#i Can cover it. like my job is good enough that i can cover it. but it really doesnt leave much extra for me lmao

[thatbitchery]

Personal finance is tied mostly to your systems as a person. You could make 6 figures a year and still be broke and in debt or you could make 20k a year and be on your way to financial freedom.I have finally achieved financial freedom, and no I do not make super much, depending on who you compare me to. Mostly it's my financial and personal habits that keep me going.

I do not consider fancy a marker of a good life, as a matter of fact I do not understand it. What do you mean a MEAL costs 1000 its never that serious please. I don't consider Givenchy to be any more elevated than what my tailor can make me for 100$. Fancy is not important to me so when I was building my one year emergency fund I did not consider fancy part of the budget. I do not try to purchase status.

And I can not stress this enough- taking risks with my money. Buying a vending machine is one of the best decisions I made this year. Buying a business, as risky as that was, turned out to be great. I have lost money, too. Like a lot. I bought stocks in a startup that crashed and lost a pretty little buck. I dipped into the VR business not too long ago and that tanked. It is not about making the right decisions- with money that is almost never possible. Its about taking risks.

My end goal is not a career its the money. Meaning? I have worked jobs odd and unclassy and not so fun. I have packaged fish at some point- hated it. I have worked as a cashier once. As the personal assistant to some pig that was always trying to get their hand up my skirt. I have done real estate. Currently doing event (wedding) Planning for my girl. I did forex, once. I have been paid to go as someone's date to some event. I am not picky with my jobs because the job is not the end goal, the money is. The goal is to retire by 30 and I will do whatever it takes to get up there. It's the getting paid part that matters the most to me.

Learning to leverage my skills and the situation plus to recognize the opportunities when they show up. My girl's last organizer canceled last minute and I offered to take it if she tops the fee up because I love her but not THAT much. In the process I have met so many people in this place and making connections in a new country will never be a bad idea. I have zero to none skills in event planning but all i hear is compliments (Pinterest the things I'd do for you) and I can add event planning to the options my future self has for careers especially given the profile of this one. A lady at church was divorced and man left her with a mortgage and a financial crisis (your daily reminder marrying rich isn't all that) and i drew up a contract to cover her mortgage and kid's education in exchange of a piece of her estate plus slowly easing my way into becoming her financial go to person and asset manager. A bargain, seriously, and I've passed it through enough lawyers to know my fancy little mortgage note will make me very very happy in a few years. Leveraging my mentorship skills to work my way into society because the way to anyone's heart is their children. Its free on paper but is it really? These are the next CEOs and I'm building my space this early. Leveraging my relationships for more relationships. Opportunities are not given they are created. 

THIS. ESPECIALLY THIS - having a value system. Knowing what is important to me and what isn't. Being a part of high society is NOT important to me so why would i buy a gala ticket the same price as my rent? Buying brands to keep up a rich girl aesthetic? Winters in Gstaad although I despise snow? Being part of high society isn't something I value at all so I don't play social games I'll just go home. Yes I'll maintain my relationships but everyone that is everyone knows it is not a race I fancy (Which, weirdly enough, has made it very easy for me to navigate it). Like I said, fancy things are not important to me so apart from an Aston Martin I don't care about the price I care about the quality. I will be at a thrift store I really don't mind. My peace is very important to me so I'll pick the fancy overpriced library fees over other libraries and I will pay a ridiculous amount in rent for an apartment in the peaceful part of town and I will splurge on a fancy cafe because I know the price range itself buys me peace. Ramit Sethi (In his book I Will Teach You To Be Rich) gives this as the core point of getting wealthy, knowing your value system. What is important to you? What isn't? If you're not for something you're for everything. 

Minimizing responsibilities. I don't have kids and I don't intend to. I don't stupidly commit to things without thinking real real hard about them. I didn't buy things that require me to keep up with paperwork, I don't take on things I need to track. My greatest responsibility in life is my three cats. 

[enby-ralsei]

you have activated my trap card (worldbuilding and extensive headcanons in bizlys world)

First, about Mr. Extraordinary Lougferd. He is a sort of Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Elon Musk sort of man in my head. He is a millionaire, and he can use that money to fund whatever he wants. He can use that money to fund bills that work in his favor. Laws that will require his inventions, laws that deregulate production, laws that keep people quiet. And this sort of person very likely doesn't see children as people, but as property. Troy is not a son, he's an heir. He must be fit enough to take over the company, the clockwork soldiers, when his father retires from public view. And for that, he must be smart and able to engineer upgrades for these soldiers. Or at least a good enough leader to have others do so for him. And he has neither of these qualities at the moment, which makes his father well and truly upset. He is 25 and neither a mechanical wiz nor a up-and-coming business leader. He is a disappointment and not what Mr. Lougferd wanted, which he made abundantly clear. Troy is not quite banned from the Lougferd estate, but knows that he will be questioned and grilled upon arrival as to if he has somehow become a miracle-child overnight.

The Overseer simply oversees the Wondrous Trade Company. This is a segment of the government that publicly deals with trade deals, especially that of food trades. Privately, of course, it is much different. There are so many above him because he's not the whole government of wonder. this is one branch, one department, and he probably isn't even be the top of that branch. He could easily be the one that oversees the Inventor project.

as for the guards being chill with rat and owl folk, they were heavily covered with scarves, so they probably could barely see any defining features that would make them recognizable, especially in Runt's case because her ears are easily hidden in a hood/hat. And for the general populace, I'm gonna base it off of my reaction if i, personally, were to see an owl-human hybrid. Which is confusion, and then acceptance. If you have ever seen the walrus/fairy at your doorstep debate, very similar to that. Fairies are real? okay, slightly jarring, but I will change my worldview accordingly.

I have more (eventually) but I need to go to class </3

wonderlust took a while to really pull me in but now. what is with the weird sociopolitical climate of this world. "The Overseer" is a big menacing final boss sounding title but according to pinch there are dozens of people above him. why is there a thick fog blocking off the island from the rest of the world. people in wonder arent meant to know about reclaim but all of the overseer's guards were completely chill with rat and bird people. WHY are there animal people living under this random ass island where did they come from. where did the humans come from. why does bizly keep randomly mentioning troys dad but keep going "but theres a lot to unpack there so you dont want to visit just yet". why did the overseer take one look at blink and immediately fall head over heels for Owl Man. is runt about to die

[oacest]

Hi I would like to delve deeper into the oasis lore and was wondering if you have any book recs ?

I read that the supersonic book (containing all the interviews from the doc) is quiet extensive, and obvi from the sources themselves, but maybe you have other Recs that you found interesting?

we were delighted to get this ask, bc yes yes YES we DO have loads of opinions on the oasis books! Be aware that most of these cover sort of the same time period (my spirit mourns for an in-depth book dealing with the mid-to-late aughts). Presumably every publishing house in the UK circa 1996 was offering book deals to randos if they heard the name "Oasis", but these are the best ones (there are, if you can believe it, many more):

The Supersonic interviews are a definite rec -- they're exhaustive, cover way more than the doc suggests, and feature a lot more voices too. The editing job is astounding. Definitely be aware while reading that the interviews were conducted in 2015; with Oasis especially, facts and feelings change depending on time, mood, the wind, whether one is hungover, etc

Brothers from childhood to Oasis by Paul Gallagher. If one never reads any other book on Oasis, they should read this. In fact, no one is permitted to have an opinion on Noel or Liam without having read it. Paul has his blindspots, as one would expect with any sibling, but he also ofc knows his brothers and what makes them tick in a way no one else on the planet does, so!

Oasis: what's the story? by Ian Robertson. This one is somewhat controversial; the author was a bodyguard/security coordinator for Oasis and people understandably have opinions on that. Imo he's a good enough writer that he has a very clear authorial voice and perspective, which makes any worry about being fed lies moot so long as one has a brain. I appreciate he also takes some artistic risks in this book. Also, regardless of his flaws as a man or employee lol, he has a keen, at times painfully empathetic read on Liam specifically. iirc he was the only person who wrote about Oasis in those early years who had a front row seat to Liam's voice/throat problems, which lends a somewhat Cassandraic air to the whole book.......

Getting high: the adventures of Oasis by Paolo Hewitt. Oh, Paolo. What can we say. You have to read this one because it covers so much ground, just be aware it's badly written and the author is quite biased towards Noel. (I say this as a Noelist myself)

Was There Then: A Photographic Journey by Jill Furmanovsky. This is a photography book (and a fucking beautiful one) but it also has a TON of text background. Critically, it offers a perspective on the band/brothers missing from all the rest in this list -- that is, the view and impressions of two women who worked closely with the band (Jill herself and Daniela Soave, a music journalist)

Oasis, definitely by Tim Abbot. This one had a lot of personality and abbot was a creation guy so he knew the band pretty well.

Take Me There: Oasis' Story by Paul Mathur. Mathur was a Melody Maker journalist who followed them around in the early years. He had a pretty fair take on them.

The Truth: my life as Oasis's drummer by Tony McCarroll. So, obviously Tony hates Noel, like. A lot. You have to approach this book like you're giving a hostile witness a cross examination lol but THAT SAID, he does cover stuff missing from other books like pre-deal Oasis.

[sanemislittledemon]

Kyojuro x insecure!reader

cw: body image issues, reader insecure over her belly, suggestive in the beginning 

an: hey everyone! I know this one is super short but I wanted to do something that wasn’t Sanemi for a change lol if anyone has requests please send them to me! I need ideas (also know that this is a safe space) T^T

“Oh fuck Kyo”

Kyojuro kisses down Y/Ns neck to her chest, his slightly rough hands coming up to massage her full breasts. He sighs softly at the feeling of her flesh molding in his hands.

He flicked a nipple with his tongue to hear her sweet voice that makes him even more excited. He took the now hard bud into his mouth and gave it a soft suck. Her voices were making a fire burn in him. Kyojuro pulled off with a wet pop “beautiful” he praised as his eyes took in her flushed body.

He leaned forward and licked a line from between her breasts down to her rounded belly. Y/N tensed for a moment but quickly forced herself to relax until she felt Kyojuros hands start to fondle her.

Kyojuros hands moved along her sides and started softly grabbing her belly while leaving kisses everywhere his hands touched. Y/N knew that it should feel good but she felt like she could vomit.

Y/N felt her heart start racing and tears welling up in her vision. Her hands flew up to cover her eyes as her body began to shake, her actions stopping Kyojuro in his tracks. The man immediately pulled away from what he was doing with a stunned expression. “Darling! Have I hurt you somehow?”

Kyojuro did the only thing he could think of in that moment and quickly grab his discarded haori, pulling the shaking woman into his arms and throwing it over her naked form. The man rocked her back and forth as she cried into his chest.

Y/N gradually stopped shaking and pulled her head back from Kyojuro “I-I’m sorry” she whispered

Kyojuro just held her to him tighter “darling please don’t apologize for me hurting you” he replied with a hint of desperation in his voice

“My darling, could you tell me what happened so I could avoid harming you again”

Y/N looked down at her hands as he spoke “y-you didn’t hurt me Kyojuro. I’m okay” she deflected but Kyojuro wasn’t letting her off that easy

He brought a hand up to run through her tangled hair and placed a sweet kiss to the top of her head “darling, you are not okay. You were shaking and I hate that I am the one that made you that way”

“my job is to care for you and I can’t do that properly if you don’t talk to me”

Y/N fisted her hands in the haori wrapped around her, tears threatening to fall again. “I-I was scared when you started touching my stomach” she whispers in a weak voice that Kyojuro could barely hear

Kyojuros eyes widened in shock, scared because of him touching there? What did she mean? He’s already loved her soft skin of her belly, the way it squished in his hands when he grabbed it to fucked into her or the way it moved as she rode him. He loved all of her.

Kyojuro was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of her voice again “I can usually act like I’m okay but today was just too much” she started as tears fell “the truth is I’m not used to people touching or even seeing it” she let out a sob that broke Kyojuro

Kyojuro was stunned at her words, act like she’s okay? Has she been feeling this way the whole time?

The man held her tightly to his chest and started to rock her again, he tried to calm his own nerves while she was crying in his arms.

“I’m going to speak okay?”

She nodded

“Darling, I love you and your body. Forgive me for not showing it enough”

“you are perfect in every way to me. It hurts that you think so lowly of yourself”

“I only do those things because I love your body. I want to hold you and give you my love”

Kyojuro placed a lingering kiss to the top of her head “I’m sorry I made you feel this way”

Y/N listened to every word he said and the more he spoke the tears stopped falling. He likes my body? My belly? Me?

She pulled back slowly from him to wipe her tears stained cheeks “you really know how to make me feel things, don’t you Kyo?”

Kyojuro smiled reassuringly at her “good things or bad things?” He asked

“Good things”

Kyojuro put their foreheads together “you need to know how much you mean to me” his words make Y/N smile and grip his haori tighter to her chest “I’m starting to realize it” he replies

Kyojuro places a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back completely. He moved her so that she was laying down on her side and Kyojuro moved in behind her to pull the woman’s back to his chest.

“Kyo? What are you doing?”

“Sleep my darling”

“But we were in the middle of something”

“I’m not going to fuck you after a panic attack. Just let me hold you for now”

Kyojuro gripped her tight and she finally gave up. Y/N sighed and lays her head down on the pillow, feeling the warmth coming off the man she loves so deeply, the man that also loves her.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ jiwoong x afab!reader

synopsis ✭ jiwoong is tired after his busy schedule, but at least he has a warm bed to come home to.

genre/rating ✭ smut

word count ✭ 0.7k

notes ✭ i originally wrote this for heesung, but it got like 200 notes and they were all likes and that really got on my nerves 😭 so please reblog or comment 🫠 it really means a lot

warnings ✭ smut, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, orgasm (m)

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

If Jiwoong was being completely honest with himself, his job was incredibly exhausting. Countless hours of being on his feet going back and forth from schedule to schedule could be a lot to handle sometimes. And it used to be the case where he would return to his dorm and drown himself in mindless activities to wind down. Never anything of substance and always just for the sake of mind-numbing entertainment. 

But after you’d started dating, you often offered for him to come over to your place when he was done with his schedules. You knew it would be a healthier way for him to unwind. It was only 2 months after you’d started sleeping together that you’d given him a house key.

And you’d told him as you gave him the key that he was free to slip into your bed whenever he wanted. 

He’d smiled, “Ok baby,” and he pecked you on the lips.

You shook your head. He didn’t get it. “No…I mean…” you ran a hand down his chest, “You can do whatever you want with me…even if I’m already asleep.”

His eyes had widened, “Fucking hell…” he groaned, “Are you sure?”

You reassured him multiple times over the course of a couple weeks, too. He’d brought it up a couple more times for clarification and specifics. And every time you’d reassure him that you trusted him and remind him that you wanted this too. 

And tonight he was feeling the mental fatigue extra hard. His feet hurt and his brain just wanted to shut off completely. When he quietly slipped into your bedroom he was greeted by the wonderful sight of you curled up in your bed in just a pair of underwear and a loose fitting tank top that did very little to actually cover any of your chest.

He changed quickly before slipping into bed behind you, watching as your shoulders rose and fell with your even breaths. The lace top you wore was loose around your waist, so he easily slid a hand under it and caressed the skin. And was perfectly content with this. Just running his fingers over your skin. Watching as goosebumps formed at his touch. 

But when you leaned back into him, grinding your ass into him, he froze. Sure you had given him explicit permission, but it just felt so…wrong. But that honestly just made him harder, and just the sight of you so helpless and unaware was enough for him to forget about all of his hesitations.

When he pulled your panties aside, you were already so fucking wet. He smirked, running his fingers through your folds, “Baby had some fun without me,” he whispered.

His patience was barely holding on, though. He slipped his cock into you. Slowly sliding himself in until he bottomed out. His thrusts were so so slow. Pushing himself in carefully and pulling out so he could drag his cock along your walls. 

You were still fully asleep, letting out little hums and moans. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were dreaming of him. Dreaming of his cock deep in your pussy and his mouth covering your chest in marks. 

He wondered if he could make you cum like this. Make you cum in your sleep. But that didn’t really matter at this point. Because he was getting closer and closer with every movement he made. He buried his face in your neck, deeply inhaling and groaning at how good you smelt. 

“Shit–” he groaned lowly into your neck. He pushed himself fully into you one more time before he came. Making sure that he filled you up completely. When he finally finished cumming, he didn’t pull out. Instead, he stayed inside you. Feeling your pulsing pussy around his incredibly sensitive cock. 

You started to shift and your eyelids started fluttering, so he ran a hand over your hair and coaxed you back to sleep. “Shh…shh baby. I’ll take care of you,” he was never getting over this, “Go back to sleep.”

[rooksspite]

Marks of Love

Davrin x f!Rook (unnamed)

summary: after a night of too many drinks, Davrin finds Assan covered in kisses.

yes this is based off of that one meme of that girl who came home drunk and was really excited to see her cat

Davrin wakes one day with a headache and little recollection as to how he ended up in bed.

He remembers Lucanis inviting him and Rook to talk about old jobs again over a shared bottle. or 3. Honestly it could’ve been more he just couldn’t remember. After that it’s all a blur. He’s surprised he made it to bed in the first place.

With a groan he stands from his bed, wincing as he faces the open brightness of the fade. Moving sluggishly to throw on a shirt and pants before yawning and making his way to open the door of his room.

“Assan,” he calls out to the griffin sitting his usual spot. The wooden stairs creaking under his steps.

When Assan turns his head to look at him, it makes Davrin pause midstep, “what in the…”

There were specks of red dotted across Assan’s face, two on his beak, a couple on the sides of his face, even more across his forehead and the top of his head.

Davrin steps closer to get a closer look at the griffin’s face, “what happened to you buddy?” he asks softly, still struggling to fight off the last remnants of sleep. He had a number of ideas of what the marks could be, maybe the griffin snuck into the pantry to snack on berries again, or maybe he got into Emmrich’s inks.

Assan squawks as Davrin squats down to take his face in his hands, his eyes widening in realization. The spots were a very similar shade of berry red, in the shape of lips he’s grown to know all too well.

Davrin huffs out a laugh and hangs his head, “someone got some love last night.” Davrin muses, Assan only replies with a happy noise and a flap of his wings.

“Davrin,” he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up and sure enough there she is, just leaving the light house and making her way towards him. wearing the exact same shade on her lips that decorated Assan’s feathers.

“Rook,” Davrin greets, letting go of Assan’s face and standing “seems you got a bit excited to see Assan last night.”

To be fair, Rook always got excited seeing Assan, always showering him in hugs and pets whenever she walked by him. Though it seemed that alcohol released her from whatever she was holding back when it came to giving Assan affection.

“What do you- oh…” Rook pauses when she takes in the sight of Assan littered in kisses, her eyes move up to look at Davrin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees an obvious flustered look take over her features.

“Something wrong?” Davrin asks

Rook goes to speak but is cut off when the both of them hear the familiar clank of Neve’s prosthetic hitting the stone ground, “well good morning you three, have fun gossiping over your alcohol?”

Before either of them can answer, Neve takes in the scene before her and an amused smile crosses her face, “my my, just what were you two up to last night?”

Rook looks away flustered and Davrin’s confusion only grows, “what are you talking about?”

Neve smiles innocently, “nothing, I just think it’s adorable how similar you and Assan can look sometimes.”

Neve begins walking away towards the kitchen and Davrin can only furrow his eyebrows at her comment, “similar?” he turns to look down at assan again, “what are you even…” he trails off, his eyes landing on the splotches of lipstick sticking to Assan’s feathers as a look of realization crosses his face.

Suddenly he remembers drunken giggles as him and Rook leave the dining room, a cooed, “Assan!” followed by a shocked squawk and exaggerated kissing sounds.

He remembers leading Rook to her room, her turning towards him and reaching for his face, the sight of her lips moving towards him.

Slowly, Davrin reaches a hand up to his cheek, swiping at it before moving his hand back into view.

Sure enough, his fingertips were smudged with the very same berry red that covered both Assan and Rook’s lips.

“Looks like someone was also excited to see me last night.” Davrin hums with a hint of amusement.

Rook lets out a flustered laugh, her gaze still on the ground, “is it bad that I don’t even remember?”

Davrin chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step closer to room before placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. Rook lets out a surprised noise as Davrin leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

Just as quickly he pulls away, a new coat of her red lipstick smudged against his lips, “I think you ought to help us clean us you mess hmm?”

Assan squawks loudly from beside the two and Rook laughs, leaning her head against Davrin’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

[homestead-akatsuka]

"Good day, grasshopper!"

for the first time ever, i - nephilapothecary 'trout' homestead-akatsuka - have finished a ref, and i want to crumble into dust

would you believe this is a 'cover page' ref? as in the actual ref i posted as a wip isn't even done? and neither are joro's expression sheets nor design notes done? sigh... long long way to go!

more info of joro and other credits under the cut because i'm scared of long posts. by long, i MEAN long i am very sorry in advance.

'name' ✧ Mai/Mugi Jorō (麦 ジョロ—) age ✧ late 20s to 30s (generally a good two years older than the sextuplets for reference) height ✧ 4'11 / 151cm birthday ✧ March 14 nationality ✧ Singaporean, Chinese (Cantonese/Hokkien) gender �� Non-binary pronouns ✧ They/He/She – doesn't mind any pronouns, but generally prefers them in the order shown. orientation ✧ Sapphic/Lesbian, Polyamorous, Demisexual voice-claims ✧ Saiga Mitsuki (JPN), Stephanie Beatriz (ENG)

playlist ✧ "And the sunshine greets you again, my scarab!" (to specify, the voice-claims for both JPN and ENG are Rika from Pokemon Horizons and Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn 99 respectively!)

Jorō is the current and only farmer that owns the now-revitalised land on the outskirts of Akatsuka Ward, the quaint Furusato Homestead (故郷農場). Without so much as a tie to the country, it seems as if they've appeared out of nowhere.

They are known by quite a few of the seniors in Akatsuka Ward, though mostly by the stay-at-home parents and local cooks. They make a decent living off of their crops and own a reliable little flock of hens and wild geese, with barn cats that seemed to settle in of their own accord.

One of the few friendlier citizens quickly become a familiar face to them; Jorō becomes fast friends with Matsuyo, someone who frequents their produce at the farmers' market - the fact that Jorō never charges all that much and looks way too young to be a farmer must have drawn Matsuyo in out of curiosity. They see her almost like a second mother, with her kind words and reassuring smile, whose meetings at the markets sometimes come with little gifts of food. Their meetings with Matsuyo soon extend beyond exchanging produce and small talk, and Jorō's presence in the Matsuno household become known to the sextuplets living there. Well, the few instances of their name are accompanied only with a healthy dose of motherly nagging.

A collective decision to put a stop to this endless harassment from their mother, the sextuplets attempt to confront them - and hopefully, scare them off so they wouldn't have to hear about getting jobs again.

An... unfortunate incident leads to a very rocky first impression of Jorō, but the lot of them sort it out in due time.

In the present, the idiosyncratic farmer finds themselves to be good friends with all six of the Matsuno brothers, each with their own little oddities. They are especially fond of the second, fourth, and fifth brothers: Karamatsu, their go-to buddy for so-bad-its-good western movies and playful, sometimes heartfelt talks. Ichimatsu, their quiet companion whose candid - and also morbid - conversations make for great company. And Jyushimatsu, an almost-rabid ball of energy who never gives them a day of mundanity.

𓆣

Jorō's personality and looks are a strange mismatch. Covered neck-down in intricate tattoos of insects and botanical illustrations, one would assume them to assert themselves like a delinquent would, or at least assertively enough to give off a threatening aura, even at a glance. This could not be further from the truth.

They carry themselves with an air of whimsy and have a level-headed mindset. Jorō's language, though warm and homely, can sometimes seem eccentric - choosing to refer to their friends with insect-related terms of endearment and speaking almost in roundabout manners. They rarely hold grudges, but have learnt to be quite wary of people who they find to be shady or untrustworthy. Despite the mellow persona they hold, if they ever aren't being taken seriously, they can and will make their stance clear as day, through words or force. A very 'do no harm, take no shit' attitude. Don't worry though, they're very placid most times.

Jorō comes off as polite and charming to acquaintances, but by god, do they have a potently concentrated ball of anxiety hidden in deep layers within their heart. They easily tire when they're around unfamiliar people, having to keep up the cool, composed act and having to figure out what to say to certain people so they don't come off as impolite or strange. Around friends, they loosen up quite easily and can get a little vulgar. They mean well, it's just natural habit to swear.

A hoarder of hobbies, the king of trinkets. They have a dedicated room for their old, current, and transient hobbies, as well as display shelves for all the little items they collect. You can find quite a lot of stuff in there; guzhengs, violins, embroidery, pottery wheels and more. Their current interests lie heavily in the arts and sciences, mostly illustrations, insect identification, and insect pinning. They love beetle fighting but only ever conduct it under very strict, specific circumstances – they despise hurting beetles for entertainment, and would rather have them fight naturally than force it.

An individual with a vested interest in entomology, environmental sciences, native biodiversity, and ecology. They've earned a Bachelor's Degree in Science and minored in entomology in Australia, they WILL talk your ear off about insects do NOT mention insects around them you will REGRET IT.

Jorō Trivia 𓆣

✧ They speak English, Japanese, German, Mandarin, and some Cantonese! It's mostly swears for Cantonese but they can also converse in it too.

✧ Aside from the Matsuno family, they're cloae buddies with Chibita! They sell daikon and fresh eggs to them and accepts coupons for free oden sometimes.

✧ They hand-embroider a lot of their shoes and pants! A habit they developed from their university days, in which they'd cover all the accidental acid spills and bleach stains with floral and insect motifs.

✧ Their parents enrolled them into a lot of extracurriculars as a kid, so they end up being decent at a lot of things; first aid, singing, violin, guzheng, etc. They're no master though.

✧ A lot of animals seem docile around them. They've managed to befriend a family of geese on their property, formed an alliance with the feral barn cats that take residence in their shed, and somehow managed to figure out a compromise between the crows that always want a bite of their crops. How they do it, nobody knows.

𓆣

god okay I took a LOT of inspiration from @/puffpawstries and @/flowerakatsuka's refs for honno and kuroba respectively, my apologies if i might have mirrored a few things too much GWAHAH

my style's usually quite clashing with the ososan style but i think i managed to balance it! here's the blue linework version even though it's. ngl it's a lil ugly HAHAGSJ

falls over and turns to dust

[igglemouse]

My day starts with my paper delivery job. Oh, yes, I guess I never mentioned that I do have a new job? Just something to supplement my jewelry thing as a little extra income never hurts and the job is easy enough. Drop papers at doorsteps and move on, that's it!

When I do make it home I find a surprising little bowl of stew sitting right on my counter. This must be the work of Niklas, who else would randomly do me a kindness like this? My only question is, did he make it with magic or cook it by hand?

And hey, whether it was made with a dash of magic or pure culinary skill it was pretty good all the same! Seriously, what doesn't he do? Maybe he's just showing off at this point.

In the middle of my meal Niklas strolls out of my restroom, as if he lives here, mind you, and asks if I'm enjoying the food. Honestly, yes, I am. Okay, alright, it's about a 6 out of 10 but it gets 2 bonus points simply because I didn't make it.

"So did you sprinkle a bit of magic in it?" I can't help but ask, it's a harmless question, but I imagine if I could make my dishes better with magic, I would.

"No? I mean I guess I could but-"

"Could you make the perfect meal with a touch of magic?"

"I guess you could? Never tried it though," he admits and from the look on his i can tell he's never really thought about it. He really doesn't like using his magic, huh?

"You really don't like using your watcher given abilities, do you?" I can't help but shake my head as he's made that very clear. It's a little frustrating. Having so much power at the tips of your fingertips and denying it all.

"Honestly, Grace, the whole bit is overrated."

"You keep saying that and yet just last night you waved your hands around and poof, clean tub. Just that alone is amazing."

But he's not convinced, he's shaking his head as if I don't get it at all and takes a deep breath before continuing. "The Realm and all it deals with is not only overrated but dangerous. The regular person lives a nice and safe calm life while we? Well, we could be called upon to face horrors you could never imagine."

"Well..." I falter behind his gaze just a bit because who wouldn't when facing unimaginable horrors? "I umm, yeah, I guess it's that whole great power great responsibility thing then."

"It's exactly like that."

"Alright then...but still, I don't see anything wrong with a little sprinkle of magic to make a pasta just a pinch better."

"I could try, mess up, and accidentally poison your food and you'd be in the hospital right now instead of just eating an average bowl of soup."

Ok, I guess I get his point.

So the man wants the normal life. I can't blame him for that. It sounds like he wants to just move to Henford and live out the rest of his days there or something, I don't know. Again, I can't blame him for that but personally...I'd like to be able to do something magical. I guess it is true, you always want what you can't have, unlesssss you want to soak in milk I guess and relax. You can absolutely have that.

Magic or no magic I am handling my bills pretty well. Thankfully, this place isn't too pricey so I can manage. It always feels good to have things under control financially.

Especially when I can sell a piece of jewelry for 1k. It's not a fortune in the grand scheme of things but it's enough to cover rent and still have simoleons left over. A little breathing room helps!

Hopefully this little ring will sell!

With the rain pouring down outside I can only decide to settle at my computer for the evening and dive into video games. There really isn't much else to do in my little place especially with Niklas off doing whatever he does. So it should be a quiet and peaceful night. Just me, the rain, and my laptop.

At least that was the plan but it looks like I'll be having a late night visitor.

Standing at my doorstep in the middle of a storm is none other than Lilja, the vampire I met earlier in the spring. Our first meeting was strange and now I can't help but wonder what brings her here on this rainy night. It's hard to tell from her expression as it is completely neutral and her eyes, cold and seemingly lifeless, stare right through me.

"So, may I?"

"Come in, you mean?" I ask, stupidly. Of course she needs an invitation. She's a vampire. "Y-yes, I guess so."

"Thank you."

"So, you're not going to like abuse my invitation, are you?"

Lilja chuckles softly at my question, amused in that delicate way of hers. "No, if I wanted to take you then you would have been taken," she says with precision. Perhaps she's right. I have been a little casual with my night time activities but she has made it clear that she's not out to harm me.

"So, then," I take a steady breath and gather my courage. "What brings you here? Despite the fact that I don't remember giving you my address or anything." But I'm sure she's been stalking me. Vampires are natural born stalkers, I might not know much about them but I do know that.

"Did you know that there was a ward put up around your house?" she asks that question with a tilt to her head, as if she is testing me.

"What? Yeah, a magician friend put one up, I'm not sure why-"

"Friend huh?" She gives me a knowing look. Does she know about Niklas? "It was a very weak ward but it did tingle just a little bit, it seems your wards are...weakening."

"Yeah, he's..." I trail off but then stop myself. Why am I explaining this? "Are you stalking me?"

"Watching you, did you forget our deal?"

"I..." guess I have. "Can you remind me again?"

"The blood magic," she says, watching me, her eyes intent and focused upon my expressions. "Do you remember?" and so it comes back to me, the deal, the offer of her maker willing to teach me blood magic. It felt theoretical at the time but now it feels much more concrete.

"I-, yes, I do remember now. Is it difficult to learn?"

"No, just costly."

"Costly? May I ask why you're willing to do this? What is in it for you and your umm...maker?"

"Everything," the weight of that word brings silence and for a moment I'm not sure what else to say. "The Realm have hunted our kind to near extinction and only the help of a blood witch can save us now."

"Oh," so am I the chosen one? "You can't just find someone else?"

"It is in your blood, your mother-"

"Yes, yes, she was a blood witch, I know."

"I am inviting you back to the castle," she says, and I'm reminded me that she had warned me against coming back because her maker might attack me again and she sees that concern and memory in my eyes. "He rests still, he is still weak. He needs...blood."

"Umm, yeah, sure, since you are inviting me I guess, does Saturday work."

"Yes, sounds perfect."

I'm not sure what the time is but I am getting a little uncomfortable with her here. "Umm, now, it's getting kind of late for me so if you don't mind..."

Episode List - Next Episode 3.4

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

Eliot hit the ground forearm-first, rolling along the left side of his body to spare himself as much pain as possible. Lancaster’s shot went high—he heard it thud into the wall, well past the desk he’d landed beneath—but his attention was on the sound of Parker’s footsteps as she broke from cover. One, two, three... The door crashed open, and Lancaster’s answering shot came four seconds too late.

Parker was safe. The rest, he’d figure out.

The radio buzzed against the floor in the middle of the lobby, and he heard a muffled, “Ford, I have Parker. Come around to the front. Lancaster’s still inside with Spencer.”

Thank God for J.B. He really didn’t know how he was going to repay him.

“Hear that?” Eliot called. “Now it’s just you and me. We can still walk out of here before the police show up.”

“No one’s walking out,” Lancaster said. “But you’re right about one thing: we don’t have time to play. Stand up. I won’t shoot, I just want to talk to you face to face.”

Eliot snorted. “Somehow, I’m doubting your sincerity.”

“I give you my word.”

That was as good as useless, but if Eliot wanted to keep him talking long enough to chance an escape, he had to play along. “All right,” he said, sucking in a fortifying breath before straightening behind the desk. His right leg throbbed, and he could feel the blood soaking into his jeans—another pair of Sunny’s ruined. He’d never pay her back at this rate.

Lancaster stood across the room, his derringer aimed at Eliot’s chest. “See you worked your hands free,” Eliot said, rolling his shoulders. “What took you so long? We shouldn’t have been able to beat you down the stairs.”

Lancaster grinned. “I had to stop at my safe. Didn’t want this to get caught up in the explosion.”

He lifted a gun belt, and Eliot snorted. “Don’t you think you’re taking this cowboy thing a little too far?”

“This isn’t a cowboy thing,” Lancaster sneered. “This is a Colt Model 1860 Army Percussion Revolver, owned by Jesse James himself when he rode with the Quantrill Raiders. I bought it for $230,000, but I figured once I found the James treasure, it would sell for twice that.”

A flicker of color outside caught Eliot’s eye: police lights. Their sirens joined the wail of the alarm, and Eliot did his best to push the noise to the back of his mind. “Hard to dig up a treasure on someone else’s property,” he said.

“Well, with you out of the way, that won’t be much of a problem.”

Eliot eased a step backward, shuffling to keep from putting too much pressure on his right leg. “You don’t know Sunny June very well.”

“I don’t need to,” Lancaster said. “That’s the beauty of money. You never have to get your hands dirty.”

“Until now,” Eliot said.

“Until now.” Lancaster lifted the gun, sighting down his arm and closing one eye. “A fact I’m about to remedy.”

Eliot braced himself to turn and run, but Lancaster didn’t shoot. Instead, he bent his knees, set the gun at his feet, and slid it across the floor toward Eliot.

“Pick it up,” he said.

Eliot stared at him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Shooting at the range is one thing,” Lancaster said, sliding the gun belt off his shoulder and fastening it around his waist. “But I’ve always wanted to know how I’d measure up in a real gun fight.”

“Your gun is 150 years old,” Eliot said. “And mine has a range of like seven yards. Not exactly worthy of the O.K. Corral.”

“You scared?” Lancaster needled.

Eliot laughed. “That don’t work on professionals, hoss. I got nothing to prove to you.”

“Then put it this way.” Lancaster spun the cylinder on his revolver, sliding bullets in as he spoke. “I’m shooting either way. You can pick up that gun and defend yourself, or stand there and take a bullet. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Fire sirens joined the cacophony of alarms, but no one was coming inside. Waiting for the bomb squad, probably—he had to keep stalling. Slowly, he lowered himself into a crouch and reached for the derringer, his eyes on Lancaster’s right hand. He’d holstered the gun and stood with his feet planted wide, grinning.

“How do you see this going down?” Eliot asked. 

Lancaster flexed his hands. “You pick up the gun. It’s already loaded, but you’ll need to cock the hammer. Stand with it at your side, and then we draw. Fastest man wins.”

“Speed’s got nothing to do with it if you can’t land a hit,” Eliot said.

“Then I guess we’re about to test your aim.”

Great—Eliot had no idea if he could shoot. Probably, given his other skills, but it would be just his luck that guns weren’t one of the weapons he was apparently proficient with. But even if he could shoot, even if he could manage to hit Lancaster at the edge of the derringer’s range, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Whatever he’d done in the past, whoever he’d been before… he didn’t want to be a killer. Parker had trusted him to follow her out, and if killed Lancaster now…

He wasn’t sure how much of himself would stay behind.

“On three?” Eliot asked. He’d picked up the gun, frowning at the feel of the short handle in his palm, but was careful to keep it pointed away from Lancaster. 

“So you can shoot on two?” Lancaster said. “You’re not getting inside my head, Spencer. Just draw.”

“It’s not really drawing if I don’t have a holster,” Eliot muttered. He lifted the gun carefully, keeping it at his hip as he rose on his good leg.

“There’s no talking your way out of this one,” Lancaster said, sneering. “Either way, you’re not getting out of this alive.”

Eliot went still. “Either way?”

Lancaster’s fingers twitched, and his gaze darted toward a clock on the wall over Eliot’s head. “You think you’re the only one who can stall?”

Alarms and sirens screamed. Eliot’s heart pounded, sending stabs of adrenaline through him—but no fear. Time was up, and he was getting out. 

He’d made a promise.

“You assumed I had to call to set off the bombs,” Lancaster said, misinterpreting his silence. “That ain’t the only way to do it. I would’ve taken a long lunch, only to come back and find the evil Mr. Ford had made good on his threats again—but this will work. You’ve got about ten seconds to decide whether you want to go out with a bang or a bullet.”

Eliot fired. He aimed high, hoping to take Lancaster by surprise, make him flinch—hoping to steal an extra second while he turned for the door. Lancaster’s gun clicked behind him—a misfire—the idiot had probably tried using the ammunition in the gun belt. He didn’t look over his shoulder to see if Lancaster was following. He fixed his eyes on the doors—on the golden hair he could see beyond them.

The explosion started above them. Without the charges in the basement, the building shook, but held—windows burst overhead, raining glass down on the sidewalk outside. The firefighters and police flinched at the sound, hurrying to usher spectators out of the way. Eliot’s leg gave out and he stumbled, caught himself on one hand, and ran on. He was ten feet away—seven, five, two.

The next charges blew as his hand hit the door, and the force of the blast threw it open, glass shattering around him. He lost his feet, crashing into the sidewalk as heat exploded against his back, and then something hit his head—

[yo9urt]

uraaaaaaagghh

[void-tiger]

…wHY do y’all feel the need to mention where someone’s at when they’re not around! Sure I have a crush on that idiot but I’m never going to admit to it, and actively avoid bringing them up myself ‘cause it’d feel like a freudian slip and it’s not my business anyway.

How often do I even come up in y’all’s home conversation. Is it out of pity? Or is this idiot just as insufferable as I am to my friends who are WELL AWAY from this and therefore Safe to repeatedly try spring-cleaning my demiromantic acengst with.

Are y’all pressuring them about me, too, or has that FINALLY, finally eased off.

(And what value can I possibly have, anyway. I’m unemployed and just shy of a shutin from severe anxiety/moderate depression and cptsd, adhd, and a smorgasbord of muscular-skeletal issues that just keep creeping up and staying and moving the goalpost to even TRY getting a job. The idiot has other friends when they have time to spend on them. All I am is stubborn enough to stick around and wait if I’m not actively being chased off IF the other party seems to really want that connection.)

[silverislander]

people smarter than me have said this before but jesus christ why does every job seem to require at least a year of experience and a degree in some hyperspecific field. where did the entry level positions go? how am i even supposed to get experience if none of yall will give me a job without it?

[halo--hall]

can't decide if the headache i have had for days is a gum thing or a sinus thing or both but it's pairing really well with the shoulder pain i've had for weeks lmao. mystery chronic illness is awesome

[stellardeer]

i have to come to terms with the fact that I am actually well off for someone in this country now, like.. idk it's weird

i'm still living the exact same lifestyle that i was before, so for the most part it feels almost like nothing has changed, like maybe im spending a little bit more money on food and buying the "good" toilet paper, but all that does is allow me to actually have savings in my bank account

i still stand with the working class and impoverished people of this country, and I am very much still in the boat of "one [very] bad day from homelessness" so i am not taking this for granted whatsoever

i've just been watching some of those youtube channels where they interview random people all over the country and just like.. kinda show what their life is like and it's definitely putting mine in perspective

very very grateful for the opportunities i have had and very proud of myself for forcing myself to stay in college (even tho it took almost 10 years to finish and left me with a mountain of debt) and just like.. idk, i feel like i could be doing more to help people out, i can't wait til im out of debt ;o;

[areyoudoingthis]

having a mental breakdown over the painters accidentally covering up the holes in the wall I used to hang my plant holders from cause i no longer have access to my father's drill ✌🏻

[orcelito]

i haaaaaaave health insurance

god, why does being an adult have to be so fucking expensive lmfao