and Sirius clearly took the brunt of the expenses, letting you and Remus only pay your share for a single night, passing it off as the full price.

"James!" You ridicule.

"We wanted you guys to be able to stay somewhere nice for once!" He defends stridently.

"First of all, offensive. And second of all, there are nice hotels that don't cost over a thousand dollars a night!"

"It's endearing that you think that's a lot for two rooms."

"Once again, offensive!"

"So, will you be taking the rooms?" The agent interjects.

James doesn't break eye contact with you, his lips molding into a cheeky grin as he slides his credit card across the desk, "Yes, we will."

When you reach the room, the site of the single bed makes you huff indignantly, but you had to admit that the room was pretty nice. And just by looking at the bed you could tell it's comfortable.

"They could have totally fit a couch in here," you take notice of how spacious the room is. "Five hundred dollar rooms should come with couches. You're getting scammed, James."

James chuckles as he places both of your bags on the floor.

"We have a desk," he says as if it's helpful, "a TV, wardrobe..."

"None of which are particularly useful right now," you comment.

James shrugs, approaching the inviting bed. He starts picking up pillows and dropping them on the floor.

"What are you doing?" you ask, moving to stand next to him.

"Makin' a place to sleep," he answers.

"No! No way, you're not sleeping on the floor!" you protest.

"You made it pretty clear you wanted separate places to sleep," James says.

"Well yes, but you should have the bed. I feel bad enough as it is that you've paid for this whole thing twice, I couldn't live with myself if I let you sleep on the floor."

"And I'm too much of a gentleman to let a lady sleep on the floor," he says as he lowers himself to the ground, laying his head on the pillows, "I've always been partial to a firm bed anyway."

"James! No way!"

"Listen, the only way I'm sleeping in that bed is if we both are, otherwise-"

"Fine,” you say sharply.

"Wait, what?"

You put your hands on your hips, "I said fine! But keep those pillows on your side, you've tainted them with the floor."

James watches as you saunter off to the bathroom, retrieving your toothbrush and pajamas from your bag on your way. The whole time, he remained on the floor, too stunned to move.

Of course, when James heard there would only be one bed, he was secretly a little excited, which may or may not have to do with the little (not so little) crush he has on you. But when you expressed concern over the situation, he knew immediately that he'd be sleeping on the floor, and sharing a bed with you would have to remain a lovely little dream. When he suggested otherwise just now, it was just banter and a way to get you to agree to him sleeping on the floor. He didn't actually mean it. But then you said fine.

James' fingertips fiddle with the fibers of the carpet as he contemplates this, still lying on the floor. He replays the moment in his head, checking his memory for your tone. Did you sound annoyed? Uncomfortable? James really does not want to make you uncomfortable. Even the possibility that he has makes him want to punch himself.

You were suddenly standing over James again in a fresh set of pajamas, "Why are you still on the floor?"

"You meant it?" The words tumble from James' mouth as if they were one.

“Yes, James, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“But are you okay with it?” James clarified.

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t gonna be uncomfortable for you? You were really concerned about the prospect of sharing a bed. If this is gonna make you uncomfortable, well, I’d rather beg Sirius and Remus to let me sleep on the foot of their bed like a dog.”

You chuckle at the image of James curled up by Remus and Sirius’ feet.

“Yes, James. I’m okay with it. What would make me feel uncomfortable is you sleeping on the floor whilst I’m alone in a bed big enough for two. Honest.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Now would you please get up from the floor?”

James sticks his hands up like a child, wiggling his fingers at you. You roll your eyes, but the way your lips curl up at the corners reveal you’re not truly annoyed with him.

You grab hold of James’ hands and heave him up, stumbling back a bit once you’ve got him upright. James helps steady you before he goes off to get ready for bed.

Meanwhile, you begin to tuck under the covers.

Lying in a bed has never felt so unnatural. You try fluffing the pillows, lying on either side and your stomach before returning to your back, taking the covers off of one leg then putting them back on—nothing feels right.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t the bed that was the problem but rather your nerves. The reason you were originally so concerned about having to sleep in the same bed as James is your little (not so little) crush on the boy. Just thinking about it made your heart race and you were sure you wouldn’t survive the night. You couldn’t even believe it was really happening until James pads back into the room from the bathroom and begins to join you.

You watch as he picks the pillows up from the floor, brushes them off, and places them back on the bed. Your body stiffens when he climbs in after them.

James is getting under the covers when he freezes, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, James. If I start to not be okay with it I promise I’ll kick you out.” You were lying but apparently it was convincing enough for James to resume settling into the bed.

Before completely settling in, James reaches towards the switch for the lamp. He pauses as he asks, “Ready for lights out?”

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak in case your voice might be high pitched and riddled with nerves.

With your confirmation, James hits the switch and you’re engulfed in darkness.

Your eyes screw shut as you feel the bed creak and shift while James gets comfortable. When he stops, you feel the hairs stick up on the back of your neck.

You open your eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness before you strain them by attempting to look at James without moving your neck. You can just barely see the position he’s chosen.

“Are you-? Are you facing me?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you maybe not?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah sorry.”

You feel the bed creak again one final time as James settles down on his back.

Upon some reflection, James realizes it is probably weird to face the person you’re platonically sharing a bed with. He just couldn’t help it. In his fantasies, you’d both face each other and have hushed conversations that would keep you up late. You’d be laughing and giggling with each other through the night, scooting closer as you did, until you found yourselves drifting off in each other’s arms.

Instead, you both lay stiffly on your backs, as close to your respective edges of the bed as you could get. It’s not James’ ideal situation, but he’s giddy nonetheless, craning his neck to steal glances at you often until he falls asleep.

You assume James is a restless sleeper, not thinking anything else of the way his head keeps moving back and forth, making shuffling noises against his pillow.

When there hasn’t been any shuffling noises for a few minutes, you let out a breath you’d been holding back. You didn’t want to make any noise at all while James was still awake, as if that would make it seem like you weren’t there at all.

Now that James is asleep and can no longer perceive you, you let your stiff muscles relax into the mattress and take a deep breath. You try to close your eyes and drift off, but they frustratingly shoot open a few moments later. Sleep would not be possible so long as your heart keeps beating the way that it does.

You look at James through the corner of your eyes, noticing the way his chest rises and falls steadily. You try to match his breaths, convinced that if you breathe like a sleeping person you’ll be able to fall asleep to.

Unfortunately, it was useless. Nothing could soothe the knots in your stomach, nor dull the sensation of James’ presence burning like a steady flame at your side. You’ll have to just accept it—so long as the boy of your dreams is next to you, you won’t be getting much sleep.

By the third day of your trip, your exhaustion was painfully obvious.

On the first, you were yawning all day, but you were able to brush it off as no big deal.

The second day you fell asleep on the beach the moment your back hit the sandy towel. Sirius and Remus had to endure all of James' fussing over the fact that you could get sunburnt. When James was spraying aerosol sunscreen over you, both concerned that you hadn't reapplied yet and wanting to let you sleep, the wind blew the spray right into Sirius' face. He snatched the t-shirt you were using to cover your face from the sun at once, startling you awake with a shout that it was time to reapply.

Today, day three, is a pool day, and you were nearly drifting off again. This time, it was happening while you’re in the water, your head resting atop your folded arms that drape over the pool's edge.

James is watching you carefully from his spot on a pool chair, making sure you didn’t actually fall asleep in the water. His concern for your safety and need to rest clashing yet again.

Sirius and Remus join James in adjacent pool chairs with drinks from the hotel’s Tiki Bar, but James pays them no mind as they sit down.

“Alright, James?” Remus asks.

“Yeah,” James responds, not taking his eyes off you.

“You seem tense.” Remus points out, “You do know we’re on vacation, right?”

“I’m worried that if I look away she’ll fall asleep and drown.” James voices his concerns.

“Eh, but if you let her you'll get to give her mouth to mouth,” Sirius jokes, and he’s the only one who laughs at it. Though, Remus does give into an amused head shake.

“Why’s she been so tired anyway?” Remus asks.

“Dunno,” James replies, “I don’t think she sleeps much. Every morning I wake up she’s already up and out of the bed, ready for the day.”

“How is the single bed life treating you?” Sirius teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

James purses his lips, “It’s… not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Ooh and how’d you picture it?” Sirius asks suggestively, earning a slap on the arm from Remus.

“I may have been holding out hope for the morning we’d wake up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Or the night where we’d stay up talking and we’d scooch closer and closer until we couldn’t deny the tension between us anymore and we’d kiss and fireworks would go off outside our window.”

“Oh. Wow.” Remus’ comments when James concludes his wistful rambles, finding them to be... interesting.

“Quite the hopeless romantic, are you?” Sirius teases.

James sighs, frowning, “Wanna know what happens instead? We lay stiff as boards, as far apart as possible, staring at the ceiling in silence until I fall asleep. No late night chats and no surprise morning cuddles.”

What James doesn't know that you have woken up curled up against him, his arms comfortably at around your waist, holding you flush against his side. It happened after the first night, and you quickly but carefully peeled yourself out of the bed the minute you came to. The possibility of that happening again and James being the one to wake up first terrified you, making it that much harder for you to get sleep at night. When you did sleep, it was extremely lightly, and you often woke up constantly to make sure you hadn’t accidentally drifted over to his side of the bed.

Remus squints at James, finding his longing quite painful to watch. James should just talk to you, Remus thinks.

"She looks like she's really dozing off, now," Remus says to help him along.

James' spine straightens with alarm, "You think!?" he asks, standing at once to jog to your rescue.

When you hear James' feet pad against the ground, you look up, eliciting a sigh of relief from him.

"Hey," he said softly as he slows his approach, "you're scaring me, over here."

"Scaring you?"

James sits on the edge of the pool next to you, letting his legs dip into the water, "This just isn't the safest place for you to fall asleep."

"I'm not falling asleep," you protest, but a yawn betrays you.

James shakes his head, light chuckles falling from his lips. When he settles with a sigh, he says, "You're exhausted, love. Can I ask what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on," you say, your eyebrows twitching together in confusion.

"Then why aren't you sleeping at night?" James' lips tug down in the corners.

"I am sleeping," you insist softly.

"Not enough, clearly. What is it? I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I? Because you can still kick me to the curb."

"No, I'm not uncomfortable, James," you look away from him bashfully. You really wish James wouldn't pry about this, you had no excuse, besides your feelings for him, which is one you definitely couldn't use. You chew your lip as you attempt to think of another.

James raises an eyebrow at your behavior, "You're certainly acting uncomfortable. Did I do something wrong?" His tone is dejected, like he's sad that you don't feel at ease around him.

You feel bad instantly, not wanting to be the cause of his low spirits. Your head snaps to look at him, "No! It's not that!"

"Then what?" James shakes his head. He studies you, trying to determine what could possibly be wrong. His eyes bore into yours and you feel yourself instinctively shrinking away from him. Your fingers start to fiddle with the string bracelet that you're wearing, arms still resting on the edge of the pool, though you have stood up straighter now.

His features smooth over in realization as he notices your behavior isn't exactly coming from a place of discomfort, although, he was close.

"Oh. You're nervous around me, aren't you?"

"What!? Of course not," you say quickly, yet your head dips down and you won't meet his gaze once again.

James decides to test the theory. He pushes himself up with the heels of his palms and lowers himself into the pool next to you. He stands in the water, close enough for his chest to lightly brush against your arm.

His voice is low when he speaks, "Look at me."

You barely move your head, just enough to see him comfortable if you look through the corner of your eyes. James' hand settles under your chin to guide your head the rest of the way. His gaze feels scrutinizing, and James catches the way you chew on the inside of your cheek.

"You're absolutely nervous," he decides, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "Why?"

"It's like you're trying to make me uncomfortable. Do you want to sleep on the floor or something?"

"No, I just want to sleep with you," he blurts without thinking.

You veer back from him and his hands immediately fly up in surrender.

James, suddenly the more flustered one of the two of you, speaks frantically, "Not like–! I didn't mean it like that!"

"And how exactly did you mean it?" you ask, taken completely aback.

"I want to hold you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms," he rambles, "I- I want to be with you, god, I like you."

You're shocked into silence. James' eyes desperately dart across your features, looking for any kind of reaction or sign.

Once he starts looking a little hopeless the words are ripped from your throat, "I like you too. I want all of that too."

James puffs out a breath in disbelief. His lips begin to tug up into a mischievous grin, his hand finding solace on the bare skin of your lower back below the water.

"And if I said I want to kiss you?" he asks quietly.

You swallow your nerves, "I'd say I want that too."

James' free hand finds the back of your head in an instant, using the leverage to pull you into him as he laces his fingers through your hair.

Later that night, James is the one who doesn't get much sleep, too giddy over the fact that he finally gets to hold you.

[pricegouge]

In Your Web

part two - masterlist

nikolai x f!reader

cw: stalking, mention of alcohol, male masturbation MDNI

By all accounts, you need a return address to ship to Latvia.

Rather, you need a return address to ensure your package doesn't get opened by customs, where agents will laugh at best, or steal your panties at worst. Maybe even steal your DNA? To what end, anyway? No! Worse than that - what if they used their connections to trace the package back even without your address and -?

One is predictably unsympathetic. 

» Then send it with one.

It doesn't surprise you that he thinks you're that dumb. 

You toy with the idea of leaving a random address in the return spot and cringe when you imagine a surly Russian man accosting some random family four states over. It's a mental image you carry with you over the next week, playing it on repeat every time you get cut off in traffic, or you find a coworker has pissed on the toilet seat without cleaning it up. Once, you even catch yourself thinking of it when a particularly annoying regular dominates your feed during a regularly scheduled live performance.

But One is not your knight in shining fiber optic cable. Neither do you actually wish to inflict him on anyone.

So you send it without a return address, watch the shipping updates closely, and feel your stomach slowly boil when it sits for five business days at an importing station. Evidently, One watches it as well.

» You did not do as I asked.

He's uninterested in your offer to refund his money - half now, half later. All you can manage.

» If I wanted my money back I would simply cancel my subscription and request a chargeback from the service.

» I want what I purchased.

Talk of chargebacks makes you flighty. There are only two things you know about One, those being that he is very wealthy, and very rude. The bane of all customer service operators. You don't think it's likely the service would honor a reimbursement for a tip issued over a week ago, but it's not something you want to risk seeing as, unlike your plan to split his reimbursement, OnlyFans would reach into your bank account with the cold unfeeling hand of a multi-million dollar company and steal it back all at once, a prospect you simply can't afford at this time, as embarrassed as you are to admit. Long ago you'd made a promise to yourself that any and all large tips received from this side gig would go immediately toward paying off debts - student loans, ill advised credit cards you'd taken out while still living off said loans. It was a decision that had done you nothing but good up until this very moment, when his money was already spent and you were staring down the barrel of having to pay him back using your own funds.

Or, barring that, he could cancel his subscription and not only get a chargeback for the remainder of his pay period (probably the year, knowing him - you'd have to check) but you'd also stand to lose your best customer. One you're not entirely sure how you managed to land in the first place and one whose income you'd likely never manage to replace. Already, One's singlehandedly paid off an entire card for you, and until now he's showed no signs of stopping.

« i'll fix it

It's a bold promise to make when you have no recourse, but one you don't see your way out of making.

» No, I will.

—

For as much as the line had made you nervous at the time, One does not make any overt moves to follow up on it that you can see. Lapses into an uncharacteristic sort of radio silence for a time. He even skips the next few liveshows, something that strikes you as very unlike him. One does not seem the type of man to let a service he's already paid for go unused. The first night it's kind of nice, seeing as he has an annoying little habit of just paying the target price within the first ten minutes because he 'doesn't have time for this' (funny, how he always has enough time to request a private cam after) but then it's three shows later and you've barely raised anything because, apparently, all your other customers are used to sitting back and reaping the benefits of One's impatience. Something you'll have to address. He stays out of your DMs, too. Offers no tips in exchange for personal requests.

You'd be lying if you said it doesn't light a fire under your ass, gets you chatting with other creators searching for ideas on how you can fix the situation. People much smarter than you say to cut your losses and just refund him. Be done with it. But mostly it just leaves you with a large level of concern. You know these people aren't dumb, but you can't imagine the level of trust they've placed in some of their own favorite customers. Maybe it's because they're lucky enough to have attracted nice people, or at least people with enough social aptitude to know how to pretend to be nice. Something to be said for One, he's never once let you forget he's not the sort of man you should trust with your personal information.

Finally, inspiration strikes in the form of another stupid suggestion, one creator admitting they've put their work address in the return slot. They do not comment on whether or not they used their legal name, but given their stage name contains the word anal, you have to assume.

No desire to let One know where you work, or even the town you're from, you begin to think about other nameless faceless organizations you can use as a fall back instead, finally settling on a random Walmart two states over. You use your stage name and post it, sending One the new tracking number along with a free vid of you getting the replacement pair all messy in hopes that he returns immediately to his normal spending.

Of course, he doesn't so much as thank you. When another two pass with no contact, you begin to grow concerned. You triple check your account to make sure he hasn't unsubbed, but he's still right there at the top - even with no tips given in over a week.

He's disappeared for a few days in the past, but this is different. You think. Or maybe it's not. You wouldn't know seeing as you don't know him. Seeing as he's never given an excuse for his absences. Not that you'd ever asked… It's normal to be worried for someone you talk with nearly every day, right? You don't know him, sure, but you'd be a bit worried if your favorite barista from the shop you frequent just up and left one day. And your income doesn't even depend on her.

Perhaps that's why you break character when he finally resurfaces, the joy on your face when you see his handle pop into chat the next night genuine. Your giddiness is infectious, even. At least one other regular bothering to welcome him back when you stop your stream dead just to say hi. Foam falls around you, slips over your bare skin down to the tarp laid over the floor where already a good foot of it has accumulated like a blanket of snow. It was an idea you'd been quite proud of, always a fan of a simple dance party. The foam machine was a small expense given the high engagement you've received so far, your subscribers happy enough to watch you shake your ass while covered in soap bubbles and glow sticks. The machine had already paid for itself, but now that One was back, you couldn't help the building hope that you'd even meet your goal for the night, which could make for a pleasant weekend full of meeting friends for drinks.

"Glad to see you're alive. Was getting a little worried about you," you grin, settling back into your roll easily. You pinch your tits between your arms as you mime snapping on a pair of gloves. "Got thinking maybe it was time for a visit from your favorite nurse."

But One is not feeling very playful tonight, if he ever is.

» Check your phone.

You huff and kick some foam at the camera obnoxiously, pleased when it falls short and hits the TV it's mounted on top of instead. You don't need to kill the mood even further by stopping to clean your lens. You eye it now, pretend you're staring up at him defiantly when you refuse, tell him you're in the middle of something with one hand snaking down your belly. On the TV below, large enough you can read even from the middle of the floor, you watch the feed as they would see it: yourself on the left while the chat bubbles in excitement on the right, egging you on. You nod at them, a silent promise, check to make sure your position looks good and that you've got a smattering of foam on you, at least enough to keep some mystery for them to unravel as the show continues -

» Now.

Irritation doesn't sell well, but sometimes you can package it as chastisement. "Play nice," you caution, voice whistling through clenched teeth. It's not One's thing specifically, but there are other regulars who you know will eat it up. "Gotta learn to share."

But One goes above and beyond simply not liking being nagged at.

He waits until your fingers are just barely tracing your thatch of curls, movement from your laptop screen catching your eye. You drop pretenses entirely when a new window opens, your private chat with One maximized so you cannot possibly miss it. Carving a path through the accumulated foam, you slink out of the field of view of the mounted camera, show long forgotten as you approach your laptop, mounting fear confirmed as you watch your mouse move across the screen of it's own accord to hit play on the video he'd evidently sent you while you were otherwise occupied.

You know what it will be based on the thumbnail, but it shocks you anyway. The panties he holds look like nothing more than candy floss in his thick fist, wrapped around a fat cock so tightly the lace is stretched. Distorted. It's weird, the things you notice when adrenaline bends time. The camera work isn't great, doesn't let you see his the root of his cock or even his belly. Its focus shifts a few times, undecided if it wants to settle on the display before it or the dark hardwood below. He wears a watch, a simple leather band nestled in a pelt of dark hair. His knuckles are dusted too, hiding the glint of a thick gold band on his pinky. Uncut, thick. He grunts the next time his foreskin pulls back enough to reveal his glistening head and your breath stutters with his when the lace catches, synthetic fibers relaxing back into a recognizable pattern as he eases them off, untangles it from his grasp to flatten against the table, flimsy gusset laughably small framed between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand.

His native tongue spills from him like his seed, molten and thick. Language, even if you can't understand it, is enough to tug at you and you yelp, your brief moment of shock fracturing enough to compel you into movement.

Nik likes the way the suds paint her, the rainbow foam a nice contrast with her skin. It slides down the valleys of her body naturally, highlighting recesses he'd previously been unaware of. Pesky self consciousness, always framing herself so carefully to hide away the bits she think he won't like. They won't like, he supposes.

He's never minded sharing. Nature of the beast, paying for it. But he doesn't see why he should have to suffer the same experience as these others, not when he gives so much more.

It was one of the first issues that had lead him to this little perversion, the impersonal uniformity. The self-editing. He pays to see her body, not the careful curation of videos and stills which she deems tasteful enough. So he settles in behind the wrong camera most nights, his field of view lower. Off center. Only watches the proper stream - the one he actually pays for - when she looks dead at the camera to talk to him, ring light glowing eerily in her irises.

Close enough, for now.

He's logged into a burner account while he works himself up, watching as she bounces around her room to an obnoxious beat. Her audio mixing is off tonight, the club music she plays just a hair too loud. He likes to watch from alternate accounts sometimes, likes to see how well she fights her dismay when these other viewers struggle to collectively pay her bills. She's more likely to grant him special requests the longer he waits to show up, he's learned. Off the menu orders, she calls them. Cute, but not what he's looking for tonight.

Her thong hangs from the corner of his screen. He hates to have already ruined it, but consoles himself with the knowledge she'd been sweet enough to send him another pair. They won't smell as good, he's sure. Another censure she'll have placed on herself. None of the sweat from having been worn all day. But she tried. Wanted to please him. Desperate thing.

It's laughable, thinking Latvian customs would be able to stop him from acquiring what's his, but it's not like she would know that. It's why he prefers small, no-name performers like her. So unsuspecting. Passably genuine, smile growing on her face when he switches to his regular account, the one she has memorized. It makes his cock twitch, excitement growing when she showers him in attention, singles him out in the middle of her show. Forgets to keep dancing, even. As she should. He wonders if he paid for her new toy, the noisy machine currently leaving soap scum on her walls. Wonders if she'll let him pay for it again or if she'll have him summarily blocked within minutes. It won't matter, of course, but he's excited to see how she'll unfold. Another off-menu order. One more bridge too far.

What she gets, taking so much of his money yet never offering more. He just wants to see sides of her no one else has.

It's hard to control himself when she starts to get catty, shows her teeth. He'd imagined stretching this moment out a bit more, thoroughly ruining the mood for all other viewers. But when she looks right at her camera and tells him to behave, his breath goes ragged, and he has to let go of his cock to show the little bitch better - taking over her laptop to bring up the video he'd sent, a low grumble building in his chest like a warning when she slinks closer, as if proximity will give her a better understanding.

Three monitors, one for every angle of his omniscience. On the right, the chat in her official feed grows annoyed as she walks out of frame, a few of them even accusing him of foul play. Hero-types. He's going to enjoy watching them try to comfort her if she doesn't delete her account entirely after tonight - after he mouses over the video displayed on his middle screen, the mirror of her own laptop. On his left, she looms closer, expression open and honest in a way he's not seen it yet. Painted in the blue light of her monitor, it contrasts garishly with the heavy makeup she'd applied for the show, all warm-toned to match her pink neons; catches on the tiny pockets of popped soap bubbles which fleck over her cheek. It's not a good look, one she'd likely touch up before even taking a selfie for her Instagram account, a post-show teaser meant to make potential viewers feel like they'd missed out. And now that he's seen it, he knows how much he's been missing out, fist working over his cock with renewed vigor as he imagines all the ways he wants to see her now, all the ways he can, even if -

He fights the cursor when she tries to take control, but she's clever enough to know some keyboard commands. His right monitor blinks back to her profile when she cuts the feed, the middle one slowly returning to her home screen as she closes out of each window. She pulls away quickly after, palms clamped over her jaw as she breathes through the panic, soft belly caving with each pant. Foam still spews from the machine, dye having run out. It catches in her hair, paints her skin milky. He has half a mind to open a word doc on her computer, tell her she should skip the dye next time, the white more suggestive.

Doesn't get a chance. Cums when she scrambles back to the desk, his left monitor dropping the feed when she smartens up and rips the battery out of her laptop.

Left languid and lazy, he tracks her movements across her socials from his bed, thumbing through his phone. Detached, he watches her accounts blink out one after the other. A small city going dark under the approach of his hele. She deletes some outright, settles for blocking him on others. Even issues an apology to her viewers from a site she doesn't know he even has an account on. It's vague, boring. Doesn't mention him. He gets an email around midnight, her time, telling him to expect a refund for the remaining term of his payment, but is pleased to find her account still in place when he checks from a burner. The save of her live show is taken down shortly after, but he's not worried. Had it saved locally.

Can't rely on strangers from the Internet to behave, after all

[spicerackofblorbos]

Lost and Found in Another World | Leon Kennedy x VoiceActress!fem!reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon has never had someone he's never met affect him so much as you have. This unknown person with insane talent and the sweetest voice he's ever heard. When he meets you at a con, he is no longer that somewhat self-assured field agent. He's reduced to a starstruck mess.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world (sorta), alcohol mention, fem!Reader, sibling-like relationship with Claire Redfield, set up for a possible second part

☾ a/n ➼ Don't look too hard into the timeline of when and where this takes place. I imagined this was Leon between 21 and 28, considering the aftermath of Infinite Darkness. But you can place him whenever! Don't come at me for canon inconsistencies, I'm here to self-indulge idk.

☾ wc ➼ ~2.3k

Leon Kennedy was never one for anime. To be honest, he was never one for any television shows at all. He was either too tired from work or too distracted inside his mind to even think about sitting down and focusing on something.

The only exception was when Claire would come by his apartment, unannounced, with pizza and her show of the week, usually a show she’s started but she needs someone talk about it with, so she was willing to start it over. That someone was Leon.

This week was a new anime she had heard great things about. It was a short season, so they knocked it out in one sitting – one large pizza and a six pack of beer later. Claire was rattling on and on about the main character and her love interest in the show. They were both transported into another fantasy world, an isekai Claire had called it, and had fallen in love due to their shitty circumstances and their dependency on each other in this new, fucked up world.

Leon didn’t hate it, far from it.

In fact, he quite enjoyed it. From the fantastical monsters to the smooth plotline and storytelling, he was locked on the entire time. But what really enchanted him the most was the voice that belonged to the main character, this bubbly almost borderline naïve elf woman. He had never heard anything like her.

Claire would argue that it’s not her real voice, she’s just a very talented voice actress. Leon didn’t care, it was music to his ears and there were moments where he missed important dialogues and plot points because he was so entranced by that pretty voice.

“A convention? Really.” Leon sighs in exasperation at his red-jacket clad friend who sits across from him at the coffee shop they agreed to meet up at for lunch.

“Yeah! My friend bailed on me and the stupid people don’t refund tickets.” Claire gives a bright smile that reaches into her blue eyes, then slowly her face turns into that one pleading emoji she loved to use on Leon when she needed something. “Please Leon? It’s just a few days.”

“I don’t know, Claire… I just got back from a mission, and I could really use those few days to just sleep.” He rolls his shoulders back as he says that, grunting softly at the warm pain that flares up in his muscles from getting his ass kicked multiple times.

“I’ll pay for your food?”

“I can pay for my own food. “

“You don’t even have to dress up!”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Claire pauses, propping her chin up on a palm as she stares hard at him. His blue eyes shift to the side, focusing on the cars slowly driving past the small café as he cards his calloused fingers through his hair. Across the street sits a park, full of kids playing on the playground with their parents chatting on the benches, vigilantly keeping an eye.

“Some of the voice actors for ‘Lost and Found in Another World’ will be there.” Claire murmurs into her coffee cup before taking a sip.

That gets Leon’s attention, his gaze snapping back to Claire’s smug face. He mentally scolds himself at how fast he reacted to that, knowing Claire did that on purpose.

There’s another pause.

“Which ones?” he asks gruffly, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossing his chest.

“Guess you’ll have to come and find out yourself.”

.

Leon had never been to a fan convention before, and he can see why he hadn’t before. It was crowded, loud, and stuffy to the point that he was tempted to pull his shirt off. It wouldn’t be the oddest outfit voice in the convention center, anyway.

It had been a few hours of bobbing through aisles of small businesses selling their wares until Leon had to put a hand on Claire’s shoulder just to ask to stop for a drink. His friend had an armful of trinkets and soft plushies that she was currently trying to organize inside her large bag that she brought while Leon leans against the wall, sipping on a very expensive bottle of water.

“I think I scoured every stall available.” She mutters, huffing in triumph once her items finally fit together without exploding out. “You ready to visit Celebrity Row?” Claire wiggles her eyebrows up at him before taking off in the direction of their destination without waiting for a response.

Leon just grumbles and follows as his eyes roam around the crowded space, unable to keep himself from finding potential exits in case something happens. Old habits die hard.

Celebrity Row was just as packed as the vendor floor. Lines of people bleed into the middle of the walkways, all waiting for their chance to meet their favorite star. Leon won’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued, after all, there were some big-name celebrities all here to talk about their newest movies as well as the ones they had previously starred in.

None of them held a candle over who Leon was really hoping to meet, though.

You.

You were a hot commodity apparently; so many people were here waiting for you to show up at your booth. Claire says you are well known for many of your roles in anime and videogames, a sought-out voice actress in not only the small screens but also from your many adoring fans. Did you capture them by your sweet and melodic voice as well?

Leon couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as he waited in line, being so new to all of this. Claire was in his ear, prattling about this new show that she wanted to try out next week if he was available, but at that point he had zoned out from the conversation and zoned in on you.

You were sitting behind a white table stacked with things he couldn’t see sitting out in front of you. Your name in big letters hovering above you on a banner with pictures of your various roles surrounding it, as if praising the one who had given them life.

Goddamn, your smile. Those eyes. The way your hair accentuates your beautiful face. He could swear he can hear your voice from all the way over here, though impossible since it’s drowned out by the chaos in the con.

Everything about you was nothing he had expected and everything he had hoped for.

“Leon? Earth to Leon!” Claire’s fingers snap in front of his face.

“Sorry. What’s up?” he looks down at her, quirking an eyebrow.

“I was asking how do I look? I want to make sure she likes my cosplay.” Claire does a small spin, letting Leon look at everything.

She had insisted on putting together a last-minute cosplay for your character in ‘Lost and Found in Another World’, something she had called a closet cosplay. It seemed true to fashion, so he nodded, unsure of what feedback he could give at such late notice and lack of context.

“Looks fine to me. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Leon reassures, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns to face the front of the slow-moving line.

“Great. Also, I was really hoping we could…” Claire continues to ramble, excited for the panels she wanted to visit before the end of the night and the ones she was thinking about attending tomorrow. Leon’s eyes do not leave your face.

With every person that you greet, closing the distance between him and you, he feels his heart rate spiking gradually. Leon is a calm and collected person for the most part, especially when he’s out on the field. He’s built up such a stoic wall, a way to protect himself, to hide away who he was before and during the Raccoon City incident.

But you? Why was he so nervous?

“Leon! Go!” Claire pushes Leon forward, knocking him out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he’s throttled into the white table, barely catching himself from falling on top of it. When he looks up, holding himself up by his arms, he’s met with your slightly startled expression.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you ask, finally hearing that sweet voice of yours in person rattling him more than any bio-weapon could. You’ve stood up abruptly with your hands out, ready to support him if necessary.

“I-…” All he wanted was to apologize, but seeing your eyes up close, his words don’t come out the way he wants. “Falling for you already, huh.” He mutters instead, awkwardly smiling as he straightens up.

There’s a pause where Claire looks at Leon with bemusement, Leon’s face falling in horror at what he just said out loud, and your quivering lips as you try not to laugh out loud.

You fail.

Suddenly you burst into a fit of laughter, your eyes closing as you lean forward trying to catch your breath between laughs. Leon’s face blooms in heat, partly from his embarrassment. The other part from how irresistible your genuine laugh sounds like. With just a few words, he can tell the main character from that anime was close to as true to you. If he could hear that laugh and voice for the rest of his life, he could die happily.

“I-I’m sorry.” Leon says sheepishly, taking a few steps back as he rubs the back of his neck.

“No! Nothing to apologize for, I’m just glad you’re okay. You are okay, right?” you’ve settled back in your chair by now. To right the of you is what Leon assumes is your assistant, waiting impatiently for the next people so they can keep this line going efficiently. You, however, ignore their annoyed, passive-aggressive glances.

You wanted to spend as much time with your fans as possible instead of pushing them through as if they were packages on a conveyor belt. It’s understandable why you need to, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Nor do it. So you don’t.

“Fine! Yes, I’m fine. Um.” Leon steps away, letting Claire step in front of him so they can talk.

Your eyes leave his to meet Claire, holding your hands out to greet her. There is some back and forth between them - Claire asking about your favorite aspects of being a voice actress, you asking how her day at the con has been. Claire does a twirl for you, showing off the cosplay she carefully put together in such a short time. Your laugh is infectious just as your smile is genuine.

A few moments later, Claire had asked for a photo with you, to which Leon was handed her phone and instructed where to stand and how to do it – as if he hadn’t taken photos for Claire before. A handful of years worth of friendship will do that. And he had expected it anyway, considering how many times she had said how excited she was to talk to and take a selfie with you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to hold your hand out to him, offering him a sweet smile like a beckoning call.

“Would you like a photo as well?” you ask, your pretty face lit up like the sun. He’s unsure if that’s your permanent disposition or not, but he likes it. And he can resist it. With a gentle nudge from his friend, he takes a few steps forward.

He's hesitant to touch you because he’d assumed it’s against the arbitrary rules set by whoever created these conventions. But considering who you are as a person (unbeknownst to him), you aren’t, and easily you slip your arm behind him and hold him by the waist as you tuck yourself against his side. There’s a surprised grunt that escapes his lips from not only the unexpected contact but also the way you felt so perfectly next to him. Instinctively, his muscular arm wraps around your shoulder out of ease and comfort of the poses you were in.

The perfumes that emanate from you are intoxicating to him and at this point he even forgets why he was here, why he was being held by you. And he’s looks straight at you too, not at the phone clutched in Claire’s hands that is just ten feet away.

“Okay! 1. 2. 3!” Claire presses the camera button a few times, just in case.

All too soon, the contact ends, and you’re turning towards him with a grateful smile as your arms fall back to your side naturally.

“Thank you so much for meeting me today. And thank you for being a fan, it means so much to me.” You say, waving at them before stepping back behind your table, ready to greet new people. Claire practically drags Leon away, which is hard considering how much muscle mass he has.

“Dude, you are so smitten.” Claire jokes once they’re away from the crowd still surrounding your booth.

“Huh, what?” Leon’s eyes drift from where you sit, now focusing on Claire’s highly amused face.

“You’ve got it bad. Want me to ask for her number while we’re here?” she nudges him in the chest.

“Shut up.” Leon grumbles, rubbing his neck again as his face heats up even more. “Send me those photos though.” His voice comes out softer this time, his blue eyes looking away and focusing on the various cosplayers that pass by.

“Yes, sir!” Claire salutes then starts walking deeper into Celebrity Row to see who else they could meet.

Leon was never one for conventions, but if it meant he got to see you again, he’d commit. And maybe even dress up just to see how you’d react.

i'm so bad about plugging my taglist but if you see this and wanna see what other Leon bullshit I pull out of my brain noodles, go here and fill out my form! your email is never shared with me or anyone else.

Taglist: @lucysarah-c @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[facts-i-just-made-up]

whats the most powerful dessert in the world

In the summer of 1877, a man walked into Clarabelle's Chocolate Cake Shoppe in Boletaria, Michigan. He ordered a Rich Chocolate Cake, their specialty. What he got was said by all who had ordered the same to be a delightfully rich dessert, but he was not impressed. He asked to see Clarabelle and told her the cake wasn't at all rich to his palate. She apologized and not only refunded his cake, but promised to make him a much richer cake if he'd come again, money back guaranteed.

He came in the next day and took her up on the offer. She made him a special cake with twice the chocolate, but still, he found it underwhelming. True to her word, she refunded it and promised that if he'd give her one more chance, she'd give him a cake he couldn't possibly find bland. He accepted.

The next day, he came in for his cake. Clarabelle had made a new cake with ingredients known to include several pounds of concentrated cocoa, several blocks of pure chocolate fudge, at least two essential humors from the cocoa seed, and also one unknown substance, present in only a gram but said to have been delivered under armed guard by the Pinkerton Agency, which she ordered her staff out of the kitchen to fold into the batter.

The result was a strange cake that her waitstaff described as "barely-a-cake," held together by a minimum of flour and egg. It glowed brown and smelled most pungently of chocolate, a harsh sort of chocolate akin to sulfur in the burning sensation it caused in those near it.

The man sat down and ate a slice while Clarabelle and her entire staff watched, waiting to see what would happen. They found out, but few lived to tell. The man's head, according to the sole surviving waiter, melted quickly before exploding in a colossal chocolate burst that leveled the restaurant, killing Clarabelle, three Pinkerton Agents, four customers, two waiters, a passing ox, and left the entire region uninhabitable for 140 years. Nothing grows in the region to this day, but scientists have finally begun cataloging the state of the area and allowing critical personnel into the area with high-level biological protection.

The government naturally hid this from public knowledge for fear that Clarabelle's Last Cake could be duplicated by terrorists or food vloggers, but thanks to the freedom of information act, we now know the legacy of the cake if not its secret ingredients. The man who ordered the cake is still there. Nobody knows his name, but his body stays smouldering to this day, smelling strongly of delicious chocolate batter, and will still for a half-life of 400,000 years. Called "The Cadbury Bunny's Foot" by scientists, his remains are considered the most intense chocolate concentration in the solar system, perhaps the galaxy owing to the lack of genuine cocoa plants off the Earth.

It is still only half as terrible as those damn 90% Cacao Lindt bars.

[horreurscopes]

so after months of apartment hunting hell and many rejections from apartments i fell in love with that hurt more than any romantic breakup i have ever had, i moved into a new place about two months ago and i thought i would love it but there were many little things here and there that were obscured from me during the tour and it's not working out and it's making me so incredibly unhappy (unresponsive management, loud neighbors, and it's so filthy from the last tenants [bathtub has jets??? which i thought was sick until i found out they were full of biofilm because they have never been cleaned out and yes i have disgusting pictures] and it's really dark because it's north facing and has scaffolding around it and the broker just made stuff up about the scaffolding being about to be taken down but it seems its just not going to come off because it's cheaper for the owners to have the scaffolding there to comply with safety law than it is to actually fix whatevers wrong with the building) anyway. so now, a really cool gorgeous place that's significantly cheaper and SO sunny and much better that i immediately fell in love with went up on streeteasy, so i thought, hey, it will be super mega tough to pull off but i can probably transfer my lease (wherein you find someone to take over the contact and are free of it) and move again, but then the listing agent messaged me that the current tenants had decided to stay and i was bummed out because the same thing had happened to me months ago during the beginning of my search with another place i really liked, so i looked it up and hey, turns out last time it happened it was the same leasing agent. so what i think is happening is that because it's such a desirable place at such a low cost, the broker probably has too many people who want it and just brushed me off with a lie because they can just do whatever they want. so i pretend i didn't see the cancellation email and show up to the building anyway, and ring the apartment number, and im LET IN but when i go up the stairs and walk into the place turns out it was true and the tenant's friend IS taking the apartment and they're like oh we're so sorry the broker was supposed to cancel ): and I'm like oohhhh nooo...... oh well! because at least i got closure lol

but i shit you not, as im walking out the tenants yell at me through the window to come back in because they JUST heard from their friend that he backed out and actually, the apartment is back on the market, and im the only person who knows and has seen it. so i stay for a solid hour just talking to the tenants who let me know the #honest ins and outs of the place, and that the broker basically did nothing (what is new) because they took the pictures in the listing and the guy hadnt even stepped foot in the place.

anyway it's a great story, kismet meant to be etc, im imagining my entire life in that apartment, until i realize i can't move in because the broker's fee that *im* supposed to pay (on top of first month + security deposit, which i would've had to figure out/loan out anyway because i definitely don't have enough money to put those payments in before getting the security deposit and rent refund for the rest of the month back from the CURRENT place) is fifteen (15)(IX) FIFTEEN percent of the annual rent. fifteen percent of the annual rent. FIFtEEn PercEnt. Of The Annual Rent. For Doing Nothing. so long story short i briefly thought I'd try to fundraise like $7k for all of moving expenses but then i deflated like a depressurized blob fish..... the unstoppable force of panache grit and scrappiness alone will get you far but it's not enough against the immovable object that is nyc capitalism. hashtag american dream hashtag bootstraps

[w2soneshots]

Soft launch -Angry ginge

words: 1.1k+

warnings: light smut.

summary: you and Morgan announce your relationship, he asks you an important question and you celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Liked by kaci.jay and 104,690 others

y/username: soft launch?? @angryginge13

-comments-

angryginge13: hard launch??

dannyaarons: so cute man❤️

user20577940: omgggggg finally!!!!!

Me and Morgan have been together for just over 6 months. We decided to keep it a secret since we didn't want other people's opinions effecting our relationship while it was still early doors, but ended up putting it off for a lot longer than we anticipated. Last night after watching the KSI vs Tommy Fury fight, we decided to quietly announce it.

We met in a pub, he was hanging around with his friends playing pool, and I was with my best friend Lana. Nether of us drink so had something in common when our friends started to become increasingly more pissed.

Today I'm tagging along to one of his house viewings. He's been trying to find a home for a while now, with no luck. I knocked on his door and he opened it a few minutes later. "Hey babe." he said pulling me into the house and then into a kiss. I smiled into the kiss. He pulled away "What?" He questioned. "What was that for?" I asked with a smile still plastered on my face. "I've just missed you." He stated. "I saw you last week." I said. "A week too long." he said and I shook my head with a giggle.

We left the house around 10 minutes later. "You exited?" I asked while he drove. "Not really, I've been to so many of these so I don't have my hopes up". he said focusing on the road. "This could be the one!" I poked his side. "I hope so." he said quickly glancing at me. "We're here." he said as we pulled up. "Ooo this is nice!" I said excitedly. It's pretty big, with light brick and a dark roof, it has big windows and a nice sheltered driveway.

"And this is the master bedroom." the estate agent said showing us the final room. "This is lush!" I said looking around. "I'll leave you to discuss." the man said leaving the room. Morgan grabbed my arm "y/n?" "Yea?" I said slightly confused by his seriousness. "I know we've only been together for a few months but- I- hate it when you're gone even just for a day, we spend most nights together anyway and I know the lease on your house is running out I- I was just wondering, only if you want to, move in with me?" I was stunned, couldn't believe the words that just came out of his mouth. "I-" he cut me off "you really don't have to." he said. "No, I do." I said. "You do?" I nodded "of course I do you idiot!" he smiled and pulled me into a hug.

y/username just posted a new story!

Morgan officially bought that house soon after and we moved in the next month. We had minimal furniture for a little while but after many trips to Ikea we were finally getting somewhere. It's a three bedroom, 2 bathroom house with a lovely kitchen and living room along with a relatively large back garden. Our bedroom is almost finished as well as Morgan's gaming room where he streams and the third bedroom which he turned into my beauty room. I told him It was his house so he should do whatever he wants in it and not use a whole room just for me but one day I came home to him sat on the floor building an Ikea dressing table. Once he spotted me he stood up and said "non refundable." pointing to the pieces on the floor, I shook my head and laughed.

Today is valentines day so I sat at my dressing table getting ready for dinner. Morgan is currently filming a football video with Chris (md). He felt awful for not being here but booked a nice dinner to make up for it. Once I was fully ready I took some pictures for insta. I heard the front door open and hurried downstairs. But I stopped in my tracks when I saw Morgan standing there with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. "happy Valentine’s Day." he said. I stepped toward him and he handed the flowers to me. "They're beautiful, thank you!" I said with a big smile. I quickly placed them on the table and pulled him into a hug. "You look beautiful by the way." he said and I pulled out of the hug to give him a kiss. "Now, get ready we need to leave." I said.

Liked by dannyaarons and 360,855 others

y/username: happy valentines day💘

-comments-

angryginge13: ❤️❤️🔥

kaci.jay: so beautiful!

-> y/username: 🤍🤍

tenesseethresh: STUNNING🖤

user74108510: where's that dress from? x

-> y/username: oh polly xx

Morgan quickly had a shower and got dressed. We left and arrived at the restaurant just in time. We were seated and given menus. "Mmm, this all looks so good!" I said scanning the paper. "I think I'm gonna get the burger." he said, and I laughed "what?" He asked with a smirk. "so predictable."

We ordered and ate our food. By the time we left it was pitch black outside. We got into the car and Morgan drove us home. He kept his hand firmly on my thigh the entire way and we sat in a comfortable silence. Once we arrived home we went inside and I slipped my heels off. "thank fuck for that." I sighed. I looked up to see Morgan standing a few centimetres from my face. I looked into his eyes and his flickered down to my lips. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he pulled me into a kiss. It quickly became more and more passionate and soon we were in our bedroom. He pulled the zipper of my dress down so it fell to the floor. He broke the kiss for a second to look down at me, he gasped slightly "no panties, you dirty girl." he whispered before pulling me back into the kiss. I smirked into the kiss and pushed him towards the bed so he fell backwards onto it.

I crawled onto him and pulled off his shirt. Both of our breaths were heavy as I removed his pants and underwear in one swift motion. His hard cock hit his stomach and I resumed the kiss. His hands were harshly grabbing my ass as I grind down on him slowly. "y/n," he groaned. I slowly pushed myself onto his dick. He let out a loud groan and began bucking his hips up into me. "fuck, y/n."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Mild angst. Word count: ~3.1k

Chapter summary: The dinner date happens, and much more besides that.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She hasn’t been able to shake the memory of Aemond’s lips since they kissed on Wednesday evening. He’d dropped her home shortly afterwards, letting her know he’d pick her up at 7pm on Friday. Since then her tummy has fluttered every time he crosses her mind. If she closes her eyes she can almost taste the red wine and cigarettes on the plushness of his lips as they’d pressed eagerly against her own.

She knows it is foolish to wish for something more, to expect their arrangement to be something other than transactional, but that kiss had felt like he meant it, so she allows herself a tiny slither of hope to believe there is the possibility for a genuine connection to blossom between them.

Relieved when her last minute annual leave request for Friday is approved, she gets to work on making sure she looks her best. She intends to spend the day face masking, exfoliating and shaving until she is the very picture of perfection for her dinner date.

She’s startled by the buzzer to the flat, rushing to the door to answer the intercom. She lets the delivery driver up, assuming it’s something Mysaria has ordered, but balks when three parcels are handed to her, each of them with her name on.

She opens the first, it contains a black floor length Ralph Lauren off the shoulder gown with a thigh high slit. She holds it against herself in front of the mirror, she knows Aemond is generous to her, but she is still awestruck by the sheer extent of how much he is prepared to spoil her.

The second package is a pair of Jimmy Choo black suede open toe platform sandals with a stiletto heel and delicate ankle strap. She turns the shoes over in her hand, marveling at them, but also wondering how on earth she’ll ever manage to walk in them.

Her phone vibrates and she’s unable to keep the Cheshire cat-like grin from her face as she sees it’s from Aemond.

I saw the tracking information for my gifts update to state they had been delivered. Do you like them?

She fires off a quick response.

I love them :) Thank you xoxo

It’s only after she’s set her phone back down that she remembers there’s a third package, hidden among the wrappings of the first two she’d opened. Her eyes widen as she unwraps it. Agent Provocateur. Aemond has sent her lingerie.

Her palms grow sweaty as her heart races and her thoughts travel faster than her mind has the capacity to keep up with. This clearly meant he anticipated something happening between them this evening. What man sends a woman underwear if he doesn’t expect to see her in it? She isn’t experienced at all. What if he’s disappointed? What if he asked for a refund? Fuck, can sugar daddies even ask that of their sugar babies?

She is broken out of her mild panic when Mysaria comes home. “You in?” She calls out as she closes the front door behind her.

“In here.” She shouts back from her room.

She hears her flatmate toe off her shoes and then pad towards her. She leans against the doorframe, eyeing the packaging and clothes that lay scattered on the carpet and lets out a low whistle.

“Daddy been spoiling you? Lucky girl!” Mysaria says with a grin, which disappears when she sees her worried expression. “What’s the matter?”

She holds up the Agent Provocateur lingerie box by means of response and Mysaria nods in understanding.

“Nothing needs to happen until you feel ready. Why not just try it on and see how you feel?”

She sucks in a steadying breath, attempting to calm herself. There was no harm in trying it on.

It turns out to be a playsuit of sorts. An underwired, padded quarter cup bra with a basque constructed using satin covered black boning and satin straps to create a cage-like effect, complete with suspender straps with gold-toned sliders, with subtle, matching black satin bows. Inside the box is also a flimsy black lace thong and black silk stockings.

“The man’s definitely got taste.” Mysaria says, helping her into it.

They’ve had to boot up her laptop and look up the lingerie on the Agent Provocateur website in order to figure out the intricate series of straps and clasps, and she can’t help but notice the eye watering price that’s listed alongside it online. Fuck. There was no way Aemond wasn’t expecting to sleep with her.

She stands in front of her full-length mirror and runs her hands over her body, looking at the way her breasts sit within the cups of the bra and how the straps of the basque dip and flare with the natural curve of her waist and hips.

“It looks different on the model on the website.” She says nervously, chewing her lip. “What if Aemond doesn’t like it?”

Mysaria snorts derisively. “Girl, please, that model has been airbrushed to shit. You are real and you look hot as fuck. Daddy’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

“You really think so?” She asks, turning slightly, still studying herself in the mirror.

Mysaria gives her a playful swat on the backside. “Oh, I know so. Now let’s finish getting you ready.”

Two hours later, her hair and make-up have been perfected by her flatmate, and she stands wearing the dress and shoes that Aemond had gifted her - she has done several practice laps of the living room in the heels, to ensure she doesn’t fall over - the lingerie is snug to her body underneath.

Her nerves disappear the moment Aemond steps out of the car to greet her. His long silver-blonde hair is loose. She has never seen it all down at once, it falls thick and lustrous, well past his shoulders. Yet another well-tailored black suit hugs the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his long legs.

Any uncertainty as to how she ought to say hello dissipates as he cups her jaw and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“Hi.” He murmurs, keeping her close. “You look beautiful.”

“Hi yourself.” She whispers back. “You don’t look so bad either.”

He helps her into the passenger seat and the drive is spent in comfortable silence, though this time his hand lays a possessive hold on her knee whenever he’s not shifting gears. It leaves tingles across her skin in its wake and the gesture makes her feel lightheaded.

They pull up outside a restaurant called SOLA and Aemond takes her hand as he opens the car door for her.

“I took the liberty of choosing this place because it has a Michelin star. Never actually tried it myself.” He tells her as they walk in.

The dining room is small and intimate, elegantly decorated with an abundance of leafy green plants and sculptural lighting, but she is struck by the distinct lack of other diners.

“Why is no one else here?” She whispers to him as they’re ushered towards their table.

He smirks, watching her take in her surroundings with wide eyes once they are seated, his one seeing eye studies her closely. “I hired the place just for us for tonight. Wanted you all to myself.”

She giggles at that. Such a show off. She expects the food to be equally as flashy, a display of wealth for the sake of it. However, Aemond has ordered ahead of time for the both of them, with choices that suggest a more refined palate that goes beyond merely wanting to splash his cash.

They dine on Kindai bluefin tuna and oysters, paired with crisp white wine and the conversation flows as effortlessly as the wine.

She finds out that there isn’t much in the country from a business standpoint that the Targaryens and Hightowers don’t have a hand in. His father had worked to build an empire alongside his partners Otto and Daemon, prior to his death, and much of it has been left for his children to take care of now that he’s passed. Aemond oversees most of the legal aspects of the business, which is unsurprising to her considering how sharp his mind is.

He listens intently as she tells him more about her history degree and love of fine art. It saddens her when he tells her that originally he’d wanted to study history and philosophy, but had had to give that up to pursue a career in law when his family’s expectations were laid out to him.

It’s obvious there is an abundance of complexities and drama surrounding his family, but she knows better than to attempt to unpick all of that now, especially when the evening is going so well. 

Her skin feels heated every time he reaches across the table to gently stroke the back of her hand with his thumb. His eye contact is intense and with every moment that passes she finds any apprehension she had about sleeping with him simply fading away. She wants him.

“Dessert?” He asks, as the meal draws to a close.

She shakes her head with a slight smile. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”

“A pity.” He says, taking her hand and tugging her from her seat towards him. “I’m still absolutely ravenous.”

“For what- oh!” She gasps as he sits her on the edge of the table in front of him, lifting the skirt of her dress to the side by its thigh slit.

He hums in approval as his eye roves over the bottom half of her lingerie. She feels like there isn’t enough air in the room, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as his hands run up and down her legs. His thumbs stroke the creases where her thighs meet her pelvis as he drinks her in.

“W-what if one of the waiters sees?” She asks nervously, squirming against the heat that pools between her legs.

“Well, I suppose we’d better put on a good show for them.” He tells her with a raise of his eyebrow.

He hooks two fingers into the lace of her thong, pulling it to one side before he leans forward, groaning appreciatively as the flat of his tongue strokes gently through her folds.

A soft moan escapes her. No one has ever taken the time or care to do this to her before, she is unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this situation, but the thought leaves her mind entirely as Aemond begins to flick his tongue against her bud before suckling it harshly. She leans back on her elbows as he devours her with his lips and tongue, doing her best to stifle her noises by biting her lip, her chest heaving with the effort to stay quiet.

Her hands fly to his head, burying themselves in his hair as she bucks against his face when he speeds up his movements. Sounds of enjoyment rumble in his chest, sending shockwaves all the way through her body, causing a telltale tightness to rapidly build within her lower belly.

She finally falls apart, shuddering atop the table with a strangled cry when uses the tip of his tongue to draw tight circles against the most sensitive part of her. He pulls away, his face shining with her slick as he lifts her underwear back into place. He grins, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You okay?” He asks.

She nods, feeling dazed. “Yeah���just…I need a minute.”

Aemond chuckles, smoothing her dress back into place. “Understandable.”

“That was…wow.” Is all she’s able to say once she feels lucid enough.

Aemond stands, helping her from the table. “The bill was taken care of in advance. Let’s head back to my place. I want to be somewhere where you don’t have to stifle those pretty noises you make.”

His hand sits higher on her thigh on the drive back. A mixture of nervousness and excitement has her pulse thrumming from thoughts of what he’ll do to her, of what he’s just done to her. Nobody had ever gone down on her before, but now Aemond has, and on top of a fucking restaurant table of all places.

Aemond lives in the penthouse of a modernised high rise. It’s minimalist. All of the fittings and furnishings are a combination of matte black and shiny silver chrome. It’s clean almost to the point of feeling sterile. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend a lot of time here.

She grins when she sees the elderly doberman raise her head from her bed as they walk through to the living room.

“You must be Vhagar.” She coos softly, kneeling and offering a hand for her to sniff. She scratches gently around the dog’s ears, giggling at the way she narrows her eyes in satisfaction, lifting her salt and pepper snout towards the ceiling.

“She’s not normally fond of strangers.” Aemond muses, as he kneels beside her, ruffling Vhagar’s head.

“The trick is to approach from their level and offer your hand before you try to touch.” She tells him. “Most animals that don’t like people just haven’t been approached by the right ones.”

He stares at her for a few moments, a small smile upon his lips, before he finally breaks the silence.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks, standing and walking towards the kitchen.

“I’m good, thanks.” She follows him and they hover by the kitchen island, simply looking at each other before he surges forward to kiss her.

The force of it feels like it knocks all the air from her lungs, it’s hungry and possessive and she returns it with equal enthusiasm, whimpering as her tongue meets his. He dominates the movement, his hand cupping the back of her head as he backs her into the bedroom.

She topples back onto the bed at his soft but insistent shove. Black sheets of a no doubt ridiculously high thread count feel like buttery silk around her as Aemond kneels before her to tug off her dress.

“Fuck.” He mutters as she lays before him in the lingerie he’d bought for her. “Yeah, we’ll be leaving this on. And these.” He grips the heel of her shoe, as he places a kiss to the inside of her ankle, before letting it drop again.

She watches, transfixed as he sheds his own clothing. Aemond is a work of art. His chest and abs subtly toned, he is all lithe, corded muscle, and she clenches at the sight of him. He is already hard when he strips all the way off, and nerves nibble away at her as she looks at the sheer size of him. Long and thick, lightly veined with a blush pink tip, her mouth waters slightly at the sight, yet there is a part of her that worries it might hurt. She had only ever slept with her ex before, and despite her inexperience she knew enough to know he wasn’t well endowed, nothing compared to this.

Aemond crawls over the top of her, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbones that make her writhe beneath him, each one sending warm ripples of arousal through her.

His fingers dip between her legs, pushing past her thong to stroke at her. “Shit,” He hisses. “Still so wet for me, I don’t even have to prepare you.”

He takes a condom from the nightstand, tearing it open and rolling it over the length of him before repositioning himself between her legs.

They both suck in a sharp breath as he begins to push inside, the stretch of him against her sensitive walls is both too much and not enough all at the same time.

“So fucking tight.” He grits outs, his grip on her hips vice like as he bottoms out.

He lays like that, forehead rested against hers as they both adjust, only daring to move his hips once she relaxes.

His strokes are smooth, even and precise, tapping a spot inside of her with every thrust that has her clutching his shoulders and moaning his name.

“Feels so good.” She mewls desperately as his hips piston against her own.

“Oh she likes that.” He hisses, almost mockingly, placing one of her legs over his shoulder and pounding harder into her.

Her eyes roll back at the sensation, her hands grip frantically at Aemond’s biceps and then the bedsheets beside her as he rubs at her clit with his thumb in tandem with each of his thrusts.

“You gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He asks huskily. “I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck!” Is all she’s able to cry out in response as she feels herself tighten and spasm around him, her back arching off of the bed with the force of the pleasure that washes over her.

Her own release triggers Aemond’s and he snarls, holding her tight against his chest as he stills and spills into the condom.

He pulls out, depositing it into the wastebin and pulls her into his arms.

She feels utterly spent, boneless and dazed in the wake of what she’s just experienced, but Aemond isn’t prepared to let her doze off just yet.

He moves down the bed, unbuckling each of her shoes and removes them. He ushers her to the bathroom with a firm tap to her thigh. Once she’s finished and settled back into bed with a glass of water, he begins to slowly unclasp each of the straps of her body suit, softly rubbing and kissing each of the indentations made by the bones of it as it falls away from her body.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispers to her, stroking her hair as she drifts off to sleep.

She awakens the next morning, surprised at how refreshed she feels considering the events of the previous evening. She smiles to herself as she snuggles into the luxurious feeling plushness of the bed, thoughts of how good Aemond had made her feel playing on a loop in her mind. She is startled slightly when she rolls over to find his spot empty.

A note has been left on the bedside table.

Sorry, had to run. Have transferred you money for cab fare - A.

She sighs. She hadn’t expected breakfast in bed, but she can’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach at the fact he hadn’t bothered to stick around. Rummaging through her things that lay scattered on the floor, she retrieves her phone to look at the time when she sees the banking app notification.

£5,000 from A. Targaryen. Her heart twists painfully in her chest. That wasn’t cab fare, it was payment for last night.

Chapter two || Chapter four || Series masterlist

[askagamedev]

I've heard from friends that there's no reason for companies to shut down game/store servers because "it doesn't really cost them anything to keep it up", which feels wrong to me given how readily console makers are to close up features of older consoles that wouldn't conflict with newer ones. Is upkeep really that cheap?

Here's the thing - your friends are kind of right but also mostly wrong at the same time. In terms of technology and such, they are correct - running a server process in the cloud today is pretty cheap. We pay for how much CPU time our processes end up using and old games don't use up that much since there aren't that many players, so the cost of running the server itself is not that high.

However...

There are significantly more costs to running a game (especially a service game) than simply keeping the server running. That's where your friends are wrong.

Imagine, for example, a longtime player gets hacked and the hacker deletes her character and items. What is the player's recourse? Submit a ticket to customer service and get it resolved, right? Now we need to keep at least one customer service agent on the service to handle things like refunds, user mistakes, and so on. What if the server crashes? We'll need somebody to handle server maintenance. What if somebody discovers an exploit that severely harms the player experience? I guess we need a programmer who knows how to fix things. If there's any development to be done, there will also need to be production (to keep tasks prioritized and tracked) and QA (to validate fixes).

Remember, the vast majority of the costs of game development are the salaries and benefits paid out to the people working on and maintaining the game. Even a small skeleton crew costs hundreds of thousands of dollars per year in salary, benefits, taxes, equipment, rent, and so on. So... upkeep for the server processes really is that cheap. But keeping an entire game running is absolutely not that cheap. When the service can't afford to pay for its own upkeep - including the salaries of all of the people needed to keep the service running - then it gets shut down.

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Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[elaine19day]

To those who are confused as to where and how to buy OldXian's new artbook and merchandise, let me try to break it down for you.

A few days ago, OldXian announced the pre-sale of their new artbook which comes in two versions.

Variant A (regular) includes: - the new artbook - a poster - 2x postcards

Variant B (deluxe edition) includes: - the new artbook - a poster - 2x postcards - 4x buttons - a shishiki board - a sticker sheet - a 24 page booklet

Furthermore there's two new acrylic standees which can be purchased separately. A tianshan and a zhanyi version.

The cost of these items is as follows: Artbook (version A): 89 Yuan [roughly: 13 USD | 12 Euro | 10 GBP] Artbook (version B): 189 Yuan [roughly: 27 USD | 25 Euro 21 GBP] Acrylic Standee: 49 Yuan (each) [roughly: 7 USD | 7 Euro | 6 GBP]

All of these items are available for purchase in their taobao store now, under this link: https://item.taobao.com/item.htm?ft=t&id=786971367604

But if you have trouble creating a taobao account or your country isn't on the (very short) taobao shipping list [China, Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, Japan, USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand] then you have several other options to get your hands on these new items.

1. You could use aliexpress, koonbooks or any other China-based shopping app/website to buy these things from a 3rd party seller.

Now, keep in mind that these sellers obviously want to make a profit, so you will pay more than in the original taobao shop. However, on the plus side, they usually offer free shipping, which is nice considering that items like artbooks are heavy and shipping costs are based on weight, so if you pay over, some of that money also goes towards covering the shipping costs, which is not bad.

The risk of ordering with such a website is obviously that the independent seller could turn out to be a scammer and keep your money and not send you the goods. I have no idea about koonbook's policies, however in the case of aliexpress you are at least protected by such practices and should you not receive what you paid for, you will be refunded and get your money back.

Also keep in mind that the artbook and merch is still in production at this point! But Old Xian said the merch will be shipped out BEFORE May 20th. That's less than 4 weeks from now.

That being said - in some cases the merch will be cheaper on aliexpress after official ship-out, because there will be more people offering it, competing for best prices.

However there's obviously also a risk that the deluxe edition will sell out before that or that these re-sellers only ship the artbook itself with none of the extras.

Here's two links where you can have a look at potential resellers, but carefully think about all the pro's and con's I gave you before you consider to buy. https://www.aliexpress.com/item/1005006893284852.html https://koonbooks.com/products/old-xian-19-days-art-collection-3-chinese?variant=46493038674166 2.

The other option you have is using a taobao shopping agent. If you google that, you'll find dozens of websites offering their services. I myself have used parcelup, 42agent and superbuy before. Here's links to all of them: https://www.superbuy.com/ https://parcelup.com/ https://www.42agent.com/ What all of these agents have in common is that you need to create an account BEFORE you can start searching and shopping. All you need for that is a valid email address. I'll show how it works with superbuy screenshots here. After you signed up, you can copy the taobao-link I gave you earlier and paste it into the search-field.

What will come up is an embedded view of the taobao listing where you can pick which variant you want and then add it to your shopping cart.

Once you have added everything you want, click on the shopping cart and simply follow all further payment instructions.

They will also ask you if you want them to keep the original packaging or if you want them to remove anything unnecessary and repack everything in order to make it weigh less so shipping will be cheaper. It's up to you. You will then be asked to pay for items, domestic shipping (so mosspaca studios can ship the goods to your agent's warehouse) and in some cases a service fee. For example, superbuy has no service fee, however they stopped offering paypal as payment method recently so you'd need a credit card or other online methods to pay for your order and everything. Parcelup, however, still offers paypal, but they also charge service fees. (They are fairly low though, if you ask me.) So after you paid for your goods, they will order the items for you and then you'll have to wait about 4-5 weeks for them to arrive, because keep in mind - like I said earlier - everything is still in production and Old Xian aims to ship everything out before the 20th of May. There's hundreds, if not thousands of parcels arriving to all agent's warehouses every day, so it will take them a few days to sort through things after your order arrives. You need to be patient!! They will get back to you with pictures of your order, trust me. When this happens you need to look at the pics and if everything is okay, you can reply to them to proceed. You will then be presented with shipping quotes. Usually they offer more than one shipping method and some are tracked, others are untracked, some will take only a week or two until they arrive at your doorstep, others will take 6 weeks or up to two months. Choose wisely which method you want and consider what is in your budget. (Obviously fast shipping with tracking is more expensive than slow shipping without it, however personally I'd always recommend a tracked service.) Just to give you an estimate on what to expect when it comes to international shipping - parcels with that amount of merch and weight, will always cost me about 50 USD or more to ship from China to the UK, where I live. (So keep that in mind before you order. International shipping is very expensive!) But once you picked a shipping method, you pay for it (that's your 2nd payment) and once they have processed that - your goodies will be on the way to you within a few days. And that's it. Sit down, eat your food and wait patiently for it to arrive. If you have further questions, just plop them into the comments and I'll try to answer them.

[yurilifts]

So far my 🧬 list

Hölłïśțeř- only worked for peb it’s pretty hard for them to accept 🧬 do just either keep one item or return it in store later. (Dec 2024)

Going to do another one next week idk if I’ll say only one item came since it’s six items but I’ll see (Jan 2025)

Did not effing work I used diff acc but same address I think each address is a one and done type thing 😐 went to the store and lifted instead as retaliation LOL

Sħíèn-it worked only until last July 2024 and now it’s super hard to get a refund even if they don’t have proof of delivery so I wouldn’t try it. It failed like four different times so I ain’t trying it again. FAILLLLL

Śķímmý-did work but rn it’s SUPER hard to get a hold of customer service so gl and idk if their policy will change soon sooo. Did it for $300 dec 2024 idk if it works now since it’s not holiday season

Ścamôźań-they made me file a police report if I wanted a refund and it was an aged acc. I fought really hard not to do a police report but they wouldn’t budge so I ended up having to do one. So part fail bc now I have a police report on my address :( nov 2024 for $160

Sè4uh- Did dna on a very marinated acc and it worked! Did dna on a new acc and it did not work whatsoever even without proof of delivery. I think your acc needs to be marinated for it to work. Nov 2024 for $290

VŠ- 🧬 was successful! Did $193 and spoke to customer service after three days of delivery. I think the agent I got was new lol bc they had photo of delivery but they forgot to check or even tell me they had one lol

Ļulù- worked for under $200 for peb! I had to do peb since it was upš and they inves and I don’t need them coming to my house lol

In progress- z@ppos

I might update this list if I remember to! Please comment down below and talk about ur own experiences and what worked for you ;)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Will I be the assshole for kicking out a student because of his political opinions?

I give private language classes and all my students are adults. I try to stay away from politics in conversation lessons but, as we cover a lot of subjects, we sometimes end up debating some social topics. Never really had any issues with that until now.

The problem is, I have this one student (40m) who is extremely right wing. He takes any mention of equality as a personal attack on his belief system and according to him all teachers are left wing agents trying to brainwash society. 

Honestly, 80% of what he says is just kind of bizarre misinformation but sometimes he says some offensive stuff about minorities that really gives me the creeps. If I try to change the subject he throws a tantrum and says I’m “censoring his opinion” and if I make any counter argument he dismisses it and calls me a communist. I can’t bring myself to just sit there smiling and nodding while he goes on about how this or that group is prone to committing this or that criminal act. 

I’ve asked him to cut it out multiple times but he claims that he’s not prejudiced, that he just “knows the statistics” and that not letting him speak his mind is political persecution. Normally I wouldn't think twice about kicking out a student who was just straight up racist, misogynistic or transphobic but the thing is, he genuinely believes those things he says are just political opinions and not prejudice. For instance, he strongly defends racial profiling even though he’s multiracial and identifies as black. He honestly doesn't see it as racism.

I’m not really comfortable teaching him and have been thinking of just giving him a refund and telling him to go find another teacher. I think the only reason why he doesn’t leave my classes is because of his belief that ALL teachers are communists so getting someone else wouldn't make any difference. My coworkers think I shouldn't let his comments get to me and that kicking him out like that will be seen as unprofessional in our field. The classes are private so it’s really up to me.

So, WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[pinkluver93]

Words Left Unsaid

A continuation of my KehXReader fic "Is This Jealousy I'm Feeling?" Enjoy!

“Ovenist….you’re attracted to me in some way, aren’t you?” 

Ovenist….Ovenist…. 

“Ovenist, you okay?” 

You look up and Nasir, the special agent helping you with the case, is looking at you oddly. You nod. “Yeah, I just got lost in thought for a minute….” 

You had called him to talk about the new evidence you’d found at Keh’s shop. He had come as soon as he could, since it’s busy at the WPA and it’s like he’s the only one there most of the time. It’s been a week since you investigated Keh, and you’ve reviewed all your notes. Now you two are reviewing the stack of papers you found. 

“I think it’s some sort of….manifesto or something.” 

Nasir studies it for a few minutes, looking at the pages. He nods with certainty and gives a determined smile. “So this appears to be a mockup for a pizza chain Keh is starting.” 

You look at him confused. “A mockup?” 

Nasir smiles. “Yes, it seems that he’s planning to expand his pre-existing pizza parlor into a chain…but it’s not called ‘Ambrosia’ now, it’s called….” He looks at the top of the paper. “Keh-lifornia Pizza Kitchen. Hmm, sounds familiar….” 

You nod. “Yeah, I suppose. I wonder if that’s why he might’ve stolen the dough. Maybe he’s using the notoriety from getting the dough to start his chain?” 

Nasir smiles. “Intriguing perspective, and it could be true, given his past….but I would talk to him and see what he has to say about it, since it could be motivation. Let’s keep our focus on the other suspects as well.” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Do you have anything else to show me or tell me?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Cool, call me if you want to talk about a suspect or show me a piece of evidence.” With that, Nasir leaves, and you get lost in thought. Not just about the case, but Keh’s words still linger in your head. 

How am I supposed to continue investigating Keh if he’s caught on to the fact that I kinda like him? Ever since PizzaPalooza ended, I’ve had these butterflies in my stomach I can’t control, and I SWORE I wouldn’t say anything! Ugh, why did I have to let him know how I felt about Angelica deep down? And how he shouldn’t be with her? What do I- 

“Hello? Can I get an All-Dressed Pizza? Can I also get it well done?” 

You snap out of your thoughts once again to take your customer’s order and move on with your day as usual. 

At close, you print the daily sales receipt from your tablet. It was considerably low; you had only completed one ZaZoom order and had to do 2 refunds.  

You document the day’s sales on the Pizza City Portal, where every ovenist had to input sales to show whether they are making enough to stay in business or not. You start to think about some aspects of the case you hadn’t thought of before and you grab your notebook and your special pen. Your notebook sits by you but your pen is not in its usual spot.  

What the-where's my special pen?? 

You move everything around in your reach by your shop counter-receipt paper boxes, your store’s lost and found box (which hasn’t been emptied since you opened and is filled to the brim), and some of your personal belongings...but your pen is nowhere to be found. 

Soon enough, you have searched your entire restaurant, from the kitchen to the one-person bathroom, and you have no luck. Your heart sinks as you pack up your things, lock the store and walk to your car. As you open your car door, you hear footsteps behind you, and prepare for the worst... 

....but instead of a robber’s voice, it’s a gentle, familiar voice.. 

“Ovenist?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Ovenist?” 

You close your car door in shock and the first thing you see is a shadow..albeit a very tall shadow. Next you look at who the shadow belongs to..... 

“Dr. Keh? What are you doing here?” 

He reaches into his lab coat pocket and takes something out to show you.... 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, is that-? My pen!” 

You mentally cheer, studying the golden fountain pen with a certain name engraved in it. You reach out to grab it, but pull your hand back.... 

“Hmm...” 

Keh looks at you confused. “What’s the matter? You don’t want your pen? You only tore 3 quarters of your miniscule shop down looking for it...” 

You do a double-take. “Wait what?” 

“Incase you weren’t aware,” Keh starts. “Every business in this city, yours included, is not only under 24/7 constant surveillance, but it is also public record and uploaded to the WPA website nightly.” 

You stand there, stunned. “Wow....that’s crazy...” 

Keh snorts. “Yes, I’m not really rather fond of being constantly under scrutiny, but that’s the cost of having a business in this city, and...it does have benefits..” 

“Yeah...” You absentmindedly say. “Wait, you see benefits of this?” 

Keh smiles. “Yes, it was rather fun watching you destroy a good portion of your store only to spend your time to put it back the way it was again. It was better than watching TV, dare I say.” 

You cross your arms and frown. “Real funny. That pen was very special to me, okay? The fact that I lost it and the thought that some member of the Deep Dish Gang had stolen it from me really messed with me.” 

Keh was still holding the pen and nodded. “I wasn’t laughing at the fact that you lost something valuable and meaningful to you, Ovenist. I was merely laughing at you destroying your store for any reason whatsoever. I cherish my belongings as much as anyone.” 

You nod solemnly, taking the pen from his hands. For a moment, your fingers touch his fingertips, which have a strong but silky-soft texture. It felt like a smooth lotion had just been applied to them. You think you saw Keh slightly blush at the contact, which you would’ve never seen if not for the bright street light by your car. “Well thank you for keeping it safe for me. I really appreciate it.” 

While he tried to hide his blushing cheeks, he coughed. “Well uh...you’re quite welcome.” 

“Do I owe you anything in return?” 

Keh raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

You slightly smile. “Well it’s just....whenever you do or want to do something nice for me, you expect something in return, like with the artichokes. So I was just asking....” 

Keh looks at you for a minute, then nods. “I see. Well, you dropped it when you quickly left my shop so I knew it was yours. I studied it and knew it was very special to you.” 

You look up at him in confusion. “But....why didn’t you come by if you knew it was mine? You waited until now to come....”  

Keh put both of his hands in his pant pockets and looked down a bit, then looked at you in the eyes again. “Well, we’re not exactly on good terms, Ovenist, given our history overall. I feared you would think I stole it if I brought it to you. I was originally going to have someone send it to you anonymously....” 

“Anonymously? Well why didn’t you go through with it?” 

Keh put his hands on hips and studied you. “Because for once, I wanted you to think of me as...well...” 

You look him in his eyes. “What?” 

“I wanted you to think I was a good guy, okay? I wanted you to...well, think at least somewhat highly of me...” 

You blush a bit. “But....why me? Why not the other Ovenists?” 

Keh rolls his eyes. “I could care less what Cicero thinks, I REALLY don’t care what Alicante thinks....but you, Ovenist....I don’t know. For some reason, you’re different.” 

You start to fiddle your special pen in your fingers and shyly look up at him. “I’m....different?” 

“I can’t explain it, but....yes.” Keh says. “For once in my life, I’ve found a puzzle I was never able to solve, and that’s you, Ovenist.” 

Now is your turn to snort. “You could’ve fooled me! You’re always so mean to me....” 

Keh swallows and nods. “Yes, and....I deeply regret it. I’m sorry. I’ve been trained since I was a youth to be incredibly competitive and ruthless, and.....because of that, I-” 

You both hear a group of tourists approaching, walking down the street.  

You widen your eyes. “I think we better go our separate ways for now. I’m sure you don’t want anyone spreading rumors, right?” 

Keh nods. “Yes, I agree. Though I think the Pizzagram hashtags are already trending....” 

You both get in your cars and drive away before the tourists see you both together.... 

[greyias]

To close out this saga, they finally appeared when I started casting doubts about any actual human beings operating the live chat. When I said "hey, maybe don't charge people $100+ over a month before every indication on their account says they're going to be charged that's kind of sketchy" I got multiple loooooong paragraphs explaining how this is actually a good thing and not a breach of trust at all, because what if you lost your credit card? And needed to get a new one? Did you think of that dear customer? Really, by putting you through all of this and then having to run through a digital gauntlet designed to test your patience and sanity in order to actually get your money back, we're saving you from the evils of the internets where bad things could happen if your Norton subscription were to lapse for even five seconds----

I have been stuck in an infinite chat hell loop with Norton's non-existence customer service for the last fifteen minutes, and my slowly devolving boredom and simmering annoyance has me googling misremembered tumblrspeak phrases that the search results that are coming up would probably be concerning if anyone else saw them

[verycleverboy]

A spicy headline for an alarming state of affairs. Via the Intelligencer section of New York Magazine:

The world’s richest man may now have access to the confidential personal information of every taxpayer in the United States. According to a New York Times report, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent on Friday granted Elon Musk and his minions at the faux-agency DOGE full access to the Treasury’s massive federal payment system. As with the rest of Musk’s wide-reaching project within the U.S. government under Donald Trump, it’s not at all clear what he plans to do with this unprecedented access. Also on Friday, the top civil servant at the Treasury Department, David Lebryk, was apparently ousted after he refused to give Department of Government Efficiency officials access to the system — or rather, per the Times, he “was put on leave and then suddenly retired on Friday after the dispute, according to people familiar with his exit.” Lebryk had worked at Treasury for three decades, and had been the Trump-named acting Treasury secretary until Bessent was confirmed by the Senate on Monday.

(full article)

Slate Magazine's Mark Joseph Stern sees a lot of Elon's post-takeover Twitter playbook in what the "first buddy" has done so far under the new regime, and he's not the only one.

Even if you don't remember how broken Twitter became immediately after he seized control of the company and started unplugging servers with a pocket knife, you're probably more than a little nervous right now about the entire system being placed in the hands of an unelected private citizen with no federal oversight who was effectively handed a blank check and instructions to go fucking nuts. And if you are nervous, that's because Elon hovering around the government is already having drastic consequences far beyond who gets paid for what, as Stern points out:

He’s taking total control, moving fast and breaking everything, and just assuming somebody else can clean up the damage later. But the federal government is not a private company. It cannot be run or gutted like a private company without horrific consequences down the line. Let me give you a perfect example of why I think Musk’s approach is so dangerous. As everybody knows, there was a plane crash in D.C. on Wednesday. A helicopter collided with a passenger plane and almost 70 people died. When this collision occurred, the Federal Aviation Administration was leaderless. Why? Musk had Trump fire the former FAA leader as soon as he got into office, because the former leader had investigated and fined one of Musk’s companies, Starlink. This was a sheer vengeance firing. This was not about competence or even truly about political affiliation. Elon Musk was just mad at this guy for investigating his company and wanted him gone on Day 1. Because of that, the FAA was leaderless during the biggest aviation disaster in this country since 2001. The agency had to scramble to figure out how it was going to respond to this without anyone at the top. And by the way, the day after the crash, FAA employees—including air traffic controllers, who are already badly short-staffed—got an email encouraging them to resign and find work in the private sector. This is not a game. Federal workers are not just pawns you can move around the board and reassign and purge without massive collateral damage to the entire country and its citizens. The FAA is just one example of many.

(full transcript)

And now he has full access to the Treasury payment system. Just in time for tax season, too. Hope your plans for that refund are flexible, just in case.