#cash flow kings

[dostoyevsky-official]

this a view of someone who's ignored european developments since 2007, opting for a rosy, outdated view of european politics, i.e. the exact type of american committing the exact type of mistake i'm warning about.

to address this point by point: not only has inflation been a global issue, but the US has consistently enjoyed the lowest inflation of any developed economy. american CPI has remained below the british, polish, and eurozone average numbers. european economies have to deal with fallout from the russian invasion of ukraine that the us can ignore: notably, in energy prices, as the US became self-sufficient in energy (and never imported any from russia to begin with, something squeezing the german economy). america is also not hosting millions of ukrainian refugees.

when discussing european instutions—and "europe" in general—one has to be more specific. do you mean the overarching institutions of the EU, criticized for a democratic deficit that many have pinpointed as one source for euro-skepticism and the rise of the far right? the EU Council, widely ignored and headed by charles michel, an incompetent, blatant nepobaby appointment whom everyone grinds their teeth over? the EU parliament, recently filled with a fresh batch of far-right hooligans, which functions more or less as a rubber stamp for the commission? the EU commission itself, headed by VdL, the latest in a string of failed local politician commissioners (who remembers the alcoholic swindler juncker?) masquerading as technocrats? the ECB, which smothers the monetary (and through the maastricht criteria, the fiscal) policy of eurozone members, thereby fueling resentment, far-right movements, and economic disparity? and all of this held hostage by the veto of one orban or fico, —or the german supreme court, when it decides it's had enough with public investment. those institutions, which remain so opaque that even educated americans—and europeans—aren't entirely aware of their function?

or do we mean the institutions of individual countries, ranging from undemocratic autocracies like hungary to the fief of the jupiter king, who called elections in june, lost them, refused to nominate a prime minister from the winning coalition, didn't name any for over a month, and then appointed a rightwing politician from a party that scored dead last, sidestepping his own centrist party? the UK, where sir keir is handing out five years in jail time to climate protesters, raising tuition fees, relying on private investment companies, and through rachel reeves' plan to fix the alleged budget hole left by hunt before further investment, again enacting austerity? this is all front-page headline news from the last half year.

european countries indeed have cheaper healthcare costs, better pensions, and other public goods that the united states does not. when considering "quality of life," remember, however, that most european countries have unemployment rates considered astronomic in america, especially for under-35s:

to focus again and again on european social democracy is to ignore that it has been steadily eroded since the end of the cold war and especially since the great recession by neoliberal political forces that crush the left and open the door for the far right. in the most blatant example, beside's macron's legislative politricks, the IMF-ECB-EC troika cut off euro cash liquidity flow to greece when syriza was trying to undo austerity under varoufakis. the greek collapse consigned a generation to economic failure, killed seniors, and curtailed possibilities for the youth. this erosion happened even in the nordic model, long imagined by americans as nothing short of a utopia:

In part due to the scrapping of wealth and inheritance taxes and a lower corporate tax than both the U.S. and European averages, Sweden has one of the most unequal distributions of wealth in the world today: on a level with Bahrain and Oman, and worse than the United States. Perhaps most dispiriting for Sanders, Sweden also now hosts the highest proportion of billionaires per capita in the world. Many of the country’s trademark social services are now provided by private firms. Its private schools even benefit from the same level of state subsidy as public schools—a voucher system far more radical than anything in the United States and that Democratic politicians would be crucified for advocating. Both here and there, right-leaning commentators in 2020 decried Sanders’s portrait as little more than what Johan Norberg, Swedish author of The Capitalist Manifesto, has called a 1970s “pipedream.” On this, Swedish observers on the left gloomily agree: despite official rhetoric, the “Nordic welfare model” is now more nostalgic myth than reality. (x)

to problematize further, there's an unadressed first world perspective: who's getting the good quality of life, why are the main economies of the EU so wealthy, and how does the EU continue to enrich itself? there are certainly many living outdoors today, drowning in the mediterranean, or dying of exposure in białowieża. fortress europe is a crime against humanity—and it doesn't beat back the far right. it weakens civic and human rights, undermines legal oversight, and criminalizes humanitarian engagement, allowing an authoritarian creep.

you shouldn't understand the political and the historical as a snapshot in time, but as a moving train. this is the state of europe today. all of the above is necessarily a simplification and an abbreviation, but there's a trajectory you can begin to trace out: given all of the above, where do you think europe is headed?

[saintescuderia]

cross my heart (pt. 1)

in terms of positive thinking, shibuya gave us more sukuna content so here's this -

AKA - the story of how you were sent on a mission to kill none other than ryomen sukuna. things get a little more complicated when you end up saving his life. more than once.

unedited (i was too excited)

1 / bored idiots

And in the next line of stupid decisions the higher ups have made, they now decided they wanted to kill Ryomen Sukuna.

Which was fine. If they wanted to be stupid, that was between them and their stupidity. However, you liked to think that you were not stupid. Kill Sukuna? The Sukuna? Yeah, good luck. No amount of training would ever be worth matching that. You had once heard him set fire to an entire village by snapping his fingers because he was bored.

Bored.

Just like you currently were in this meeting that had been called for a discussion as to how they would carry out their next stupid decision to kill the very man they were supposedly calling King. Fucking idiots.

"It's gone too far! He has doubled his tax. And I've just had three women fall pregnant with child!" One man slapped his palm on the table. "Let's see the King of Curses try running a business!"

The image of Ryomen Sukuna counting stock and calculating cash flow made you want to laugh. Yes, you definitely could picture him hunched over a notebook going over the business accounts.

Then again, considering Kimo's line of work, you wondered about when forcing women into prostitution was considered a business?

"You're sneering again." You heard a whisper beside you and saw the familiar small face of your sister giggling at your side. "Your resting bitch face is raging."

"It's not resting. It's reacting to that fucking idiot." You said, nodding a short bald man who was waving a servant over for more drink. His name was Kami but you referred to mentally address him as such and now considered him Kimo.

As she poured his glass, Kimo unashamedly slapped her behind. She gasped but could do nothing. You felt your fingers curl around the blade at your side. If only Kimo's father was still alive then this idiot would not be considered a Head who makes actively makes you gag.

"You call everyone an idiot." You looked at you sister who spoke and was smiling up at you.

"Because, Eva, everyone acts idiotic." You said. She laughed quietly and shook her head. "By the way, you shouldn't be here." Eva's response was a frown before you shushed her out of the room.

Your kill tally was the only reason you were allowed in these meetings, standing quietly behind sensei as he acted as a Head for his sick uncle. You honestly wouldn't have taken as many jobs if it meant you now had to stand through these meetings. Then again, more jobs meant a better life for your little sister.

Eva's father had run off before she'd been born and when she had been born, your mother had died in childbirth. You then spent your entire life raising Eva - and trying to dissuade her guilt for feeling that she had murdered your mother.

Especially since, between the two of you, you were the real murderer.

"Why not the girl?"

At the mention of you, you finally stepped forward from your usual spot of brooding by the wall. At such a formal meeting with all the family Heads sat discussing such important matters, tradition was important. One dressed accordingly. One acted accordingly. One spoke accordingly.

So when you were called as the assassin to kill Ryomen Sukuna, you expressed your concerns in the appropriate manner.

"Excuse the fuck outta me?" You crossed your arms, feeling more offended by their sheer stupidity by the second. "And did you just refer to me as girl?"

There was a sigh. An older man with a tired smile looked at you. He said your name with a hint of plea in it. You looked at the man you considered your sensei. You called him Oribu for his love of olives and he only person in this room you wouldn't describe as idiotic. Looking at him you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Then Kimo, the idiot, spoke again.

"When I said girl, I was referring to the younger one." He said, a mouthful of food. "She is much prettier and could perhaps pass as a concubine."

In less than a split second, a few things happened.

The flower on Kimo's dress shirt was sliced cleanly in half. A blade was embedded in the table. Your hand was thrown out. And your Oribu was in stance, blade drawn.

It took a second for the room to process what had happened, that Oribu had deflected your blade - that you had actually drawn a sword at a Head. Kimo looked down at the flower petals that were falling slowly to the table, gravity slowly making its effects known. You slowly stood up from your throwing stance, the sheath at your side very clearly empty and the blade embedded in the table emblazoned with your own signature crest.

Kami finally found it in himself to speak. "Ya! You dare draw a blade at me!" The rage was almost comical. You snorted.

"Yes." You said as if that was the most obvious thing ever. However, your eyes darted over to Oribu-sensei who looked slightly displeased. Sure, he never liked these things - and knew of the lengths you'd go to protect your sister - but he was always about violence being the last option. Which you found quite ironic considering, well, everything.

There was a sound of a chair being pushed back against the ground. You turned to where another man - was his name Raijin? something about thunderstorms - stared down at you. "You will speak accordingly!"

"He literally asked me a question." You said, gesturing at Kimo. There were some displeased sounds from around all the table heads and you sighed. "I'm sorry, if you guys have a problem then how about you go kill the bad guys then. Do you think I care?"

"Heartless bitch." Someone commented.

"Well, at least I'm not worried about getting blood under my fingernails." You sassed back. To make things even funnier, Kami had been in the process of looking at his nails and immediately looked caught out. You snorted a very unladylike snort. "Yeah, thought so."

"Oribu has told me of Eva's training." Raijin spoke. "She is exactly the sort of woman Ryomen Sukuna likes his concubines to be."

You really wanted to know how he knew that. You opened your mouth but thankfully, Oribu bet you to it. "Her skills are promising but... unripe." He said. "Uncle is yet to send her on a mission anyway. It's unlikely she would succeed with her first mission being such a powerful creature."

"Her sister did." Raijin said, curling his lip. You couldn't help the look on your face - was he not aware that his supposed insult was actually a compliment?

Gag.

"Why not she kill Sukuna then?" Kimo chimed in.

Ah.

You understood Raijin's comment. He wanted this for you. Killing Ryomen Sukuna was a promised death wish - and he wanted nothing more for your head since you humiliated him by turning down a proposal. So fucking petty.

Kimo turned in his seat to look you up and down. "You can pass as a cleaner or something."

"And you can pass as a failed abortion."

There was some uproar at your sass - why they were still surprised was beyond you - until Raijin stood up and held his hands in the air. You stared at him with your own disgusted look. This crusty, dusty ass motherf--

"So, all in favour for Y/N to kill Ryomen Sukuna?"

And, of course, they put their hands up in agreement.

Idiots.

[thatdarkfanficstuff]

Flutter - Chapter One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mafia AU. Characters may act darker than you are used to. There will be adult content in later chapters. Steve is unhappily married at the start so there is cheating but not on Reader.

18+ Only.

Steve Rogers preferred to have meetings in the comfort of his home. On his own territory where there was no question who was in charge. But Stark’s boy had been causing issues at one of Steve’s clubs and he needed to make certain it wasn’t the beginning of a power play. Tony Stark was one of the few in the city that could cause real problems for Steve if he so chose.

So this meeting was taking place on “neutral” territory. An exclusive restaurant with private rooms and respect for its patrons’ privacy. If it was owned by one of Rogers’ shell companies, well, no one needed to know that.

The glow of the candle on the table flickered as Steve finished his meal and leaned back in his chair. His eyes scanned the faces of his companions as they too finished eating. Bucky Barnes sat to his right as always. His best friend since childhood and the only person he trusted without question. They had always been there for one another and Steve saw no reason that would ever change. Sam Wilson was on Steve’s left. He was a newer addition to the family but had proven himself more than reliable.

Across from him, Tony Stark lounged with an easy grace that belied the tension in the room. He sipped at his drink as his dark eyes studied Steve. It wasn’t often they found themselves at odds and neither man liked it. Stark much preferred drinks in Steve’s office than an awkward meal followed by thinly veiled threats. Bruce Banner sat to Tony’s left. He looked more like an accountant than an enforcer but he was one of the most feared men in the city. He was ruthless when it came to protecting Stark and his family. Clint Barton filled the last chair. As usual the man appeared completely at ease. Steve was fairly certain Barton would have a smile on his face and a quip on his tongue in the middle of a slaughter.

“Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Tony began, his voice smooth and strong like aged whiskey. “I have no intention of going against you. I’m not interested in being king. I just want to run my business as I always have. Let me tinker with my toys, let the cash flow and keep the streets just clean enough that the cops stay out of our hair.”

Steve’s gaze lingered on Tony, assessing the truth of his words. They’d operated in this city side-by-side for years. He didn’t see why it should stop now. He trusted Stark. But Peter, Peter was another matter entirely. Steve knew very little about him beyond the fact Tony had adopted him as a teenager. And he was smart, just like Stark. The boy was getting older, nothing said he couldn’t be getting power hungry as he aged.

Steve leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the table. “I like to think I can trust you, Tony. We’ve worked together for a long time. But you’re not the one causing issues. I need a guarantee that this is over. You can promise me anything you want but we both know you can’t control Peter.”

Tony pursed his lips but nodded in agreement. He could try to rein Peter in but there was no guarantee he’d be cooperative. “What do you need from me, Rogers? I don’t want a war but I’m not going to hand my empire over just because my kid stirred up trouble in one of your clubs.”

Bucky snorted a humorless laugh. “Stirred up some trouble? He put two of our men in the hospital. Nearly killed one of them.”

Steve held up a hand to cut off the rant. He rubbed a hand across his mouth and sighed. “I’m not going to pretend what he did was okay but it’s the fact that he claimed to be putting them in their place when he did it that is the real issue here. I can’t have him running around on a power trip, Tony. We both know what that sort of shit leads to.”

Tony rubbed at his forehead before raking his hand through his hair. “What can we do to get back to where we were? What would make you trust us again?”

“An engagement,” Steve said. The surprise of everyone in the room was obvious though they all tried to hide it. It was an unusual move but it would bring the Starks back under his control and might rid him of the irritation of his stepson at the same time. It would make Roman someone else’s problem.

“I’m flattered, but I’m already married,” Tony finally said.

Steve’s lips twitched. “Your daughter, my stepson Roman.” He leaned back and gave a lazy grin. “Everyone knows family is everything to the Starks. So we become family. Peter won’t want to embarrass his sister, he’ll behave and I won’t question your loyalties.”

Tony’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “An engagement.”

“Family’s important,” Bucky said. “Imagine what ours could do together.”

Tony nodded slowly as he considered his options.

“Pepper won’t like it,” Bruce muttered.

“Pepper will like us having peace with Rogers,” Tony corrected absently as his mind calculated all the possible outcomes, weighed the pros against the cons. Morgan was young yet. He could push the marriage off until she was twenty. Maybe Roman would get himself killed in the meantime. He had a tendency to piss people off. This could work.

“Alright,” Tony murmured. “I agree.”

Steve’s lips curled up ever so slightly in the mere shadow of a smile. “Then we have an understanding.” He leaned forward slightly, the movement minor but deliberate. He held out his hand waiting for Tony to take it, to seal this agreement in the old way. Now it was all contracts and paperwork, but this family started in a time when a man’s word was law and a handshake was as good as a signature.

When Tony didn’t immediately take it, Steve arched a brow and said his name. “Tony.” There was a question in his tone, wondering if his old friend meant to keep to his word or betray it already.

Tony hesitated a moment more as his dark eyes ran over Steve. He was either questioning whether he should actually enter the arrangement or if Pepper was going to kill him for doing so. Morgan was the princess of the family. Which was why she was the perfect inducement for Peter to behave.

Finally, they clasped hands and Tony gave the ghost of a smile. “You’ve got an agreement, Rogers. Guess this makes us family.”

Bucky huffed a humorless laugh. “Make sure to point that out to your son.”

Tony’s jaw tightened. “I’ll make it clear as crystal.”

Steve leaned back and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder with more force than necessary. “Tony doesn’t need a lecture, Buck. He knows what’s at stake.”

Their business concluded, they rose to their feet in unison. Chairs scraped across the floor as they headed for the door. They exited out the back and stepped out into the quiet of the night. With one last nod goodbye they separated to their own vehicles to head to their own parts of the city.

***

Steve stepped into his house with a sigh. His gaze immediately found his stepson Roman where he sprawled sideways in a chair, one foot on the floor and the other leg draped over the arm carelessly. He was playing some sort of videogame and ignored Steve’s presence completely.

“Roman.” The name was not a greeting but a summons. A call for attention which Roman ignored as usual. “We need to talk. Now.”

When he still didn’t respond, Steve crossed the room and pushed the power button on the console.

Roman’s head snapped up. “What the fuck are you doing? I was playing that.”

“No shit. I guess you should have paid attention when I told you we needed to talk.” Steve smacked Roman’s foot that was hanging in the air. “Sit up when I talk to you.”

The boy did as instructed, though the resentment was obvious in every movement. Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I had a meeting with Stark tonight. We came to an agreement. You’re now engaged to his daughter. Congratulations.”

Roman shot up from the chair as if it were on fire. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not marrying that bitch. You’re out of your damn mind.”

“Watch the tone,” Steve snapped. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“And I suppose I’m just supposed to give up the club and the women, for what? A ring and a lifetime of catering to daddy’s little princess?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will. You know Stark won’t stand for any disrespect. You won’t have to marry right away. Get it out of your system now.”

“What’s going on down here?” Sharon’s grating voice drifted down the stairs in front of her.

Steve glanced over and flicked his eyes over the ridiculous robe she was wearing, a pale blue satin number with fake feathers at the neck and cuffs.

“Mommy, Steve engaged me to Stark’s daughter.” The whine had a headache blossoming behind Steve’s eyes. For fuck’s sake. The kid was twenty-two not ten.

Her eyes snapped to her husband. “You can’t just make decisions like this for him. You’re not his father.”

Steve took a step forward. “Can’t I?”

Roman’s backbone was apparently restored with the presence of his mother. “No, you can’t. You don’t own me.”

The corner of Steve’s lips flicked up in amusement. “It’s cute, really, how you think you have a choice.” He brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder then slid his hands into his pockets. “You both live lavishly because I allow it. Your comfort is due solely to my generosity.”

Sharon swallowed and lifted her chin to stare him down. “If you think you can bully us into—”

“You both,” he said, cutting her off, “enjoy a life others can only dream of. My terms are simple. Comply or forfeit everything.”

He paused to give his words a chance to sink in. “Think it over. The clock is ticking and my patience is in short supply.”

Roman’s gaze dropped first, defeat coloring his features. Sharon followed suit, her defiance crumbling in the face of the reality Steve laid bare. Everything they had, they owed to him.

Steve’s gaze flicked between them. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

[starsfic]

Halloween Night at Pigsy's

Summary:

The city, after the mayor's vacation in America, decides to throw Halloween, including trick or treating. The Traffic Light Trio is just focused on all the kids dressed up like them.

AO3/Ko-Fi

The announcement came three days after October 31st.

The mayor- the actual mayor, Long Xiaojiao had checked- had apparently been on vacation in the United States. She had been there in time to watch the American holiday of Halloween in full display, including trick or treating. It was usually overshadowed by the Mid-Autumn Festival and the Double Ninth Festival, until this year. She had gotten the idea to do mainly the trick or treating through the city’s main businesses- with candy provided by the city- to stimulate cash flow and, more importantly, as a way to bond over the past year or two of city and country-wide trauma.

"Hey, stop that sad look," Xiaojiao said, nudging Qi Xiaotian away from studying the announcement. "Not all of it is your fault. Isn't that what you're talking about with your therapist?"

"I mean, I guess." Xiaotian huffed, turning off his phone. "So, are you going to dress up?"

"Obviously!" Xiaojiao said, typing on her phone. "What about you guys?"

“Pf,” Pigsy snorted, bagging up some noodles. “If you’ll catch me dressing up on that day. It’ll be a fire hazard.” He paused, glancing over at Tang munching down on his third bowl of noodles of the morning, and then groaned. “But I will be offering a discount on noodles to those who dress up.”

Tang looked up with a gasp.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-”

“I wonder if I can get Wukong over to help pass out candy?” Xiaotian wondered as Tang started to gush at the idea. “He loves kids, and I think a lot of kids would be excited!” Even if they weren’t big fans like he was as a kid, it was still the Monkey King.

He was suddenly excited for this.

Things worked quickly in the city.

Almost by magic, every shop in the city was decorated with orange and black, green and purple, pumpkins and bats a few hours after the mayor’s announcement. Xiaotian couldn’t help but soak it in as he made his deliveries, enjoying the “spooky music” that shops began to play and the deals that were announced mirroring Pigsy’s own decision.

At least capitalism knew when to jump onto something.

Finally, the day arrived.

As he hoped, Sun Wukong agreed to come. He even ordered a truckload of candy to be delivered to the noodle shop, only adding to the sheer amount that Pigsy’s Noodles were willing to give.

An hour before trick or treating started, Xiaotian hurried down the stairs. Xiaojiao had offered to take him costume shopping, but he had refused. He had a perfectly great Monkey King cosplay! Sure, the real one would be there, but he was over the embarrassment of owning several pieces of merch.

Hopefully.

The noodle shop was all decked out, excluding Tang in his usual seat. Sandy was hurrying around, adding more cobwebs and purple glitter here and there, dressed up in a witch dress that complimented his biceps. Xiaojiao, dressed up as She-Ra, snickered from her spot as she snapped a picture of Mo in his little witch hat.

“Huh,” Pigsy said, looking around as he chopped bok choy. “I thought that six-eared weirdo would be here.”

“Bai He texted me,” Xiaotian admitted. “She’s under the cut-off, so she decided to invite Macaque trick or treating with her family.” He had even been willing to transform as a bat to compliment Bai He’s Count Dracula costume and that picture was going in the blackmail folder.

“Woah, bud! Looking good!”

Xiaotian looked up and nearly felt his heart stop at his own reflection. For a second, he was convinced that he had summoned a clone, then a flick caught his eye. Sticking out of his trademark red pants was a familiar golden monkey tail. Now that he looked closer, he could also see the blue eyeshadow and eyeliner.

“Monkey King!” Xiaojiao called, unaware of her best friend gaping. “It’s no fun if you use shapeshifting!”

“Aw…well, you got a point.” In a flash of gold, there was Sun Wukong, still wearing his clothes. “How do I look, bud? I don’t pull off orange as well as you do, but-” He paused, staring at him like he was deeply concerned…which he probably was. “You okay there, bud?”

Xiaotian sniffled. “I’mgreat.”

Wukong smiled and patted his shoulder as he walked past before calling to ask Pigsy how he could help.

The hour flew by once Xiaotian calmed down. He had to stop Wukong from making a bowl of candy with his hair, but that was fine. Soon enough, the clock struck six and a small yellow bundle rang the little bell that Sandy had rigged up.

“Trick or treat!” the kid called.

Xiaotian grabbed a bowl of candy. “Well, happy-” He looked down and nearly burst into tears again, cutting off his response.

The jacket. The bandana. The hair flap.

This little girl was dressed up as him.

“She really loves you,” one of the adults, her dad he was guessing, said with a smile. “The minute she heard about you, she insisted on getting a costume of you.”

“That…that’s cool!” No, he wasn’t crying. Pigsy was just cutting onions for the noodles. “You look really great!” He grabbed a handful of candy and threw it in her bag and grabbed a second handful. His mentor dressing up as him was one thing, this small child looking up to him was another. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to resist the urge to dump the whole thing in.”

“That’s fine!” Mini Him chirped and then she tugged under her arm and pulled out a cardboard tube. “Look, I even have my own staff!”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” It looked a little wonky, but what did it matter? This kid loved him and loved him enough to make a version of his staff!

And then she asked the question.

“Can I hold your staff?”

Xiatian froze. Both because more kids were running up, calling his name- was that a replica dragon sword- and also…no. Just, no. That would lead to a squished kid and his guilt would not be able to handle that. “I don’t think…” he said, trying to think of the best way to word this refusal as he passed out handfuls to the kids running up. “I don’t…”

“Yeah!”

“Xiaojiao?!” he sputtered at his best friend’s sudden interruption.

“We can make it work!” Xiaojiao said, plucking the candy bowl out of his hands and passing it to Wukong, who beamed and grabbed some candy. “Okay? I have some ideas…”

-_-

“Okay!” Xiaotian called, angling his body to be out of the shot of Xiaojiao and Mini Him’s mom. “Everyone say, here comes Monkie Kid!”

“HERE COMES MONKIE KID!”

The cry repeated several times once kids noticed what was happening. Thankfully, nobody threw a fit at not being able to actually hold the staff. Every time, Xiaojiao asked the parents if she could post the picture on her social media, and almost every parent agreed, claiming that they were also going to post the picture on social media.

Across China and even further out for that night and the next few weeks, several demons tuned into social media and nearly had a mass heart attack.

"Just how many rocks does that damn simian have up on his mountain?" 

"Dear god, it's spreading."

“Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope-”

Nezha snickered at the image on the phone Wukong insisted he get and liked it before sending the link to his father’s phone. He felt a grin form at his father’s horrified scream from across Heaven.

Back to the now, there was a loud cry of “THANKS!” as the kids rushed away.

“You having fun?” Xiaotian asked, looking around and feeling his heart lift at so many cheerful children’s faces.

“Duh,” Xiaojiao said, raising her hand. A boy dressed like her, carrying the third replica dragon sword he had seen tonight, wasted no time in slapping it before rushing up to another mini Xiaotian to grab his hand. “Look at Wukong’s face, he’s so happy.” Xiaotian glanced over and chuckled at the sight of his mentor, throwing handfuls of candy at the kids. His eyes gleamed in a way he had never seen before.

“Of course he is,” a familiar voice said. “My uncle has always had a weakness for the smiles of children.”

“Red Son!” Xiaotian cried, whirling around. Red looked awkward, standing in the middle of the street, but he was also dressed up. It was hard to figure out who he was, but the hair horns were a good giveaway. “I didn’t think you would show up!”

“Ugh, the Dragon Girl threatened me,” the fire demon sighed. “She has way too much-”

“Excuse me?”

They all turned to see a little boy, staring at them like they were the answer to life. He held a basket full of candy and something in the crook of his arm, but his outfit was styled in a familiar way with a red coat and purple pants. He even had his hair arranged to look like flames, much like Red Son’s ponytail.

“Yes?”

“Are you Red Son?” the little boy asked, starting to bounce on his feet. If all the mini hims and little Xiaojiaos hadn’t melted his heart already, Xiaotian was pretty sure his heart was a massive puddle.

“Yes?” the fire demon said, sounding baffled.

“Oh! I dressed up like you!” The boy spun, his coat even doing the dramatic flip like Red Son’s coat did sometimes. “You’re super cool!”

“Of course!” Red said, a grin forming. “Who wouldn't wanna be like me, the great villainous Red So-”

“You’re my favorite hero!”

Red froze. 

Xiaojiao snapped a picture of his frozen expression, chuckling to herself. Xiaotian leaned over. “Can you-?”

“Already sending.”

The fire demon finally unstiffened, staring at the lil him as though he talked in Pig Latin. Xiaotian was honestly prepared for him to burst into flames in rage, like every time he and Xiaojiao claimed he was a hero, but nothing happened. Instead, there was a baffled “Excuse me?”

“You’re my favorite hero!” the child repeated, pulling the thing out of the crook of his arm. “You helped save everyone when your dad was possessed!” Aw, he even had a little bull plush that was dressed up like DBK.

“Yes, uh, but that was my father, I conquered the city before-”

“And you helped save everyone from the Spider Queen!”

“That- my father-”

The kid continued talking, and Red kept stammering, caught off guard by the child’s insistence. It didn’t help that other kids, including ones dressed like him and Xiaojiao, were running up. Wukong walked up and pressed a bowl of candy in Red’s hands, sniggering quietly, and the fire demon began to pass handouts of candy while staring into the void that was this child’s insistence that he was a hero.

“What is going on here?”

At least, until a familiar voice boomed out.

“Father!” Red Son yelped, whirling around and, thankfully, not dropping the bowl of candy. Around them, several parents and adults had stopped. Xiaotian felt his stomach sink at the sight of looks of concern and fear. Fuck, he had no idea why DBK had come- his money was on Wukong inviting him for some reason or him looking for his son- but he couldn’t let him-

A scream splintered the silence. Xiaotian jumped at the noise and held his staff close, looking around as the noise dragged on. It took him a second to realize that there was something off about the scream as several children pushed past him. 

It wasn’t a scream of fear or pain.

It was a scream of absolute delight.

Several little Reds and even hims and Xiaojiaos were hopping around DBK, all looking overjoyed at the sight of the giant bull. Xiaotian felt his eyes go wide as DBK’s face visibly softened, leaning down so he could talk to the children.

“Are you adorable?” he said to the first lil Red, who grinned like all his wishes had come true. “Are you dressed up like my son?”

“Yeah!” The question was only aimed at one child, but ten more voices responded. “He’s my favorite hero!” Lil Red said with a huge beam.

“I’M NOT A HERO!”

Unlike what Xiaotian would think of how DBK would react at the idea of his son being called a hero, the bull demon actually grinned. “Yes, he is. Encourage him, children.”

“FATHER!”

Xiaotian felt a grin form as he sighed in relief, turning to grab another bowl of candy to help pass it out.

The street was getting crowded in a way that felt like a mini-block party. DBK and Red Son were being wonderful to the kids despite the latter's repeated insistence that he wasn't a hero. Xiaotian occasionally had to dip into the shop to help Pigsy with the noodle orders, dodging Pigsy's annoyed yelling as Tang kept swapping his costume out to cash in on half price noodles.

It wasn't until Wukong and Red came in for refills on the candy bowls that a problem presented itself.

"I could've sworn we had more," Xiaotian said, staring at where the candy was. Or, where the candy had been. "Pigsy bought an extra five big bags alongside the candy the mayor provided. We can't have run out that quickly."

"Hey!" Xiaotian poked his head out to see the boar guy from across the street rush over with a frantic look. "Do you guys have an extra candy? I could have sworn I had more, but it's all gone!"

"We're all out too," Xiaotian said, pushing himself out the doorway to look around. "Mabe Mr. Xi has some?" Nope. Five minutes ago, the candy store window had been full of candy, thanks to the elderly man stocking up in mass. Now, he was staring at the store and its empty displays like it was the end of time.

"Excuse me?" A few parents had hurried up. "Did any of our kids accidentally drop some candy here? Their bags are empty," the mom in charge said. "But I've seen you and them pass out candy."

"Plus," a dad spoke up. "They got a lot before we entered this street, so their bags shouldn't be empty like that."

Xiaotian looked out at the entire street. A wave of shock and confusion was rolling through the crowd as more kids looked in their bags and realized that they were suddenly and mysteriously tempting, prompting other kids to check their bags. Angry grumbles and tears were sparking to life, ready to become a blaze of emotion.

"We haven't," Wukong was saying when Xiaotian turned back to the conversation. "We just checked, and all of our candy has disappeared too."

"And I know I grabbed enough for leftovers," Pigsy said, looking both concerned and very annoyed. He glanced at Red Son, who puffed up his chest in annoyance.

"My father and I have better things to do than steal candy from-"

"IT WAS US!"

...of fucking course.

Yin and Jin stood at the end of the street, both dressed like American greasers (at least, if greasers looked like huge nerds). Behind them was a giant canvas bag, easily taller than every building here.

"Monkie Kid! It's your greatest rivals..."

"Yin-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Xiaotian had to interrupt. "This is the rudest thing you guys have ever done!"

"Who cares?!" Jin called. "We have all the candy! We're the winners!"

Fuck, this was ridiculous. And crossed a line. Qi Xiaotian pulled out his staff. “Give that-”

“GIVE THAT BACK!”

The little girl, his first mini-him, glared at Yin and Jin. There was a frightening look in her eyes, and Xiaotian realized, with a bolt of unease, that it was spreading as every kid on the street turned and stared down the demon twins.

Either Yin was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid (Xiaotian was willing to bet the latter), because he leaned forward. “Oh, yeah, lil Monkie Kid? What are you gonna do? Huh? What are you-”

An ax went flying from the crowd, beaning him right in the face and sending Yin stumbling back.

That was enough.

“GET THEM!” Mini Him yelled, hoisting up her staff.

A stampede of children went running at Yin and Jin. Not all of them were dressed like him, Xiaojiao, or Red. It didn’t matter. The sugar-hungry children launched themselves in a wave at the demon twins. Jin froze, gripping a bloody-nosed Yin, and whimpered, “Mommy.”

The twins disappeared under the wave, several staffs and swords and other fake weapons being used for their intended purpose.

Xiaotian stepped forward but froze at a particularly loud scream.

Yeah, he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

“GO! GO! GO BABY DRAGONS!” Apparently, Xiaojiao didn’t either. Instead, she hovered at the edge of the mosh pit, her phone up and recording. Red cackled next to her, his hair shooting off sparks.

The crowd briefly parted to reveal Jin, covered in bruises and sobbing his eyes out. “Help me!” he called, reaching out for Xiaotian. Before he could consider it, Jin was yanked back into the crowd.

A few children eventually broke away from the crowd to attack the giant bag of candy. Xiaotian did approach at that, helping the kids pull open the bag to reveal the honestly huge amount. “Who wants candy!” he called.

“I do.”

He blinked at the sight of the demon accountant, dressed up in a pink silk jacket. “Uh…” he said, glancing at Yin and Jin, still being whacked with a bunch of plastic and cardboard weapons.

“Don’t even ask,” she said, holding up a bag. “Just please give me some chan pui mui and brown sugar candy. I’m leaving those idiots to their fate.”

Fair enough. Xiaotian dumped a bunch of candy in her bag without question.

The rest of the children eventually got bored of beating up Yin and Jin and wandered over to collect their candy. If their weapons were dented and they had slight traces of blood on them, Xiaotian didn’t say a thing. He simply handed out candy and ignored the sobbing demon twins.

The kids finally left when the clock struck midnight. Mini Him insisted on one last hug from both him and Wukong. Xiaotian accepted it. “You did really good tonight, helping your friends get their candy back,” he said, unsure of what exactly to say. “Keep being brave?” Was that a good thing to say? Yeah.

“Maybe one day you’ll be a hero like Xiaotian!” Wukong said as he hugged her before a yelp came out, loud enough that Xiaotian flinched. Mini Him giggled and pulled back, revealing that a large chunk of golden fur was clenched in her hand. “What was that for?” Monkey King whined, rubbing his tail.

“Shrine!” she chirped before turning and skipping away. Her parents sent apologetic looks before trailing after her.

Xiaotian refused to say a thing, except…

“I think you got tricked back for trying to replace the candy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wukong sighed, standing up. “Now, who wants to eat all of the leftover candy and watch horror movies?”

“WE DO!”

[suzyblue0292]

Rewatch - Dead Boy Detectives S1E1 - The Case of Crystal Palace

We are introduced to Edwin guarding Charles or the boys guardian each other

The bickering

They are time cards not library cards.

Does the show often say one thing and show another? REVISIT

“Death will take us” v Death asking Wilfred if he is ready

The boxing scene is interesting given everything we learn about Edwin later - getting out of hell couldn’t have been easy he has to have more skill than Charles gives him credit for - or they want the audience to give him less credit

You are the brawn? - I feel like they want us to doubt the narrative. 

We are presented with Crystal as a good person. (Aside from being American apparently). Again we are being told one thing so we are blindsided by the other. 

The looks on the boys' faces when they observe Crystal. 

We never see them as relaxed looking as they are in the office again. 

Edwin knows how to knit.

Was there a debate over the disguises?

She has her purse and phone. Does the memory loss prevent her from reading her contacts/ID?? 

Charles does not hesitate to call Edwin on his BS - he also knows that Edwin is jealous (just not the exact nature of said jealousy) - but he said it himself during the boxing scene - he knows Edwin hates change - and the very first thing we see him doing in the next scene is defending Edwin to Crystal

This is also how we learn about the “Clerical error” - is this the extent of Charles’ knowledge or the best way he has to explain it?

We start to see the meaner side of Crystal but Charles' good nature still acts a deterrent from following that to a conclusion.

Charles’ admits that part of the reason its so good to talk to Crystal is because she’s living and his age - they probably don’t meet a huge amount of teenage ghosts - although I would guess they might have more unfinished business than most - I have a feeling its the living part that’s the biggest appeal

What is Edwin doing with the coffee??

Why are you warning Edwin about the cleaver, Charles? 

Crystal is carrying a considerable amount of cash - but no cards?

Edwin gets them a clue quickly through mirror travel. - The Cat King and his little bracelet are quite the plot devices. 

Why so rude to the cat Charles?

Also did the Crow not tip off the whole witch thing?

Crystal seems so young and vulnerable when she realizes the girls are staring.

Crystal’s mind is so desolate - all the broken picture frames - empty memories - the three eyeballs should have given it away though - “the third eye”

We know they can travel by mirror, and the normal way, but can ghosts travel through ether? How do they get in front of Crystal?

Poor Charles, no it’s not a competition but Crystal and Edwin are both terrified in their own right.

Every demonic case must be a nightmare for Edwin and now he realizes they didn’t get rid of the demon. He only knows how to express his fear in terms of case work though. 

The flashback: Simon is so clearly reaching out, but Edwin is so clearly expecting to be bullied. And the shot of him marching against the flow of other students, bless.

Its also so heartbreaking that Edwin is terrified BEFORE there is any sign the demon sacrifice will work. God only knows what he thought those boys would do. 

Five other boys died with Edwin and it seems like Sa ’al obliterates their bodies. Was there anything for the school to give the parents to bury? Just ashes? No wonder it was deemed an act of God. Six boys either vanished or reduced to ashes. 

And no wonder the memory drives Edwin to recklessness. 

Jenny laying down the hard truth. 

“I get angry. It's like knowing you have a home but being unable to get there.” Poster child speaks to poster child.

Yeah, I totally thought Niko was going to be the love interest.

Why never tell Edwin? Because he really can’t go home?

I try to be extra happy for all of us. - Oh Charles.

And now the boy who was dragged to hell learns that Crystal chose her demon. Ouch.

Edwin isn’t just yelling at Crystal. He’s reminding Charles too. “You are sharp and fun, but this isn’t a game.”

They are such vulnerable children, and then so cute as they plot.

Poor Jenny. She doesn’t doesn’t even get paid teacher’s wages for this shit.

Edwin does a good job of actually telling Crystal the stakes with the plastic girl bit. She  might be cottoning on. 

Charles is comforting Crystal, but holding Edwin.

Note that Charles doesn’t roll his eyes or dispute “and we’re punishing you.” After Edwin’s outburst and Crystal’s confession his loyalties seem to have tipped back a bit.

Why doesn’t it trip Edwin that Esther left her kettle on? It worried me from word go.

Again, Charles is the brawn but Edwin is the one checking out the weird witch’s lair.

So many fucking shoes.

I love Esther. I know I shouldn’t but….

Can Charles actually understand the Crow?

Edwin has such poor form, but he does as well as Charles when it comes down to it.

Round 1 of Esther underestimating Crystal

Edwin goes straight to help Crystal, despite his concern for Charles possessing Esther. 

Okay was anyone else expecting that kid to get mowed down crossing the street?

Oh Charles, counting your chickens to soon is a bad idea.

It’s interesting that Charles possessing someone sets off an alarm for them both - this must not be the first time they’ve tangled with the afterlife for them to have a joint file.

[thefallennightmare]

I’m sliding in the DM’s late and I’m so sorry 🫣 but I saw Monday Headcannon’s and I had to swoop in and put in a lil request for my citrus king Jesse Cash 🍊🎸 Leaving the direction totally up to you because I know that your brilliant self will come up with absolute gold no matter what!🫶🏻

Also, I’m sure you have a ton of requests and have been working all day, so no pressure or anything! I’ve been catching up and swooning over the headcannons you’ve posted through out the day and just wanted to drop my lil Jesse simp paper in the request box if you were willing/had time!❤️

For you(@burning-outx) and Jesse Cash, I'll always have time! Don't worry about sliding in too late, I'm up anyway watching a movie.

Also, thank you for giving me the honor of writing my first Jesse Cash fic. I'm so fucking excited. I've decided to go the route of when you and Jesse met for the first time.

You were standing outside the venue when Jesse spotted you for the first time. Erra just finished playing their set and he needed a few moments of the chilly night air to cool his burning skin.

You were leaning against the old brick of the building, talking with your friends about how amazing the show was and how alive Erra made you feel while they played.

Jesse thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, one look at you and it took his breath away. He nearly stumbled back into the doorway.

Your laugh infected him in the best way possible. The way your entire face lit up when you smiled made something twinge low in his gut. Jesse didn't want to disrupt you talking with your friends but he needed to hear your voice, see that smile up close.

So when he noticed that you dropped your wallet, trying to make sure you had all your belongings, he took it as the opportunity he needed.

"Excuse me," his soft voice broke through the night air after your friends had left. "You dropped this."

Your eyes widened when you realized the man you'd been swooning over all night was handing you your wallet. Never in a million years would you have thought this moment would happen.

"Thank you," you breathed.

Jesse shifted on his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "So, did you like the show?"

You spoke with him for a few minutes, explaining how you've seen Erra a handful of times, and each time, they get better and better.

You didn't miss the way his cheeks reddened at the compliment.

When you made a comment about needing to head to your car down the block, Jesse offered to walk you.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. You must be busy."

"Not at all. I would feel better knowing that you made it safe."

With a nod, your heart hammering in your chest, the two of you walked side by side down the block toward your car, conversation between the two of you flowing easily; almost as if you'd known each other for years.

Every so often, your hand would graze over his sending shock waves through your body.

Unfortunately, you reached your car way too fast much to your dismay and you weren't quite ready to say goodbye.

The last handful of minutes, it didn't feel like you were talking to Jesse Cash, the guitar player of Erra. It just felt like you were talking to Jesse Cash, the simple guy.

For the first time in a long time, Jesse felt at ease talking with someone and didn't have to worry about if they wanted him for something other than what he could offer.

While adjusting his glasses, Jesse cleared his throat. "I know this might seem a bit forward but could I possibly get your number? If you're alright with that."

You couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked while nervous but nodded with a wide smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Once numbers were exchanged, you still weren't quite ready to say goodbye. You were feeling bold. Clearly, he had some sort of feelings because he asked for your number.

"This might seem a bit forward," you repeated his words back to him, taking a step closer and titling your lips up to him. "But if it's alright with you I'd really like to kiss you."

You asked the question but it was Jesse who softly pinned you to the car, crashing his lips to yours.

He tasted sweet and citrusy, like oranges, and you hummed in delight when your tongue molded together perfectly.

It was the kind of kiss that was heavy and desperate for more, but Jesse didn't want to push you any farther than you felt comfortable with.

Pulling away breathlessly, he leaned his forehead against yours. "I guess I'll talk to you soon?"

With a Chesire cat grin, you nodded. "Definitely."

You left him with another kiss before slipping inside of your car, him watching you drive away, his own smile on his face.

Fuck, you were so glad you agreed to go with your friends to the show tonight.

[lol-jackles]

https://www.tumblr.com/walker-girl/750007869557129216/hahaha-this-is-so-funny-love-when-vinnie-pisses

https://www.instagram.com/p/C6tx5zCOUTd/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

I may not have much business experience but I don’t think this is good news no matter how hard AAs try to spin it.

Based on what the ex-master brewer said after a bunch of people were let go over the holidays, that only Gino and one other taproom employee were left. Now with the taproom closed, guess it’s just Gino managing everything with the contract brewing relationship, distribution, sales and marketing.

Seems like the taproom closing is just a first step before FBBC quietly disappears from the marketplace.

Unless the AAs are right and this IS a good thing for FBBC because they outgrew the facility and outsourcing its brewing operations made it a more efficient business.

What is your opinion?

Link. Link. *rub forehead* AAs clearly never had lemonade stands when they were kids.

We used to joke that AAs don't have jobs because the message board threads' timestamps showed they were always online from mornign to night.

Uh huh, FBBC's DS location is temporarily closing down. That's like saying you're temporarily burning down a building. No the building is on fire you donut hole.

Anybody remember when the Ackles were supposed to open a second location in South Austin (X) six years ago? That didn't appear to happen and now they're supposedly looking for 2nd taproom location. Back then I said the Ackles may go the contract brewing route because it cost much less to rent out another brewer’s facility and brew the beer themselves with the FBBC recipes.  But the Ackles end up doing the contract brewing when they stopped brewing at Dripping Springs, laid off employees, closed for 3 days of the week because it cost more to stay open, while most breweries in DP are are open 6 or 7 days a week.

That's not expansion, that's contraction. In other words, they're downsizing because FBBC is struggling because they don't have enough cash flow.

Remember kids, in business, cash flow is king and more important than your mother. Because you can run a non-profitable company indefinitely with positive cash flow. But without cash flow, a profitable company will quickly run into the ground. 

Part of me thinks the search for the 2nd taproom is give Gino something to do as a glorified bartender.

[cattapz037]

I just finished watching Wish and I decided to write down everything that I found wrong with the animation, the songs, the story. I found 36…I’m never watching that movie again. I won’t list all the things but I’ll sum it up into paragraphs.

The story felt choppy, I didn’t think it flowed well. 30 mins in and it wasn’t the halfway mark but felt like it.

They tried to mix 2D and 3D and failed. The 2D backgrounds with 3D characters felt like I was watching a school play. And why is everyone’s clothes so blocky?

The songs speak for themselves. The lyrics made no sense and the beat of the songs were off. At All Costs should have been cut when they cut Starboy, it did not fit the new context. I’m A Star was excruciating to listen to and This Is The Thanks I Get did not feel like a villain song

Asha is….Asha. When she says that her weakness is that she gets irrational when nervous she immediately gets told that she is wrong and that it’s “caring too much”, yes I see that this could have been what she was told to say for the interview so she could get the job but they didn’t clarify if that was what it was for.

She didn’t even get the job yet and immediately asked if Magnifico could grant her grandfather’s wish. You can clearly see that he gets upset with her request, you can see his face falter after she asks. He was so happy to have an applicant who would be a perfect successor and then his happiness gets crushed in seconds and even mentions how some people wait until a year to ask for things, he was going to give her the job and then she ruined it.

Wishing for “more than this”. Girl, your kingdom is prospering and people have their wishes away willingly knowing that they might not get granted in their lifetime, look at your grandpa he has been waiting for so long and didn’t care waiting a while longer until you told him that his wish will never be granted.

And on that subject he told Asha not to tell him what his wish was because since he knew it was never going to be granted why deal with the heartbreak but SHE PERSISTED! Also she refused to bake his birthday cake. She didn’t say “I can’t because of stuff” she said “No” then she said she couldn’t but only after Sabino gets upset… “I care too much” “I see how much you look after others” SHE WOULDN’T BAKE HER GRANDPA A BIRTHDAY CAKE!!

The line “I never knew I needed room to grow.” Gee, arrogant much? Also she genuinely believes that she is right, doesn’t think well maybe the king has a point, no, she thinks she’s right.

Star doesn’t grant wishes…then what’s its purpose? Also apparently wishing better for your family is selfish.

Oh the goat can talk now…he’s three weeks old and talks like an adult and I’m not saying that just because of his VA

MAGNIFICO WAS RIGHT!! If we have learned anything from The Monkey’s Paw is that wishes can be dangerous even if you mean well. Also we never learn about his past, it’s mentioned but we are never told what actually happened. The villagers only care about their wishes and Magnifico even calls them out on it before giving in to their request by using it to his own benefit of finding the traitor. And when he is possessed by the book they say it is difficult to defeat him but they end up defeating him rather easily

Way too many references being shoved into your face, if they were subtle it would be fine but they weren’t. Most were Peter Pan references and then he literally shows up

Just keep wishing? That’s the moral and not “never give up on your dreams”?

I’m not sure if that’s all of it but that is what I gathered…if this wasn’t the 100 years anniversary movie I wouldn’t give it much thought but since it is…this was pain it hurt, the disrespect to their legacy. Not to mention the scene where they reference the Cinderella transformation. This didn’t feel like a good old age Disney movie, this felt like a new age Disney cash grab. This never should have been the celebration movie

[average-submas-enthusiast]

My Experience with Wilbur Soot

So, the Wilbur Soot situation. This is mostly going to be me ranting abt the whole situation, so don't keep reading if you don't care.

I mostly just had to type this out and post it so I can vent and (hopefully) get over Wilbur Soot.

Wilbur supporters DNI

I've been a fan of Wilbur's for a long time, I believe the first time I watched him was in January 2021. Initially, I just knew him from Technoblade's (Rest in Power, king) videos, but after a while, he kinda grew into his own thing for me.

I wasn't huge into Dream Smp as it came out, as most of the time I couldn't tune in for personal reasons.

I started seriously watching it in September of 2021 if I remember correctly. It soon became a hyperfixation of mine. I knew basically every crumb of lore like the back of my hand, and I loved what Wilbur did for both the server and its stories. I still do, to an extent, as the Dream SMP is still really near and dear to my heart.

Then, Lovejoy’s Pebble Brain album came out. Previously, I had no idea Wilbur had started a band, so it was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. So when I tell you that that album had been my single favorite album of all time up until this point, you better believe it. I spent hours listening to the songs, over and over again, whether it was on a good day or a bad one, I always had a small comfort.

After about a year or so, I fell out of MCYT again. I still kept up with it occasionally, mostly just watching Tommy and Wilbur.

Frankly, before Tuesday, I hadn't even thought about Wilbur Soot since about 2 months ago. So, when all of a sudden, I saw he was trending on here, I was somewhat excited. I thought he had announced a new project or something. So, I clicked on the hashtag.

I am truly disgusted by Wilbur Soot's actions. To think, someone who I personally looked up to, did such horrendous actions is horrifying to me.

A part of me feels almost ashamed that I didn’t see it, that any signs in the past of Will being a bad person I swept under the rug, choosing to ignore it because “He was young'' or “He said he was sorry”. However, I have since realized that I COULDN’T know what was going on behind the scenes. I only saw his persona, the mask he put on when he streamed or was recording. TBH, this situation has really affected me, if me writing such a long post about the situation didn't tip you off already.

And worst of all was his "apology”. I first learned about this situation on Tuesday, about 3 hours before he made his public “apology”. When I read it, at first I was semi-satisfied, because he claimed he was/had gone to therapy and felt his previous actions were “slobish, disrespectful, and selfish”. I felt like he had downplayed his actions, but that overall he had felt bad and was seeking help.

Then, I realized a ton of things were wrong with it. Not only did he downplay his actions, he completely skipped over like 75% of it, he also JUST DIDN'T SAY SORRY. He somewhat vaguely apologized, if you turn your head and squint, but the words “I'm sorry” never appear in the text.

With all these things coming together, plus all the reactions by creators that have met him IRL/talked to him in private, I can't in good conscience support Wilbur Soot. Whether it be in music, youtube, twitch, whatever, I just can’t. I have removed all of both his and Lovejoy’s songs from my streaming playlists, and have pirated a small few that I’ve used as comfort music. I plan on eventually fully cutting him and his work out entirely, but I need a little time to adjust. I feel bad for not supporting Lovejoy, as there are other members than Will, but I feel it is the best course of action unless they fully remove him from both the band and the cash flow.

Hopefully reading through my experience has helped anybody else who has felt a familiar experience to me. I truly hope Wilbur gets the help he needs, he is a messed up individual, and needs psychological help.

Small note: Please, don't tell Wilbur to kill himself, while his actions were bad, that's not an excuse to tell somebody to end their own life. His actions were horrible, but verbally assaulting someone online is not a reasonable reaction to this situation.

Go support Shubble. She's very brave to talk about her experiences. Support SA victims. Go support both Tommy and Phil, Tommy has most likely been a victim of his manipulation and abuse and Phil is a close friend of his that most likely feels betrayed and hurt by his close friend’s actions.

I don't really have anything else to say, so bye everyone, stay safe and vigilant.

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

Be My Witness

Part 6 - b i g f e e l i n g s

Word Count: 6885, she chonk

Fem!Reader, intimate!platonic Reader x Angel, Reader x Stolas, (eventual) intimate!platonic Reader x Alastor

TRIGGER Warning- descriptions of drug and alcohol use, drug abuse, non-sober sex, blood and descriptions of blood loss, descriptions of needles, blood drawing, MDNI please

A/N: trying something new and adding a song to fit the theme of each chapter!! lemme know what yall think :) alsooo ooohh whats thisss?? Val being sexy and attentive??? 🙈

Song: "b i g f e e l i n g s" By WILLOW

Valentino was quick to call Y/n into his office after he'd caught word that she had landed the big prince himself.

Once again, this slinky woman managed to pull her weight just at the right time. 

With the rest of his tower being built and renovated, Val needed the extra cash flow to see the project done asap. The sooner he could get the building up and running, the sooner Valentino would be able to set aside time for more personal endeavors. Something he had been putting off for far too long.

When the check signed by the Goetian King hit his account, he nearly dropped his cigarette into his lap. He had to stand to fully process the numbers he was seeing in his account. 

With that amount, Valentino actually contemplated giving Y/n a rightfully deserved break. 

But then the greed in his brain took over, and he realized he had to exploit this for as much and as long as he could. He had to make it clear to her that messing up was not an option.

So when Y/n came into his office, that's exactly what he told her. 

“Damn, mami! Looks like you made quite the impression. I don't know what you did but you better still have a few tricks up your sleeve because you are definitely seeing him again.” He brought his cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. “Don't fuck this up for us,” he warned sweetly, possessive fingers on her chin forcing her to meet his glare. He punctuated with a smokey kiss, then sent her on her way.

Jokes on him, letting her go without forcefully fucking her into the couch first was a break in itself.

Barely a week later, she came home from work, bleary eyes finding Angel with a letter in hand. 

He looked at her expectantly. The paper was thick and yellowed, and sealed tightly with a dollop of burgundy wax, Stolas’ emblem pressed into it. She quickly took it from Angel with a shy grin, before sitting down to read.

It started with a heartfelt message of gratitude, thanking her for her time and company, and most importantly, her patience. He signed off with a request to see her again in the upcoming week. He assured he would arrange everything, she need only give him the word. 

She wished she didn't feel so conflicted.

It's true, she already wished to see the dashing prince again and slip into the fantasy world he had provided. But after her conversation with Val, the thought of continuing to see sweet Stolas while still taking his money made her feel ill. 

But she didn't have a choice. At the end of the day Stolas was a client, and Valentino was very clear with his command. 

Don't fuck this up.

So she wrote back and told him he would be seeing her very soon. And she did.

It went on like that for a month or so, corresponding through letters to set up times and dates to see each other.

And when they were together, they talked, read, gardened... Anything and everything in between. 

Aside from a few heated make out sessions and exploratory hands here and there, they never felt the need to take it any further. Seeing his dazed, fluttering eyes upon pulling away was satisfactory to her. And for him, feeling her ribs expand in his hands, hearing her fight to find her breath, was the same.

For a month or so, they played pretend and played house, cooking and eating together, tending to the plants. Organizing the libraries, which he does a lot. 

Despite the various servants he could easily pass the job off to, Stolas insists on doing it himself. He says it's because the servants never do it correctly. Y/n knows it's because it soothes his anxiety. 

She gets it. If she had a vast library to organize and reorganize anytime she felt like she was spiraling into doom, maybe she wouldn't have turned to drugs. 

One evening, after she and Stolas spent a relaxing day in the pool, one of Valentinos cars pulled into the driveway. 

Y/n sat up in her lounge chair, nerves settling deep in her stomach as she watched it pull to a stop. She looked over at Stolas who lounged beside her, wine glass in hand. It seems he too had noticed the vehicle, and judging by the look on his face, he hadn't been the one to call on it. 

Y/n swallowed hard and looked back at the car. One of Valentino’s goons had gotten out and was stood waiting, arms crossed, watching her fixedly.

Y/n moved without thinking. Grabbing her towel and covering up, she made her way back towards the house, without so much as a word to Stolas. 

He called out her name, and when she didn't answer, he jumped up as well, leaving his drink and things by the pool.

He followed her inside, his worry rising with every silent step she took. 

Though he had called her name almost the whole way there, it wasn't until they reached his room did she finally say something, disconcerted as it was.

“I have to, uhm,” she cleared her throat quickly. “I have to get going.”

Stolas had never heard her speak so curtly. It told him that something was undoubtedly wrong.

“What's the matter?” 

She didn't respond.

“Y/n?”

He watched her slip back into her clothes, not bothering to take off her wet bathing suit. She grabbed the towel she had been using, and her bag, then turned quickly into the restroom. She didn't look at him once.

Stolas resorted to pacing ever so slowly in front of his books. He was trying not to let his worry get the best of him.

Y/n was obviously shaken by something. He knew his own anxiety thrown on top of hers would do her no good.

So he waited, hands clasped behind his back, eyes boring into the ground where he stepped. It took a few rather long minutes, and just when he contemplated calling her name again, she appeared, pushing through the washroom curtains. 

Her eyes scanned the room slowly, like she was seeing everything for the very first time. And the second her eyes landed on him, he knew something was different. Something was off.

She gave him the slightest nod, then gathered her things clumsily, nearly losing her balance while bending over to grab her shoes. 

Stolas finally stepped in. He crossed the room, grabbed the shoe from her hand and sat her down on the bed. She landed with a huff. 

He kneeled in front of her and worked the shoes onto her feet.

“I've never seen you like this before, love,” he started carefully. 

She still didn't say anything, just stared as he tied up her laces. When he finished with that, he joined her up on the bed. 

He was facing her completely while she stubbornly faced forward. He placed a hand on hers, but nothing he did seemed to be clicking.

She tried to stand, pulling her hand out from under his. But Stolas had had enough of her avoidance. His arm shot out in front of her waist, barring her from getting up. 

“Stop. Please,” he insisted, practically begging. He couldn't believe this, the way she was acting with him. What had he done to deserve this treatment from her?

Then it struck him. And regretfully so.

He's paying for her to be there. And maybe time had run out…

Like one of his hungry plants, disgust bloomed inside him. Disgust with himself.

He retracted his arm and murmured a small apology.

Y/n stood and put distance between them. It made him feel powerless and little. Where was the tender adoring demon he knew her to be? Replaced by a hardened, sullen version of her. And how could he blame her.

“I'll be alright, Stolas,” she said coolly, not meeting his gaze. 

He didn't believe her.

“I meant what I said about your safety. Do you remember?” He stood, filling the uncomfortable silence. “I don't wish to ever see you in harm's way.”

She shifted on her feet, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

He hesitated to continue, not wanting to aggravate her even more. But he persisted anyway, pushing through the discomfort. 

“Are they hurting you, love?”

She inhaled sharply, suddenly stepping around the bed and towards the door. “I have to go, Stolas.”

That told him everything he needed to know. His stomach sank to the floor. 

Stolas wanted to go down and tear apart that smug security guard that was waiting for her. And then he wanted to make Y/n tell him where her boss was so he could flay him alive.

He felt rage flowing through his veins, buzzing under his skin. He had to reel himself in before he let it consume him. 

Y/n had stopped in the doorway. Stolas thought she would have left while he was stewing in anger. But her small voice pulled him out of his rage quicker than anything.

“Will you walk me out…” His head snapped to look at her. “Please?” 

He was by her side in an instant, offering his arm. She took it with a small, saddened smile. He saw now just how red her eyes were. Glazed and unfocused, too.

He assumed she had been crying in the bathroom. He had no reason to believe anything else.

For the past two months, Stolas had brought a sense of peace and lucidity to Y/n that she had been missing for decades. When she was with him, that twinging, incessant need to numb her mind and body subsided just enough to tolerate being sober. 

Up until today, these two parts of her life -Stolas and Val-, hadn't mixed. At least, not any further than a wired payment. 

She just hadn’t realized how far into this fantasy she had tucked herself. And Valentino's car pulling up was her very rude awakening.

She hadn't meant to get as high as she did, truly she didn't. But when she was in the bathroom, fumbling to pop and swallow whatever little pill she had found in the bottom of her bag, she bit her cheek. Hard. She cursed herself repeatedly, trying to spit out what she could into the pearly white sink. She turned on the tap to wash it away, then tried rinsing her mouth as well. It only did so much. 

So she dealt with it. She had no choice. Valentino was waiting for her. And so was Stolas, right in the other room. So she pulled herself together, playing sober best she could. Luckily, Stolas was none the wiser.

On their way out, they passed by his study where he had them stop for a moment.

He quickly wrote something down on a scrap of paper.

“The phone number for the house,” he said, handing it to her, resolute in his gaze. “You call, anytime you need.” He placed it firmly in her hesitant hand and closed her fingers over it. 

He stroked her arm delicately before taking it again, finally exiting the mansion into the courtyard.

The guard moved to open the car door when he saw them approach. It made Y/n's breath hitch. It didn't go unnoticed by Stolas.

With a subtle squeeze to his bicep, she let go and went to climb into the car.

Stolas caught her by the hand though, dissatisfied with her goodbye. He pulled her to him quickly, wrapping her in a tight embrace, part of him scared it would be the last time. He willed himself not to let his thoughts go there.

His face pressed into the top of her head, her soft ears tickling his face. He tightened his hold on her, and she finally embraced him back, squeezing just as tightly.

“You mean so much to me,” he cooed. “I hope you know that.”

Then she pulled away with a sniffle, and ducked into the car. He moved to give her one last goodbye, and just as he met her eyes, the guard slammed the door shut. 

Stolas smiled and waved anyway, unable to see her through the windows. He watched the car disappear down the street as he vowed to find a way to make their relationship work. Based on trust and adoration- not money.

It turns out, Y/n had forgotten about one of her appointments. 

A last minute scheduling on Val’s end. Something about a new investor being interested in their product. She scolded herself for forgetting and hoped Val didn't hold it against her. 

She walked into his office, arms already crossed over her chest. 

“Mamitas! I went to your apartment and Angel told me you were out with the Goetia.” He approached her, lower arms outstretched, upper arms mimicking her crossed ones. “I would have gone all the way to go get you but I had some other things to attend to. Listen, mami," he steamrolled right into his next thought. "I admire your dedication, but,” Val grabbed her shoulders. “Don't let it interfere with our very important schedule," he lectured.

Y/n nodded stiffly, being sure to look at him.

He smiled wide. “Good. Now,” a thrilled glint lit up his eyes as he threw an arm around her waist, his hand subtly feeling up her flank. He walked her to the sofa as he spoke. “Before we get down to business, I owe you a drink.”

He set her down on the leather couch and she flinched as the cold material bit into her thighs. 

Val spun around with a soft flourish of his wings.

She noticed then the bottle of champagne sitting on his desk. The gold metallic foil wrapped around the spout stuck out from the bucket of ice it sat in. Condensation gathered and dripped down the side, and onto a black folded towel. Next to it, stood two tall glasses. 

“Oh,” she swallowed. She was conflicted between wanting the drink to soothe her nerves, and refusing the drink for the sake of keeping a clear head. Well, as clear as can be with what drugs she had already taken. “What for, exactly?” 

Val swept up the glasses and bottle and turned back around. He moved so sharply that droplets of ice cold water flung off the bottle and onto her exposed legs. 

If she had remembered this last minute appointment she would have worn longer pants or brought a jacket. Valentinos office always ran on the colder side, and with her damp bathing suit still on underneath, the chill was setting in quicker than usual.

She fought a shiver.

“Because,” he plopped down beside her, handing her a glass. “With how things are looking, the tower will be completed five months sooner than projected,” he popped the cork, foam exploding out the top. Val caught what he could with his glass, pouring to the brim. Then he moved to Y/n's, doing the same, laughing as he spilled clumsily onto her lap. A shiver finally worked its way up her legs. “And that is all thanks to you, fucking that royal freak.” He finished with a clink of his glass to hers.

She suppressed the urge to defend Stolas, and she wouldn't bother correcting his assumption either. If Val still believed that her having sex with Stolas is what was bringing in the money, so be it.

“Well, uhm…” She raised her glass, but didn't drink. “You're welcome.” 

Val nodded, bringing his glass to his lips. She didn't miss how he watched her over the rim, waiting, expecting her to drink with him.

He wasn't giving her a choice in this.

So she raised her glass and took several large sips, ignoring the sting of the carbonation going down. She pulled a half empty glass away from her lips. 

Val laughed lightly.

“Eso es, mami.” 

He filled it up again.

She and Val sat and spoke for a while, drinking until the bottle was empty. He interrogated her about her time with the blue-blood client, getting deeply invasive with his questions. What positions, which holes, how many climaxes, where and how he liked to be touched, how he sounds... so on.

It was insanely uncomfortable. 

Mostly because she had decided early on that Stolas was too special to her, and that the only person she would kiss-and-tell about him with, is Angel. And even then, she kept most of the nitty-gritty details to herself.

But also because she and Stolas had never actually had sex. She genuinely didn't have answers for most of Val's questions. She couldn't answer him honestly even if she wanted to. Which she didn't.

So she lied. She said the first things to come to mind, hoping it was risqué enough for Val's approval.

She tried to keep track of her falsities and fake stories through her high and increasing drunkenness. Another day of not eating, biting her in the ass again.

At some point during their conversation, Valentino wound an arm around her and pulled her up onto his lap. 

In any other instance, she would have resisted. But the cold was getting to be unbearable. And with the chilled champagne in her hand, and the wet strings of her swimsuit tickling her neck, she couldn't hold back her shivers anymore. So she let him pull her up, warmth from his lap seeping into her legs. 

She squirmed to get more comfortable, making him harden beneath her.

Val continued his questioning, hot hands flitting across her cool skin. He kept his eyes on her face, insisting she keep answering his questions through her quivering sighs. 

It had been a while since Val had paid her this much attention while toying with her body. Since assuming the role of an Overlord, his fuckings had turned a bit impersonal, happening more for stress relief than for just pure fun and enjoyment. It wasn't her favorite version of Val to be having sex with. 

It certainly wasn't the worst version of him though.

And lucky for her, he seemed in some kind of mood today, giving her a more proper warm up before trying to enter her.

He watched her face, brows furrowed, eyes fluttering to maintain his eye contact. Her lips pressed together, desperate to hold in her moans. 

For as good as his warmth felt, his feathery hands made a new kind of chill settle in her bones. It made her teeth click and chatter. Val's hands got heavier and more stern, which helped a bit. But he realized it simply wouldn't do when he went to kiss her and a tremble cut him short.

“You cold, mami?” 

He knew the answer, he just wanted her to say something about it. She nodded quickly. 

“You want me to warm you up?” 

She nodded again. 

Val took her chin in his fingers, stopping her from moving her head. His eyes followed his thumb as it ran over the bottom of her lips, lightly parting them, before they flicked back up to meet hers.

“Use your words.”

She rolled her eyes at him. He grinned back at her.

“Please,” she tried.

“Please, what?”

She already hated herself for allowing this. But she was just so fucking cold.

“Please, papi,” she begged. “Keep me warm.” 

The couch was even colder when he leaned her back against it.

“Claro, mami.” 

He was on her in an instant, undoing both of their pants and pushing inside her swiftly. 

She would never admit it out loud, but she missed this side of Val. Assertive and sensual. Arrogant, yes, of course. But at least he was being mindful of her pleasure again. 

He watched her as he fucked her. Her face twisted in delight each time he went deeper, her hands seeking him out. He stayed just out of her grasp, enjoying seeing her reach for him so desperately. Her nipples were hard, stimulated both by the freezing sofa she lay on and the waves of arousal sweeping up her body.

Val wanted to see her struggle before he fulfilled her request. He only let it go on for a minute or so, but it felt like eternity to her.

When he was satisfied, he leaned in, only to wrap his arms around her tightly before hoisting her back up onto his lap.

She cursed breathlessly at the sudden shift inside her, shuddering forward into his chest. Her hands slammed into him as her hips settled down further.

Another shiver ran up Y/n's spine, and it didn't stop there. It tore through her chest, working its way up her neck and over her scalp. Once it started, she couldn't stop her jaw from trembling. 

Her teeth chattered as she seized Val's shirt, crumpling it in her tight grasp. Her skull rattled with the force of her tremors and she held on for dear life. 

Where was this warmth he had promised? 

All four of his hands held her firmly, guiding her hips up and down on top of him. None of them, nor the friction at her core, brought nearly enough warmth to reverse the chill that consumed her. 

But then Val leaned forward suddenly, his chest pressing against hers. One of his hands snuck around and found the back of her head, which he took hold of to pull her into his neck. She settled gladly, her forehead nuzzling needily. 

Her shoulders still shook and she couldn't quite feel her fingers. She was settling to accept that Val had just teased her to get inside.

Suddenly, something draped over her back, thick and soft, and radiating the heat she so badly craved. The air around her stilled and the room sounded subtly muffled. Val's hands never moved from her body, so she pulled away to inspect how he had accomplished all that.

She was stunned to find his wings secured around her, concealing them both inside. 

They brushed her face as she turned her head to get a better look. With the soft fuzz grazing her skin and tickling her cheek, her chills melted away, slowly but surely.

Y/n had never seen him use his wings like this. He usually reserved them for intimidation tactics and making himself bigger than he already was. But here he was, being gentle and comforting with them. With her. 

She met his eyes, his usual smug glint ever present, paired now with pride at his success.

Maybe she was drunker than she realized, or maybe that pill she had found at the bottom of her bag had been molly instead of an oxy like she'd thought. Either way, Val looked absolutely enticing. 

With his wings engaged, certain muscles she had never noticed before activated under his skin. His neck strained deliciously as his big hands grasped her sides. His jaw pulsed lightly, making a vein in his temple jump. Y/n reached up to trace it with her thumb, entranced.

Val leaned in close, a hand slithering up between his wings and settling over her back. 

“Damn, mami. You look at him with those eyes?” He chuckled. “No wonder you've got him so wrapped around your fingers.” He pressed her chest flush against his, speaking into her ear. “Show me what else you do with that little principe.”

Y/n paid no mind to that disgusting comment. Now really wasn't the time to confront the reality of that situation, not while Val was buried to the hilt inside her.

So she forcibly shoved aside her thoughts of Stolas and worked off her present arousal for Val instead.

Y/n kissed him, hot and hard. Her hips began moving slowly, grinding steadily on his length. She leaned into him, making him fall back against the couch with a groan, muffled by her lips on his. 

And Y/n gave him what he wanted, all of it manufactured on the spot. 

Getting him off was the easy part. It was pulling away without reawakening his need that was difficult. More often than not, Val was poised for another round immediately after finishing. Over the years, she had developed a kind of technique to help avoid this as best she could. It usually was just a combination of going still and silent, so as to not stimulate him any further.

So… maybe more of a trauma response than an avoidance technique in hindsight, but it worked in some cases.

Val caught on quickly, of course. He could always tell when she reached her limit. It was really more a matter of whether or not he had reached his. Some days he'd finish and send her on her way before calling in someone else to satiate him. Other days, he'd continue on, ignoring her cries and pleas to stop. He knew she'd quit fighting eventually. She always did. 

But today, as much as he would have loved to keep her hips planted on his, they both had business to attend to. 

With two hands on her waist and the other two taking her legs, Val lifted her off of him.

Y/n shuddered at the loss. 

He tossed her onto the couch beside him and she sprung up from it, the freezing leather biting at her bum sharply. She cursed Val under her breath as she reached for her shorts, tugging them on hurriedly. Not that it did her much good. The heat in her skin was already starting to dissipate, replaced with a deep set chill.

Val cleaned himself before tugging up and securing his pants back into place. Then he got up with a grunt, gave her a lingering, sloppy kiss, and walked over to his desk. 

“Siéntate, mami.”

She obeyed annoyedly, opting for sitting on the very edge of the seat.

“Do you have any idea how exhausting it is, being an overlord?”

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," she snapped quietly.

"Watch yourself," he warned, riled by the challenge.

Y/n backed down.

Val yanked open his desk, pulling out a small pink and transparent bottle, before slamming the drawer closed. He flicked the lid off the container and poured out its contents. Little red pills tumbled out into his palm and he popped, not one, but two into his mouth.

With a swallow, he pressed the lid back on and smoothly tossed the container to Y/n.

She caught it and inspected it. There was no label, just the letter “V” engraved in the plastic. The little pills clattered around inside noisily.

“You keep those. We're gonna need a fresh supply anyway.” 

She set them down on the file cabinet beside her. It's not like she really needed them anyway.

“How generous,” she said under her breath. Val continued on.

“You know how I'm constantly on edge, keeping an eye over my shoulder, watching out for potential usurpers.” He lit a cigarette, sitting atop his desk, his lower arms crossed. “You're lucky I'm here to do the job, so that you don't have to, huh mami?”

“What's this about, Val?”

He exhaled a large plume of smoke that lingered in the room between them.

“I'm thinking of taking on a business partner.” He paused, evaluating his words, then shrugged. “Or two. To help lighten the load around here.” 

Y/n was surprised to hear it. Val always seemed so keen on being the big man in charge. She couldn't see him sharing that power with anybody. 

“And you want me to, what? Seduce them?”

Val's head cocked in serious contemplation before he burst out laughing. 

“I like where your head is at, I really do. But no, not this time. This matter is a bit more delicate than that.” He took another puff. “I've met with some of the other Entertainment Overlords. They're interested but apparently, I need to prove that I'm a worthy investment beyond just sex and porn,” he growled indignantly. “I almost won that flat screened fool over in the first damn thirty minutes, but that little fuck-doll of a demon kept budding in with conditions and demands.”

Flat screened fool?

If Val was talking about who she thought he was, there was a chance things could be looking up for the old movie star. Y/n felt hope bloom in her chest, warming her from the inside out. Hope that Val was really talking about the new technological upstart responsible for Voxtek. Because if anyone could get her career back on track, it was that television demon. 

“So… I'll be acting again?” She asked optimistically.

Val laughed at her.

“Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Her heart dropped at his sarcasm. 

“No, for now, you just sit there and look pretty,” he mused before suddenly calling out, barking for someone to hurry up. He looked at her again, smiling.

Almost immediately, a surgical cart burst into the room, followed by Val's personal physician. 

Right. Business…

The pudgy demon clattered into the room, struggling to get the cart through the door. But when he did, he quickly wheeled it towards Y/n. He wasted no time prepping her to have her blood drawn, a red elastic wrapped tightly around her bicep, a swab of alcohol swiping over the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as another chill set in.

Val watched as he spoke, both fascinated and aroused.

“I figure, what's one addiction over the other? Sex, drugs? They sell at the same rate down here, anyway.” 

The pinch of the needle came without warning. 

With a sharp inhale, she instinctively looked to her arm and then the doctor. It wasn't the first time this doctor had poked her harshly or without notice. And with this session happening so soon after the last one, her arm was still bruised from the last insertion. Though he couldn't see it, thanks to her masterfully crafted illusion. And she was well aware of the stiffness that formed in his pants, too, each time he made her flinch. 

She had a nasty reprimand on her tongue, ready to strike at him with her words and with her hand. But she looked away again quickly, deciding not to give him, or Val, the satisfaction of a further reaction.

“I need a fresh batch. I can't be going in for a business exchange with stale inventory. That's not a good look.” Val snuffed out his cigarette.

“I didn't realize you felt so burdened by the responsibilities of being an overlord,” she began, trying to distract herself. “And going through all this trouble to impress them, this must be really important to you.”

“Yeah, well. All smooth sailing, after this deal…” he trailed off, eyes fixed on the blood bag hanging next to her, captivated by it slowly filling.

They fell into silence then. What was ditzed and dazed for him, was incredibly uncomfortable for her. The fingers of her free hand thumped against her thigh impatiently, anxiously, waiting for this to be over. 

Her high had begun to dissipate. Her skin was crawling with restlessness, her head throbbing unpleasantly. She contemplated taking one of the pills after all, wanting a heavier dose than what biting her cheek or tongue could provide her right now. But she resisted and settled for the latter, nibbling at the inside of her lip until she broke through skin. She swished the metallic flavor back and forth over the tip of her tongue before swallowing.

A few minutes later, the physician got up and removed the full blood bag from the IV stand. Val stood to take it from him. 

Y/n started gathering herself to leave, reaching for the tape securing the needle in her arm.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Val's taunting voice halted her movement. “We're gonna need more than just one bag.”

“But you took a bunch just last week-”

He shushed her. “I expect more orders to be coming in soon. We have to be prepared.” 

“Val, I really don't think-”

“That's enough.” 

Y/n knew better than to push him. Better to just give him what he wants and get this over quick.

So she leaned back against the couch despite how cold it made her, and waited until she was given the all clear.

The second and third bag went by, making her hands clammy and sweaty and even more terribly cold. 

It was rare that Val ever took four full bags, but today was one of those days. 

As they were rounding out the fourth, she shifted so as to pull herself out of her drowsiness, her eyes suddenly terribly hard to keep open. 

But as she sat up and scooted forward on the couch, her head reeled. 

Her ears twitched, trying to flick away the vertigo. To no avail. The room around her spun and she reached out aimlessly trying to steady herself. She only found the sofa beneath her.

The doctor changed out the bag for a fifth one.

Y/n’s vision went spotty.

“Don't you think you've had plenty?” She bit through her teeth.

She fought the fuzzies in her vision, blinking them away until she could see again. She was seized by another wave of chills.

Val moved silently, storing the latest bag in a mini-fridge with the others, before turning and moving back to sit. But instead of at his desk, like he had been before, he approached the couch and plopped himself down right next to her, lounging back.

She watched him the whole time, up until he took the seat beside her. His heat radiated off of him, luring Y/n closer. 

She rolled her eyes at him before trying to stand. One would think she'd have learned after all this time not to try something like that so soon after an extraction. But as her world spun in her vision and her stomach churned, she found herself grateful to have Val's warmth to fall into as opposed to the freezing leather couch again.

He tugged her up against his side, his arms keeping her pressed snuggly to him. 

Y/n's brain was foggy now, lack of blood making it hard for her to focus. Her heart was pounding in her chest and thundering in her ears, desperately trying to keep her conscious. Just like before, Val's body heat only did so much for her. She clung to him, gripping his shirt weakly, hoping to covet some of his warmth for herself.

There was no point. 

Her vision suddenly went black, and fear gripped at her blood starved mind. 

“Something isn-...” she swallowed thickly. “Somethings not right, Val.” 

He just shushed her gently.

She stirred one last time, a last ditch effort to stand up, get away, do anything but sit by and let this happen. 

Unconsciousness claimed her in an instant. Val pulled her back to him, placing his hands wherever he so pleased on her paled skin. 

She had six pints taken from her that evening. Two more than Val had ever taken before. 

Angel almost mutilated the demon who tossed her like a rag doll onto their doorstep. If he hadn't been preoccupied with hauling her near lifeless body off the floor, he surely would have ripped him to shreds.

Plenty of times Y/n had burst through the door, eyes half closed, nearly staggering to the floor. There were even times when she only made it as far as the doorstep, only having the strength left to knock weakly But never before had she been dropped off completely motionless. Or this cold. 

He laid her down on the bed quickly, pulling a blanket over her immediately. He took her freezing hands and held them tightly, subtly kneading them between his in hopes of returning some warmth to her.

He took note of the nasty bruise on her forearm, just before her elbow, a smear of dried blood at its center.

After a minute of no reaction from her, he had to remove himself before his emotions got the better of him.

He clamped down hard on the tears that tried to burn their way out of his throat. Angel stood from the bed, and with one final look to Y/n, made his way to the kitchen, intent on keeping himself busy.

He put a pot of water to boil while he prepared something to eat, though he couldn't bring himself to stomach anything more than a measly cracker.

When the water was ready, he poured out two mugs, topping them off with tea bags and a bit of honey. Just how Y/n liked it.

He made his way back to the bedside, placing the hot mugs on the nightstand.

And when he turned back to crawl in bed with her, he finally found her eyes on him. He sat down with a relieved breath.

“I made tea,” he started simply.

Her only response was a shivering sigh.

He slipped under the cover with her, letting her find her way into his arms. She did, weakly tugging him closer until their limbs were tangled under the blanket. He rested a hand in her hair.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

She shrugged.

Angel held her tighter.

“It's been a long time since you've come home like that.”

No response.

“It wasn't that prince, was it?” He hissed. He knew the obvious perpetrator was Val, but he was being sure to cover all the bases. 

She shook her head no, insistently.

He gave up his urge to keep questioning. 

They laid there in silence, Y/n shaking in his embrace. He waited and waited for her trembles to subside but they only seemed to get worse. 

At some point, Angel got up to get more covers for her. He handed her her mug as she sat up, and fetched the blankets from the chest at the foot of her bed, tossing them over her. Finally, he grabbed his almost empty mug, gave her a loving pat between her ears, and went back into the kitchen.

He checked his phone and sighed at the time. He had work soon, and was dreading the thought of leaving Y/n alone in her state. He knew that technically nothing would happen to her, not being able to double-die and all. But paranoia blossomed in the back of his mind, scared that Val might come take her while he was gone. 

He left the mug by the sink and went back to the bed, sitting on its edge.

Y/n watched him, waiting for him to lay back down with her. And when he didn't, she nudged him with her foot. He placed his hand on her ankle and gave her a couple of quick, playful squeezes in reassurance.

“I got work,” he said, deflated.

Y/n made a noise of acknowledgement, something between a hum and a groan. Then she sat up, pulled one of the blankets around her shoulders, and shuffled forward on the bed towards him. 

“I'm going to miss you.”

“I'm not going.”

He surprised himself just as much as he did her.

“But…Val-” 

“Fuck Val. I'm not going.” It came out rushed, half trying to convince himself. “I'm staying here, with you.”

Y/n took a second to figure out what to say. She understood how he felt. Everyday she woke up and wished she could just go back to sleep and ignore her responsibilities. And the days that she did, her body would itch and ache, contract-bound soul fighting the confines of flesh to serve and fulfill her duties to Val. It was a terrible restlessness that, if left unchecked, easily turned psychologically torturous. She'd hate for Angel to have to suffer that for her.

“I understand that I've worried you, baby. But I'll be okay.” She reached up, fixing his hair. 

With her arm right in front of his face, he noted the absence of discoloration where there had been previously. Her skin was back to its normal tone, no hint of injury to be seen. 

Angel sighed and took her arm, pulling it down into his lap. He fiddled with her fingers for a second before running the flat of his hand over her palm and up her forearm. Y/n all but confirmed that she was hiding her injury from him. The further he got, the more she stiffened, nearly pulling away when he approached the crook of her arm. He stopped before he fully got there, letting his hand rest just below the concealed bruise.

“I know you will, sugar. But I'm still stayin’.”

He motioned back to the bed behind them before standing. With a knee on the mattress, he pulled back the covers, letting Y/n climb in, him following suit. He adjusted the blankets around them, tucking them in tightly. 

Y/n fell asleep quickly as Angel held her happily. 

Though, when she woke again, she was alone in bed, the apartment dark and empty besides her. A small note on the bedside table read ‘I had to go…A.’

She exhaled sadly, and went back to sleep, hoping that when she woke again, Angel would be back by her side.

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

Previous < Chapter 6 > Next

A/N: im a liiiittleee nervy abt releasing a chapt this long bc its hard to keep track of everything going on, blah... hope its not too terribly disorganized! :)

[sapphic-schizo]

liberals when western men travel to thailand to rape underage prostitutes: yaaaasss supporting sex workers!!!! helping those girlbosses get their cash flow monaaaay we stan a feminist king 😍😍😍😍😍😍

liberals when a white woman from new england marries a white man from the south: this old money she-devil has surely seduced this poor, uneducated hick for her evil purposes. he knows not what she has in store for him. she feasts off the despair that rises from the long-buried bones of the bayou. almost like a vampire, one could say 🤔

[silvergolddraco28]

King of Shadows- open roleplay- shadowpeach

OG Wukong and Macaque get sent to a Role Swapped Universe while battling a minor demon with a taste for forbidden spells.

()()()()()

Golden eyes slowly opened, a throbbing headache echoing in the owner’s head and body as they sat up. “Ow… why the hell am I in Macaque’s dojo?” the golden monkey muttered in confusion before the last events flashed through his brain and he let out a long stream of curses getting to his feet and letting a wave of golden magic cover his form. It was a simple spell to hide his minor cuts, small tears in his clothes, and the golden blood he was not going to explain to random strangers. He then cast a secondary spell that would render anyone unable to notice him unless they were already intuned to his magic aka Mk and his group. ‘You’d think letting Mk have a week off to get therapy would give Mac and me time to just get into the flow of things again but no the first demon we encounter uses forbidden spells and then sends us spiraling through an unknown portal.’ the golden monkey thought before swiftly booking it out of the dojo and up into the rooftops of the city scanning for anything that was a large tip-off to what was going on. He saw the date on one of the homographs screens and mentally cursed. ‘Okay, I got dumped at some point before Spider Princess shows up. Just great. Just my monkey luck cashing in again. This is going to end up in some sort of fight. At least I know when and where I am, small miracles Wukong.’ The golden monkey, Wukong, mentally went over in his head and he ran easily jumping and flipping over the rooftops with the ease of a seasoned acrobat.

Wukong came to a stop hearing a familiar sound before the scent of pears mixed with paper and noodles wafted to his sensitive nose. “Shouldnt you be at home right now Kid?” Wukong asked aloud turning to face the teenager only to be met with an angered Mk wearing a plum purple jacket and dark pants instead of his usual orange jacket and red pants. ‘This is a red flag… Mk doesn't own anything that is majorly purple.’

“What are you doing back here Wukong? Come to try and convince me to be your student again? Well, hard pass!” Mk sneered before attacked the golden monkey.

“Hey wait- damn it Kid!” Wukong easily dodged the strickes he did not teach Mk. ‘Those strikes are similar to Mac’s style.’ Wukong thought falling into a familiar groove of dodging the staff until he finally caught the staff. “Will you stop trying to hit me and listen for a minute Xiaotain?!” Wukong snapped using the teen’s birth name to snap him out of the anger.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Mk shouted yanking the staff out of Wukong’s grip and sending a wave of purple magic at the monkey.

Wukong braced bringing his arms up as the wave passed him but caused his many spells layering his body to shatter in a flash of gold. Crystalized golden irises set in demonic red sclera looking at the teen in shock, golden blood trailing down the golden monkey’s light cuts along his arms and left side, his normal attire messed up with tears and slight burns, shocks of icy blue and white colored fur broke up the golden fur like small veins while a thick golden crown rested snuggly on the golden monkey’s forehead worn with age and battles long forgotten by time. The teen gapped at the golden monkey in stunned stupidor. “That…. That was just supposed to knock you away… not… not do what ever it just did.”

Wukong didn't have time to process what the kid was saying before a wave of dizziness crashed into him his ears ringing while his vision became spotty before he blacked out.

()()()()()

Crystallized demonic red sclera with molten gold eyes cracked open seeing familiar stonework glowing with faint purple runes before the owner of the crystal eyes shot up hissing in minor pain from the many cuts that had been cleaned while something thick was around his throat. ‘A collar?!?’ Wukong thought as he looked to see he had been changed into a dark pair of pants and a dark purple silk sash around his waist.

“Well, this is just humiliating.” Wukong frowned as he got off the cot and examined the doors and walls. “Magically resistant… but not impervious,” Wukong noted as he pulled his fist back and punched the door sending it off its hinges with a small smirk on his lips.

‘Someone didn't take into account my natural strength and underestimated me.’ Wukong thought as he looked about for a way out and proper clothes or at least a shirt to cover his top. “Why did i let myself get so fat to begin with?” Wukong muttered lowly idly poking at his chubby sides and stomach self-consciously. Compared to mortals he looked to have a ‘dad bod’ from what he had over heard Mei and Mk comment the one time they saw him shirtless. He shoved those thoughts aside as he made his way to the staircase and began to climb the stairs straining his natural senses for anything hint of Macaque. ‘Where are you Mihou?’ Wukong thought picking up speed wincing slightly as his bare feet touched the cold stone stairs. ‘Damn it. Why are the burns acting up now!?’

The Golden monkey reached the landing of the new floor picking up a faint tickle of shadow magic down the hall. ‘There!’ Wukong steadily made his way down the hall coming to the last door at the very end of the corridor. He grabbed the handle and easily twisted the metal to break the internal lock pushing open the door to a pitch-black room that made his fur stand straight on the back of his neck. “Moon?” Wukong cautiously called before helping as a cold and rubbery mass wrapped around his ankles pulling him inside as more of the mass immobilized his limbs.

“Well well well~ you're definitely not Shihou, far too strong to be him.” a familiar yet slightly darker voice spoke from the pitch-black darkness. “Just who are you?”

[fukuokadivision1]

Hang out! (MIHANASA & Kiya Kara Ver.)

Bring the Beat!

[Sanyu:]

In the heart of Fukuoka, where the lights dim low

We're the voice of the slums, where the strong currents flow

Life's tough, it's rough, in these streets we roam

But together we stand, in this place we call home

By day, I'm the star, in the Freaks Circus ring

Twisting and turning, I make the crowd sing

As MC Rogue, my rhymes take flight

In the ring or the streets, I'm the beacon of light

[Tasuku:]

At the tables I stand, cards in hand, dealin' fate

Watchin' the arrogant lose, oh man, it feels great

Their faces drop as their fortunes flop, cash in my stash

I'm the king of the game, their pride, just ash

[Ming:]

Miss Ming, they call me, in the classroom I stand

Guiding the young ones, with a gentle hand

Their eyes alight with each lesson they claim

In their smiles, I find my fame

[Ryūzō:]

From the shadows I emerged, a blade in the night

A heart of ice, a soul out of sight

Sendai's light thawed the assassin's chill

Now a professor's voice, with a will to instill

In each lesson taught, in every student's gaze

I honor the lost, through the city's maze

For those I've mourned, for the peace I've found

I rap, I teach, in their memory, I'm bound

[Takumi:]

In the gym where dreams are built, I stand

GUTS on the mic, with a shinai in hand

Igniting the "Power of Youth" with every command

I'll train them to triumph, 'til success is at hand

[Kotono:]

A healer at heart, in a classroom confined

Teaching's a duty, not a real passion of mine

Yet I'll guide these young minds, 'til my quest is through

For my sister's sake, to this path I'll stay true

[All:]

Let loose and pa-pa-pa-pa-party

Rhymes can also be overnight mo-mo-mo-mo-money

Tomorrow I’ll do fine with the words I use tomorrow, when I think about that, today seems a bit funny

Luck and misfortune are like that day’s special

Unable to have our way we just gotta go where the wind takes us

What’s your reason to not give in n-n-n-n-now?

Exhale and keep on living, I got it!

Let’s forget the rapidly changing days and have a rest day

For today let’s have fun with these mics!

I got it!

[ingek73]

I thought I knew royal greed – but King Charles profiting from the assets of the dead is a disgusting new low

For decades, parliament has been far too lenient about the royal family’s finances. This avaricious practice needs to end

Norman Baker Fri 24 Nov 2023 13.08 CET

Over the centuries, the royals have continually bleated poverty and demanded more money from the taxpayer.’ Photograph: Reuters

As a royal author, I have come across plentiful examples of royal greed. It is standard practice for the royals to seek to minimise their personal expenditure while maximising their income from other sources, normally the public purse.

But the revelation that King Charles III’s personal slush fund, the Duchy of Lancaster, is having its already bulging coffers augmented by the estates of people who die in parts of England with historical links to the royal estate plumbs new depths of disgusting avarice.

Like many so-called traditions, the feudal hangover that is bona vacantia should have been consigned to the dustbin of history centuries ago, but it has been all too tempting for successive royals to preserve this royal fruit machine that pays out again and again. Over the past 10 years, it has collected more than £60m in the funds.

Under this system, the Duchy of Cornwall, owned by Prince William, can claim the assets of people who die in Cornwall intestate – without a will – if no relatives can be found. Charles’s Duchy of Lancaster does the same when their last known residence is within what was historically known as Lancashire county palatine.

Edward VIII found cash from those who died intestate in the boundaries of the duchy was sitting in an account in case claims arose against it. He simply stole a million pounds from it, leaving almost nothing in that kitty.

George VI did very well out of the loyal servicemen who died serving their country in the second world war, who originated from within the confines of the duchy and had no will. “For king and country” took on a whole new meaning.

As disquiet about the practice of bona vacantia grew after the war, the royals announced that moneys collected would henceforth be given to charity – after processing costs had been deducted, of course. In the case of the Duchy of Lancaster, this came to about 4% compared to 15% for the Duchy of Cornwall.

Yet a Guardian investigation now reveals that matters are even worse than we have been led to believe. Put bluntly, we have been lied to. Monies we all thought were going to charity have instead been used to improve properties owned by the duchy, increasing the income stream that flows from them into Charles’s pockets.

We have the most expensive monarchy in Europe by far in terms of state support, and one that benefits from unique tax treatment available to nobody else. No inheritance tax is paid. The so-called private estates of the duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster are not private enough to pay corporation tax or capital gains tax. Even income tax is only paid voluntarily – if it all – no receipts have ever been made public.

The civil list, which in 2011 gave the royals £7.9m a year, was replaced, after palace lobbying, with the sovereign grant, which 12 years later is up to £86m a year. Over the centuries, the royals have continually bleated poverty and demanded more money from the taxpayer, while at the same time refusing point blank to reveal the extent of their accumulated wealth.

They even refused to provide this information to the last government that seriously tried to dig into this – the Labour government of the mid-1970s, with the then home secretary Roy Jenkins pursuing the matter.

Back in Queen Victoria’s reign, the government was told she was desperately short of cash to undertake her duties so a big uplift was provided. She was not short of cash, and the money provided by the then government was instead used to buy Sandringham and Balmoral. I recognise that behaviour from my time in parliament. It’s called fiddling your expenses.

My calculations suggest that the king is worth as much as £2bn and probably more. The bulk of this has come from excessive generosity on behalf of the taxpayer, either through direct handouts or indirectly through unique tax exemptions. But antiquated and indefensible arrangements such as bona vacantia have played their part too.

Parliament, which over the decades has been far too deferential, far too trusting, far too easy going, needs to get a grip. The disgusting existence of royal windfalls from dead people should be ended forthwith. The duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster should be transferred immediately to the publicly owned crown estate; they only escaped from being transferred along with other royal lands in 1760 because they were then deemed worthless. Plainly, this is no longer the case. The public accounts committee should begin a thorough investigation into the funding and wealth of the royals.

Monarchists should worry. Opening the doors on royal finances and practices will reveal a terrible stench.

in regards to:

[saturnine-saturneight]

OC origins name tag!

Hopping on an open tag by @paeliae-occasionally!

I want to know how you came up with your original character’s names and personalities. Are they based on people in your real life? Are they straight from your brain? Are they a mix of several people?

I've put a lot of thought into this, and made some more adjustments yesterday, so I'm excited to talk about it, haha.

Nat: Full name Natalie King

I was playing around with names that could mean 'born under a bad star' for them, but landed on Natalie, which means born on Jesus' birthday aka Christmas. Nat grew up Christian and has a bizarre relationship with it - this isn't even their legal name, they picked this out themself.

It's also nice that it starts with an N. Nat is themed after one of the seven wonders of the antique world, the hanging gardens of Babylon, built by Nebuchadnezzar II. King follows from this as well, plus lends itself well to their general character.

Ron: Full name Aarón Odo

Meaning 'high mountain' or 'exalted', playing into a very vague sky theme. In the bible, Aaron's rod produced miracles, a nod to Ron's street magic. The accent is on there because he's Afro-Brazilian. I also think the name Ron has kind of a mischievous, youthful vibe.

Jeanne Odo was a Haitian abolitionist. Ron doesn't consider himself someone who can make any kind of change, but he has his opinions.

Haru: Full name Luo Haru / Luó Guāng Fèng

Haru is of mixed Japanese and Chinese descent, so she has two names. Like the majority of Chinese people, she goes by her non-Chinese name in non-Chinese company because nobody can pronounce the other one right and she'd rather not hear it butchered.

Haru can mean spring, but also sun, playing into how she gets underestimated frequently by her looks and her height. She has a sun/fire theme going, which is also reflected in her chinese name (which my beta reader helped me massively with and which I have yet to run by someone fluent in Chinese to tell me if it sounds good, if this is you please hmu.) It uses the characters 光 (Guāng) meaning light, polish, shine, and one part of the word for 鳳凰 (Fènghuáng) for phoenix.

It's a very, very pompous name, given to her by her father with high hopes for her life.

There's not a lot to be said about Luó in contrast, it's just one of the most frequent family names in China.

Teo: Full name Mateo Aparecido

Teo used to have an accent on the e, but the Spanish version of his name doesn't actually have it, so he's lost his accent privileges.

From Matthaios, a Hebrew name meaning gift of God. I was looking for something meaning 'gift of the sea', but this is close enough. That's also why I abbreviate it to just 'gift'.

Aparecido, to manifest oneself, is one of the more common family names in Brazil. Teo is moon/water themed and I was playing with the idea of making his last name Rana (frog), but Aparecido flows better with his first name.

Matcha: Full name Malati Gupta

Matcha Ginny is a cover name she's given herself to obscure her identity, which is also close enough to her legal name to not get her confused.

Malati means Jasmine, which is also a kind of tea :)

Gupta means protector or guardian, a good motif for her character and aspirations. It's frequent among Brahmin, who have the cash to emigrate into the United States.

Rabbit: Full name Lydia Dotson

Rabbit is called Rabbit in the narrative because it's from Ron's and Nat's perspective. It's a mean nickname about her big front teeth and general prey animal demeanor that's just stuck around.

I picked out Lydia for the first letter it shares with Lepus, the latin name for the family of hares.

Dodgson was the legal name of Lewis Carroll, author of Alice in Wonderland. I'm afraid she can't escape it, she's rabbit/hare themed.

Louis: Full name Dr. Louis Bishop

Louis/Ludwig is a name frequently given to kings meaning 'famous in battle'. I needed something authoritative for him, something belligerent. He's a very gentle man on the surface, so the name needed some weight. The same goes for Bishop - I picked out a Christian authority figure here as a nod to Nat.

This also reflects that he really doesn't get a lot of characterization outside of Nat and how much he inhabits his antagonist role in the story. He likes bees, but he's s not getting named after what he likes.

I'm making this an open tag!

[theinconvenientlifestyle]

Private schools were handed more than £157m in government-subsidised loans during the pandemic, under a scheme that barred state schools from applying, openDemocracy can reveal.

Elite institutions that benefited include Charterhouse, the former school of chancellor Jeremy Hunt, which charges up to £44,000 a year per pupil.

It received a £5m Covid support loan to help with “any short-term cash flow issues” – despite declaring total income of almost £45m for 2020–21, the financial year in which it claimed the loan.

The King’s former school, Gordonstoun, was also given a £2m taxpayer-subsidised loan, which it said would act as a “buffer” during the pandemic for its plan to build a new state-of-the-art classroom hub on its campus in the Scottish countryside.

And a private performing arts college in Liverpool, co-owned by pop star Robbie Williams and former Tesco boss Sir Terry Leahy, was given a loan worth £2.5m. That loan alone cost taxpayers over £350,000 in fees and interest.

Many loans went to the former private schools of government ministers. State schools were specifically excluded from applying....