#if you are willing to part with a decent sum of money you CAN do it

[patrice-bergerons]

At this point right, my favourite painter is already JMW Turner, so maybe, I should just fully lean into this tall ship thing I clearly have going on and watch nothing but various historical nautical dramas. Why not.

[gay-little-izzet]

I do commissions!

It’s been a busy few months for me, but I’m finally feeling in a good place to start doing these again! Note that I only accept payment through PayPal at the moment, and my prices are in USD.

Full information below ⬇️

I offer characters illustrations in four styles and three sizes. The images above are not the only possibilities of how a commission could be inked or rendered, as I’m open to using different brushes or techniques on request. If there’s a particular piece of mine you like the style of, let me know and I can refer you to the pricing that applies.

OPTIONS AND RATES

Sketch: a rough sketch with a textured or untextured brush. Sketch commissions will include an under-sketch to determine pose and composition. Some of these prices are intended mostly for inclusion as part of a character sheet. I will add base colors to a sketch for double the original price.

Head/Bust: $5 ($10 with color)

Half Body: $10 ($20 with color)

Full Body: $15 ($30 with color)

Style A: Thick or medium lines with basic colors underneath. Includes simple details and gradients, but not full shading.

Head/Bust: $15

Half Body: $30

Full Body: $40

Style B: Thick or medium lines with soft shading or cell shading.

Head/Bust: $20

Half Body: $40

Full Body: $60

Style C: Medium or thin lines with full shading/render. +$10 for colored line art.

Head/Bust: $30

Half Body: $60

Full Body: $90

Chibis: I've finally found a style I like for drawing chibi characters, so I'll be including this as a new commission option! Chibis will all be done in the same style, with thick lines and basic coloring.

Head: $10

Full Body: $30

Character Sheet: A series of drawings of a single character, provided they are commissioned at the same time, will cost 10% less than the sum of all components. This includes characters dressed in different outfits, but normal rates apply to a commission of multiple distinct characters.

Complex Design: Since the level of the detail of a design will impact the time it takes me to draw, I am now including an additional charge of 5-10% of the original cost for especially complex designs (very detailed clothing, elaborate anatomy, complicated color/shading situations). As complexity may vary, the additional cost will vary as well (although it literally can't exceed $10 for a single drawing based on my current prices). I appreciate it if clients are understanding when I decide a drawing will cost extra, because this charge helps ensure I am earning a decent rate for my time.

PAYMENT PROCESS

As I mentioned above, I accept payment through PayPal in USD. You can send money directly to my account, @VRWintner, or if it’s more convenient for you/you would like a more specific record of the transaction, I can also send an invoice directly to your PayPal account.

For commissions of $30 or more, I require at least 50% of the cost to be paid upfront (although clients are welcome to pay more than that, or pay in full upfront). The remaining cost can be paid upon completion, and may be paid in installments if necessary. Bear in mind that if you fail to fully pay for a commission, you cannot purchase another until you have done so, and I may be hesitant to accept a commission if you are unreliable with payment.

I always welcome tips! If you're able and willing to toss me a little extra on a comm, I greatly appreciate it (but no stress if you can't--I don't expect to be paid any more than the agreed upon price, anything extra is up to you).

DISCLAIMERS

I Can/Will Draw:

ocs/rpg characters

fanart

ship art (including fanart or ocs)

party/group drawings

furry/anthro/monsters

robots/cyborgs/phyrexians, ect.

prosthetics and other tech

armor and weapons

blood/gore/body horror

non-sexual nudity

specific art styles

I Can't/Won't Draw:

explicitly sexual content

harmful or offensive content of any kind

any material I have personal or ethical issues with drawing. Given the commissions I have had before, I don't see this being a problem, but if this or the above clause applies, I will make it clear with the client that I am unwilling to draw it immediately.

Understand that art commissioned from me is still my art, and I expect to be credited for it. Please don’t repost my art without credit to me (rude), use it for training ai (why), or use it for commercial purposes (again, why). Again, I don't see this being an issue, as you all have been lovely clients thus far!

If you have questions about my rates or policies, please don't hesitate to ask--my inbox and dms are always open, and I will try to respond promptly. Thank you all for the love and support!

[9r7g5h]

To the Chapel (Even Though We Want to Run)

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia 

Rating: T

Genre: Gen

Summary: Of all the ways Izuku had imagined his wedding day to go, he never thought it would feel like a funeral procession.

Words: 3,742

Of all the ways Izuku had imagined his wedding day to go, he never thought it would feel like a funeral procession.

It was beautiful, of course. The horse he rode upon was magnificent, a gentle but strong mare that had been decked out in ribbons and gold, her mane twisted into elegant knots, nothing like his own unruly hair that refused everything his attendants had tried. Everyone that followed behind him dressed in new clothes that shimmered in the light, crystals and sometimes even real gems sewn into the cloth to give the illusion of wealth. Banners had been hung from every building that lined the way he and his own would travel down, letting their people see their prince as he rode to his wedding; a parade that, in other circumstances, would have been joyful.

He remembered, vaguely, the cheers that came from the citizens when he’d gone to witness Prince Touya and his knight Hawks wed many years ago. How happy the people had been that their wayward prince had found love and decided to come home, to take his father’s throne and turn their kingdom back from ruin. None of that greeted him now, only pitiful stares as he tried to hold back his tears and forced a smile on his face, waving at the people he knew. The people who had become his friends, the family that had taken the place of his mother when she had passed, when his father had turned his back at his presentation, who had held him together when this union had been announced. At least they had been given a decent sum, like all the citizens of the capital had, to do what needed to be done to keep up appearances.

King Hisashi Midoriya might hate his omega son, might have married him off the first moment he could, but he at least cared enough about appearances for this.

The castle itself was glorious to behold - money, Izuku knew, they did not have. Or, rather, would have soon enough; his soon to be husband (he couldn’t help but shudder at the word, his stomach turning at the thought he quickly pushed aside so he didn’t spoil his clothes) was wealthy, and the ‘bride’ price that he’d paid as part of this alliance agreement would shore up the kingdom for years to come. Would stave off another famine, give the diviners time to find another vein of gold, would keep his people safe. All the reasons why he was going through with this, why he hadn’t fled the moment the opportunity was presented to him.

Izuku was more willing to do what needed to be done for his people. He just wished the cost to himself wasn’t so high, and didn’t leave him feeling so sick.

It hurt to bring his mare to a halt before the castle doors. Not because he was one step closer to everything, to facing his father and the man he was being married off to, but because before he could dismount himself he heard the clanking of armor, felt the large hands wrap around his waist and lift, was forced to look into the pained red eyes of the man who stood before him. The man who, just last night, had done what he had sworn to never do before and begged - begged him to run away with him, to leave all of this behind; fuck the royalty and the kingdom that would sell him, please, let’s just go.

Izuku raised his head and forced a smile, ignoring the wetness under his eyes as he squeezed the forearms supporting him. “Thank you, Kacchan. I’m ok. You can let go now.”

For a long moment, Katsuki stood there, his head bowed, hands still around Izuku’s waist. He knew what he was thinking, had heard the thoughts before: was thinking, at that moment, it wouldn’t be hard to swing them both up onto one of the horses, to ride out of there before anyone else could be mobilized to chase them. That they could find refuge somewhere and get the happy ending they craved. That his sword was sharp, he was the best knight in the entire kingdom, that he was an alpha, that he could win.

Instead, Katsuki let go, his eyes defeated even as he schooled the rest of his face into something close to neutral. He took a step back, putting a respectable distance between them, his head lowering into a bow. “Of course, my Prince.”

Not childhood friends. Not pained lovers being forced to part. Just a prince and his knight, the guardian assigned to keep him alive. A job. Nothing more. That was all anyone would see.

Izuku was glad, now, for the perfumes and layers of cloth that covered his neck, that blocked his natural scent and gave off a lie of pleasure. Without it, someone could have noticed how much that pained him, how hard it broke his heart to not hear the possession within his voice that normally existed whenever Katsuki called him ‘My Prince.’ It was only proper that these ties be severed before they could bind, but that didn’t make cutting them any less painful.

The halls of the castle, at least, were loud enough to drown out the ringing in his ears and the fuzz in his head, people laughing and talking and yelling to be heard over the music that Izuku’s father had hired to ensure there wasn’t a moment of silence. It made it easier, not having to speak, just nodding in acknowledgment when spoken to, waving his hand towards the musicians if anyone tried to start a conversation. Most of them were attendants of his future husband, soon to be his own, and while they seemed like lovely people, the idea of interacting with them at this time was terrifying.

Only a few of his people would be allowed to come with him. Ochako, Iida and Tsu. Not even Kacchan was allowed to come with him to his new castle, his new home, though perhaps that was more of a blessing that King Hisashi had granted than a curse. It would hurt to see him after having to lay in another man’s bed, see him interact with another alpha’s children, both of them wanting but unable to have.

So perhaps this was right. Izuku had meant it when he said Katsuki could let go. Their final interaction to bring them some semblance of peace, of closure, even if the wound itself would never heal. Childhood promises broken and left behind, no matter how much they wanted to keep them.

Before he could sit and consider and let his mind spiral down into the darkness that often awaited him, the people were moving into the chapel, the music was changing, his attendants standing behind him. As much escorting him as making sure he didn’t mess up, his father’s biggest concern of the day, so sure his worthless omega son would do something to ruin this treaty. Which he wouldn’t. Izuku refused to be the failure he was believed to be; he would do this for his father, his country, for his people. Would complete the treaty and get the money and alliance that would keep them safe for so many years, if not generations, to come. He would keep his head high and stomach in check, and he would do what needed to be done.

Even if it meant marrying the man he once saw as an uncle, who had been there since he was a child, had been the one to tell him tales of love and happy endings, cruelly knowing he was never going to get his own. Even if it meant being mated to King Yagi Toshinori, the thought of which made his very skin crawl as he began to walk down the aisle, he would do it.

For his kingdom, and for his people.

The ceremony was quick - or perhaps he never really paid attention, his mind blank as the man Toshinori had brought with him read from the book, the two of them repeating after him almost mechanically. Hands tied together, wine drunk from the same cup, messages and symbolism he knew but didn’t, couldn’t remember. Because this was a fake, a falsehood, not a marriage but an exchange between his father and someone he thought cared about him, and all he could do for the rest of his life was accept it.

When Toshinori lifted his veil and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, Izuku couldn’t stop the tears. Didn’t even try. Just stared up at his new husband, at the old friend and mentor that had betrayed him, and, perhaps selfishly, was glad he was a blond as well. If he was to be forced to have his children, at least if they came out blond, perhaps with his own green eyes, he could pretend.

He could barely remember the feast - he knew the food was supposed to be good, had smelt the chefs cooking for days. But even with course after course of delicious food laid out before him (enough to feed most of the capital, he knew, bitterly, enough to keep many of them going for days, and all of this wasted on a lie), he couldn’t eat. Couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t bring himself to taste what he knew would be sour and ash upon his tongue. All he knew was he sat there, next to his husband, as time passed in leaps and jerks until finally, a hand was at his elbow, gently helping him rise from his seat. Izuku was aware enough to flush at the comments thrown their way as Toshinori led him towards the exit, ignoring the lewd statements and just waving towards his attendants, the group of people Izuku had never met and who would now become his entire life rising and following after them as they made their way towards the wing of the castle set aside just for them.

Just for this. Their wedding night.

He was glad, then, that he’d eaten nothing, because at the sight of the bedroom - the luxurious bed, the blankets already half nested, a steaming cup of tea that he knew would cause a faux heat if he drank it (to aid in conception the woman had told his father so the king can have an heir as soon as possible) - he wanted to be sick. He wanted to reject everything, this marriage, his title as Prince, the life he was now expected to go and live. But he couldn’t, so all he could do was reject the little that was in his stomach, bile stinging his throat and tongue as he struggled not to soil himself and the rug beneath his feet. The rug that kept him bolted to the floor, because right then and there he wanted to run, wanted to flee from the old alpha towering over him, reaching out towards him, he wanted Kacchan-

“Young Midoriya, you’re shaking. Please, come sit.” Gentle hands took his elbow and forearm, leading him away from the bed, towards a pair of chairs that had been pulled out to look at one another. Carefully Toshinori lowered Izuku into one before settling himself into the other, groaning lowly as his bones shifted. When he was settled, though, he gave Izuku a small, sad smile, his sunken eyes still visible enough to show the pity he felt. “You have nothing to fear, my boy.” His voice was soothing, his scent pulled in to keep as calming of an environment as he could. “While we may be husbands on paper, you are nothing more than my nephew, and I am nothing more than your Uncle Toshi. You are safe, my boy.”

“Why?” He was still shaking, still tense in his chair as he looked at the man before him, offering him so much after having taken away everything. Were his words true? Or were they some kind of twisted game, getting his hopes up only to destroy them? Izuku, a year ago, would have said his Uncle Toshi - an uncle in all but blood, the closest family friend his kingdom had - was a kind, honorable man, one who spoke straight and would never do something like that. Now, however, he just wasn’t sure. “Why did this happen?”

“Izuku...” Toshinori ran his hand over his face, up through his hair to push it back and out of his eyes. He was tired; it was clear the day had been long for him as well, though Izuku couldn’t find it within himself at the moment to care. “May I speak freely of your father?”

A nod.

“He’s a horrid man, and the only reason I maintained my friendship with him was because of your mother, and after her passing, you.” That got a chuckle out of Izuku. Not from the words themselves, but from how refreshing it was to hear someone other than Kacchan speak so freely of their hatred towards his father, something they all could agree upon. The chuckle seemed to cheer Toshinori up, allowing him to relax a little bit more into his chair. “You must know that your father was hoping for an alpha son, or at the very least a beta. So when you presented as an omega, he was quite disappointed with the outcome.”

‘You could have at least done me the courtesy of being born a girl, if all you were going to be good for was taking dick and pushing out pups. Wouldn’t have wasted all that sword training on you.’

Izuku knew exactly how his father felt.

“So when your father began talking about an alliance between kingdoms, he made it quite clear that part of the deal would be you. That he no longer wanted you around the castle, and thus whoever was willing to take you would get the alliance.” Toshinori reached out and patted Izuku’s hand, a calming gesture to try and counteract the harsh words. “When he made me the ‘offer,’ I tried to change it so you would become my ward, but he was strangely insistent that it was marriage instead. I believe so, if anything became of me, you wouldn’t be returned to him.”

“My father truly does hate me that much,” Izuku sighed, pulling up one leg to rest his head on his knee. He’d known it, but the reminder still hurt.

“Not just you,” Toshinori said gently, “but all omegas, for some reason. Which is why I finally agreed to marry you. So you’ll be away from your father, and whatever ignorance he has. Some gold that can easily be regained is a small price to pay for the happiness of my favorite nephew.”

He tried, he truly did, but Izuku couldn’t stop the tears that slid down his cheeks. He was so exhausted, mentally and emotionally, that it was just too hard to try and hide anything from the man before him. The man who had gone from being uncle to traitor to husband and back to uncle again in just a few hours, who had taken and given back a little bit of the sense of safety Izuku had lost from this whole ordeal. Who had watched him grow, and knew him so well. Izuku couldn’t hide.

“I’ll be free of my father, Uncle Toshi,” Izuku agreed, wiping angrily at his cheeks, “but he won’t let Kacchan come with us. And I... I’m...”

“I have a plan for that, my boy.” Toshinori left his chair and knelt before Izuku, wiping at his face for him. “What if I told you that a king can offer a knighthood to another knight, and it can be taken without consequence, save for a small fee paid to the other king? That the family of said knight can easily be moved with them, including all of their tailoring machines, and that it’s quite easy for good clothsmithes to get set up where we will be going to live? That I would be happy to appoint him your personal knight, with quarters in your wing of the castle so he can attend to you whenever necessary? What if I told you all of those things?”

Izuku was crying for real now, sobbing helplessly as he let his uncle hug him, making calming sounds as he ran his hand up and down his back, much like his mother once did when he was a child. It truly was too much, this had to be a dream, because it was more than he ever could have hoped for and everything he ever could have wanted.

“Fucking get off me, shitty hair!”

“Ahh, looks like my attendant found your knight.” Toshinori chuckled as he stood, using his shirt hem to wipe at the tears still left on Izuku’s cheeks. “Just in time, this next part will most likely include both of you.”

It took another few moments before the door burst open, a soaking wet Katsuki dragged in by three of the attendants Izuku recognized as belonging to Toshinori. Even clearly drunk they were struggling to keep a hold on him, his strength shown as he thrashed between them.

“Sorry, my lord,” one of them said with a sharp smile, his red hair dripping. “We wanted to sober him up a bit before we brought him to you. Took me in too.”

“Because you tried to push me into the fucking lake, you dipshit, of course I was bringing you too. Just let me go so I can fuck off.” A snap of teeth at one of the hands holding him, the black-haired man barely moving them in time.

“Young Bakugou, if you would please calm down, I believe you’ll enjoy the conversation I’d like to have with you.”

Even drunk Katsuki recognized Toshinori's voice - how could he not, when the man had spent almost as much time with him as Izuku growing up? He stilled in the attendants' grasp, eyes flickering around the room, searching, a sigh of relief leaving him when he found the bed and saw it empty. Though it was clear he was on guard when he was finally allowed to stand on his own, shaking off the hands that tried to keep him upright to do it himself, even if there was a slight sway in the way he stood.

He glanced towards the set of chairs, but his gaze didn't linger. Instead settling on the king's feet, hands twitching before settling into fists. "You need something, your majesty?"

"Please, leave us," to the attendants, waiting until the door was firmly shut before Toshinori shuffled back to his chair. Glancing around the room himself, he gestured towards a stool in the corner, nodding when Katsuki moved to grab it. "Please, young Bakugou, come join us. I was just discussing the possibility of you coming to join us in my kingdom with young Midoriya."

Katsuki froze half-seated, his eyes flickering to Izuku once before dropping to the ground again. But that flicker was enough - he was hurting, and the idea of coming with them, of seeing Izuku in the arms of another man, would kill him. And he thought Izuku cruel for asking him to watch.

"Kacchan," Izuku said softly, the smile he gave unseen as Katsuki refused to look at him, "please, hear him out."

A curt nod, hands clenched into fists on his knees, but at least he stayed.

"It’s well known I never intended to take a mate,” Toshinori said calmly, looking between the two. His smile was small, affection clear in his eyes. “And I still never intend to.”

Katsuki's head jerked up, staring wide-eyed between Toshinori and the smiling Izuku. "Deku," he rasped, tongue heavy with emotions and drink, "what..."

"Our marriage is platonic," Toshinori continued. "I have no interest in Izuku, beyond him as a nephew, or a son. This was to protect him from his father, and nothing more. Though, I will still need heirs for my kingdom." He leaned forward, fingers interlacing as he rested his chin on his folded hands. He kept his gaze steady on Katsuki, watching as the gears clicked into place behind his eyes. "Any children Izuku has will officially be listed as my own, but who he chooses as the sire is no concern of mine. Though, interestingly enough, just yesterday afternoon I discovered that my own great-grandmother happened to have red eyes herself. There are no portraits of her, of course, but a description of her was found in a very old journal. A brilliant red, it said."

Izuku reached out, Katsuki quickly taking his hand, squeezing it tight as he looked up at King Toshinori as if he was something more than just a man, just a king offering them everything they could have wanted. Both of their faces were wet, Izuku realized, a new kind of tears slipping unnoticed until that moment down their cheeks as they were given back their future.

Toshinori chuckled as he stood and wiped at Izuku's face once again with the hem of his shirt, a quick kiss on his forehead before doing the same to Katsuki, a gesture the alpha didn't even try to protest. "If those red eyes just happen to appear in the children listed as my own," he said softly, clasping Katsuki's shoulder - approval, an excited wish for the happiness he would soon see grow - "well, it's common knowledge that rare features like those can skip generations. And my people know how to keep their mouths shut."

Izuku was aware of the door closing behind Toshinori as he left but could barely pay it any mind as Katsuki’s hands cupped his face, tilting it up to draw him into a kiss. It was wet, the smell of the lake filling his nose and the taste of drink sour and strong on his lips, but Izuku couldn’t care less as the same hands that had so easily lifted him from his horse earlier that day now lifted him from the chair, stumbling steps letting them collapse on the bed that was now theirs. Theirs and theirs alone, and if this wasn’t a cruel game there would be another waiting for them at their new home, just theirs.

For the first time on his wedding day, Izuku laughed, truly laughed, and pulled his knight Kacchan in for another kiss.

[END]

If there are any questions/requests, I have a Curious Cat and a Retrospring! :3

curiouscat.live/9r7g5h

retrospring.net/@9r7g5h

And if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-fi! :3c Tips are appreciated! Comms are open, so if you're interested, info is on my Ko-fi page.  

Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/9r7g5h

[sociomi]

How to Win on Slot Machines Every Time – How to Win Big at Slots

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[car-leasing-in-india]

Everything you need to know as a fleet manager

The business has always been made to sustain. Every person who invests a certain sum of their hard-earned money into any business wants it to keep growing daily. Such is the case with business fleet management. No matter how you start, if you are willing to make it big, you will. As you have expanded your business from scratch to new heights of profitability, you might have to look at things more precisely now.

Whether or not you realize it, adding new vehicles to the existing fleet of the company car lease system is a painstaking task that demands a lot of attention and perseverance. The new scenario imposes many new challenges, but if they are done successfully, the business can achieve new heights.

What do you mean by fleet management?

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Why is fleet management critical?

It is crucial to understand the importance of fleets and how their efficiency is proportional to the business's success. From driver safety to cost control, monitoring even the slightest part of the business comes under the fleet management system.

 management of vehicles- vehicle acquisition and management is the most crucial part of having a decent, reasonable car fleet. Nowadays, many car lease companies have introduced their fleet management system, under which they help and guide the corporations to maintain and utilize their vehicles regularly. Business car fleet leasing companies ensure that you don't have to make high investments and still enjoy the benefits to the fullest. You can visit our website for the best discounts and flexible finance options for effective management.’

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[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter one)

SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor. 

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge. 

a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him. 

“You risk us again and again!” 

The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.” 

I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.” 

He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.” 

Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.” 

The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me. 

Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of. 

“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.” 

I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors. 

----

This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously. 

“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.” 

A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.” 

She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.” 

The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!” 

She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--” 

“Anya!” 

Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.” 

There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.” 

A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away. 

“You’re playing this round?” 

I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”

The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies. 

“How much to enter?” 

A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare. 

“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.” 

I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue. 

The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.

“Where are you going?” 

I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.” 

The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.” 

Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”

Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.” 

I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely. 

“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.” 

Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands. 

“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.” 

Typical. “I swear my money’s real.” 

“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back. 

The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.” 

His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.” 

Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.” 

Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?” 

Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.” 

He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” 

“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.” 

I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane. 

“There was no tactic--it was a game.” 

The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.” 

He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”

“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.” 

At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?” 

Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be? 

“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.” 

What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man. 

“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.” 

“Rude.” 

She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.” 

“I don’t concede often.” 

I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”

He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm. 

“I don’t take losses, little girl.”

Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?” 

“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived. 

“Excuse me?” 

The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.” 

The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm. 

“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.” 

Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane. 

Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me. 

“Y/n, do you think it’s--” 

“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.” 

A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No. 

Not here. Not now.

And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.” 

“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.” 

I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.” 

“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.” 

My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.” 

“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--” 

I shake my head once, “Anya--go.” 

“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”

Is he always this confusing? “What?” 

The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.” 

“You don’t want to work with me.” 

“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.” 

“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again. 

Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.” 

I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.” 

Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.” 

“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.” 

I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.” 

The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.” 

“Can you get my friend out?” 

“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants. 

He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.” 

“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.” 

Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.” 

“Y/n, it’s not worth it.” 

I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.” 

“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.” 

I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.” 

Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more. 

“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.” 

Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.” 

This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.” 

“Yes,” I nod once.

“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.” 

“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.” 

“Desperation leads to bad decisions.” 

Dramatic. “I agree.” 

His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.” 

Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly. 

Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol. 

[znikomek]

New order

A fantasy AU

A thin line separated the dark welkin from the water. Never else was a man so close to heaven, just outthrusting his hand should bring him otherwise unreachable. With every wave that rocked the ship, lifting it on the surface, an urge to grasp the stars rose in the heart.

The night brought strength to the travellers soaked in her, bestowed upon them a power they would not dream of during the reign of dun, tempting to join her servants. They had met people who had decided to stay in the lack of light, with only black in their eyes. But those were not to fear but pity.

Alexander and he danced on the verge of it, diving while holding to the other for safety. It was necessary to drench themselves before rising to the day and glory. And the journey demanded sacrifices.

For years, they kept in the back, being on hire. When someone needed negotiations to be done, they stepped in, prepared for every possibility. But they were working for themselves; with every transaction for a stranger came two on their account.

And so they sailed, building their power far from the eyes of everything but stars. John was watching the sky, lying on the deck with his head resting comfortably on Alexander’s lap. The sea was calm, and they were planning their next mission.

Having gained a decent share in the turnover of coal, they set as their point to earn on some even more valuable material - sholie. This shiny powder played a great part in jewellery making, and rich people were willing to pay enormous sums to get a shiny stone from it.

“Guelam? The birthday of his triplets is coming.” Alexander’s left hand was playing with John’s hair, while his right hand was making a list of those moneybags who would be most willing to spend their wealth.

“Do add him.” John sighed and shifted his hand onto his lover’s calf, niddling with the fabric of his trousers. Soon, he let go of it and switched to massaging his leg in a leisure, circular motion.

The lamp above them swung, as a wave hit the side, Alexander let his fountain pen drop and grabbed the wall in a reflex. After quite some time, they got used to living on the water, but they both missed the land, the cities in his case and the countryside in John’s, so they were looking forward to long walks on roads.

But there were more things he was looking forward to. “When we get some goods, would you like a ring?”

“A ring?” John looked up at him curiously, his lips forming a tiny, uncontrolled smile.

“A ring,” Alexander chimed in. “With a big, glimmering, cerulean stone and a golden band. A decoration worth of the great man you are.”

“You would buy me a ring?”

“I would.” Alexander grinned, slipping also his other hands into John’s hair. “Moreover, I would love to.”

John huffed and propped himself on the elbows, tilting his head for a kiss, his eyes shining when he received it and shutting the very next moment. When Alexander broke the kiss, John flopped back on his tights.

“How much can we drive the prices up? Alexander mumbled, braiding a tiny plait over John’s ear.

“Ten, twelve times?” John sighed. “I should get better beforehand.”

Despite the best care, the wound a hostile knife had left in his tight during the last wrong-gone mission had not healed yet. The dull, everyday ache was barely noticeable, but whenever he tried to move rapidly, a jolt of sharp pain hit his brain. John missed the full range of movement.

“We could trade a fraction of our shares in coal.”

“What?” He rapidly raised his head, hissing quietly when his hair stuck in Alexander’s palm. “That would be a loss for us.”

“We still would earn. And you can’t run, I’m not risking your life for money.” He used his power to pull John’s head back down. “I am not that greedy.”

“I thought you would say you love me.”

“And do you want me to say that?” he smiled teasingly.

John squinted, judging the trap he fell into. He could say he didn’t want it, but it would be a lie, or he could ask, beg for Alexander to say that. “I do, my dear. I do want to hear it.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear you say that you love me,” he whined, playing on what he knew Alexander liked.

“I’m not convinced.”

“I need you to say you love me.”

With the smug smirk on his face transforming into the warmest smile, Alexander leaned down to John’s ear and whispered, “I love and adore you.”

John swelled with pride, there were little things better than being a subject of Alexander’s affection. Not many could count themselves into this group.

Silence filled with their smiles crawled between them, and Alexander got back to his work, though his hand kept messing with John’s hair.

On any other day, John would sit with him, but today, from the very morning, he felt lazy. The worst of it evaporated, but Alexander spoiled him so well he did not want to risk exiting this bubble of being vulnerable. Not that he was ever spared tenderness when asked.

“Can you sit next to me?” Alexander let go of his hair and looked questioningly. “I have been thinking about our landing. We still haven’t chosen the port.”

Groaning from the stiffness from long lying, to Alexander’s chuckling, John shifted under the wall and peeked at the map Alexander slid out from behind the cover of his notebook.

“We could stop at Kuovi. There is this nice place near the Shadows.”

“I miss a still bed,” he sighed. “But Kuovi is not the best option. The exchange rate from tirla to naqruna is too high. We would spend a fortune on the night’s lodging.”

“If you are so mean, we can sleep on board this one more night.”

“No, no, no,” John shook his head. “I’m going to fully use the time I am given to sleep like a man should. We can stay at Haava. The prices are lower, and we could pay in tirla.”

“Oh- you’re right. We could trade with Solberg…” He flipped the page to make notes. “But we will have to find the best worst tavern again. The one owned by Passen has closed.”

Their strategy was simple - they chose a cheap place that had doors leading from one room to another, closed both their bedrooms from the outside, then one of them sneaked out to the other’s bed. In such places, the owners rarely cared enough for it to put them in any danger, as long as they paid. Passen’s had been one of the better one’s. The love this man had for gold made him assume they wished for this kind of privacy for business matters, and they never bothered to correct him.

“It should not be that difficult, should it?” Alexander put the map aside, resting the notebook on his lap.

“It shouldn’t. And, Alex, do we still hold pressure on the bealeoi trade? We could trade for pearls. Foysen is coming.”

“You want to visit Itridosia?” Alexander frowned.

“You look so cute in fur.”

“Yes, I love to freeze to death. We can go there when I am the tsar of Gorodetsia negotiating their surrender,” he grumbled. “But you can check for some other good possibilities.”

[delicioussshame]

Sugar daddy AU: new chapter. That’s it, that’s the fic.

The world has never stopped spinning for Shen Yuan before, so why would it now?

He’s sure Luo Binghe is thrilled with his current situation. If he really wanted to create a perfect bubble where he would be the center of Shen Yuan’s universe, he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He’s been all Shen Yuan has been able to think about. The moral conundrum of considering whether you’re attracted to your former student, and if so, whether you can and should accept his affection, has been dominating his every moment. Each time he thinks that yes, he could see himself allowing this, allowing Luo Binghe the more he has so visibly been craving, he falters. In a way, it seems like a culmination of all his failures; a failed career he’s a disgrace to and a return to values he’d sworn to leave behind with his family.

But maybe, just maybe, Binghe would be worth it. Shen Yuan thinks if anyone could make those concerns seem ridiculous with only the power of their presence by his side, it would be Luo Binghe.

All his hesitations don’t stop his heart from freezing in his chest where the school sends an email regarding his teaching plan for the upcoming term.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to ride the wave of anxiety that returning to the beat of regular employment brings. He hasn’t looked forward to returning to class for years, but after those sweet weeks spent doing nothing but relaxing? Facing coworkers that were at best indifferent, at worst downright abusive for the sake of disinterested students is such an unappealing prospect that it almost gives him nausea.

He’s been too spoiled. Shen Yuan normally spends the summer working part-time jobs to make ends meet. This year, Luo Binghe had swiped all those worries away. One of the first things he’d done was tell Shen Yuan that he’d be paying his rent for now, like he would be providing for all his other needs. Shen Yuan had protested, but he’d known it was pointless. How was he supposed to stop Luo Binghe from sending money to his landlord?

Without those preoccupations, Shen Yuan had permitted himself freedom from work in general. He had spared not a thought to that most unpleasant matter. His romantic life, if it could be called that, had demanded all his attention.

Now, enough was enough. This had been fun, but Shen Yuan had a job to do. No matter how much he dreads it, he has to review his lesson plan.

Such is life.

_________________

It takes Luo Binghe only one cursory look at Shen Yuan to notice something went very, very wrong. His dear teacher is tense, hunched over his desk, hand on his forehead as if he’s trying to hold a headache at bay. Shen Yuan hasn’t appeared this stressed since he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s home. He radiates distress like he did that day, when Luo Binghe went to visit him and found him on the verge of collapse.

Back then, all he wanted was to stop that collapse.

That conviction has never faltered.

Gently, Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi?”

Shen Yuan doesn’t turn. “Binghe, not now. I’m busy.”

Luo Binghe glances at the document he’s worked on, and swears inwardly. Is all it took to reverse all the progress they made a reminder of that dreaded job?

Shen Yuan isn’t going back, and that’s final. “Why is Laoshi wasting his valuable time on this? Doesn’t he trust his Binghe?”

Shen Yuan turns toward him, annoyance visible on his face. “What does trust have to do with this?”

He stays firm. “I told Laoshi all I wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. I promised I would do anything for this to happen. His job doesn’t make him happy. Why would he return to it? He still has a few days to send his notice in time. He can leave the school behind and stay with me instead.”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Binghe, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I see no reason why Laoshi should go back when he doesn’t need to work.”

“I do need to work. I can’t rely on Binghe’s good will for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of paying for an old man and will look to buy a younger, sweeter companion.”

There is so much wrong with this sentence Luo Binghe is struck silent. Shen Yuan knows better than this. He’s just in too fool a mood to act like it.

He regains control of himself. “First, Laoshi must never talk of himself like he’s a passing fancy I feel like throwing money at. It’s insulting both to yourself and to my love for you. Second, he can rely on me however he wants to. If he’s not secure with his current position, that can be dealt with. I will happily pay whatever lawyer he chooses to draft any arrangement he deems agreeable. I can transfer him a set amount of money each week that he can manage at his discretion. I can also give him a lump sum, significant enough that if something were to happen, he could live by himself, though he’s already my will’s sole beneficiary. Work is unnecessary.”

At this, Shen Yuan shakes. “I’m sorry? Did you just say that in the event of your death, you’re leaving me everything? Me?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t know why Shen Yuan is so surprised. “Who else? Laoshi knows I have no family. I have no plan to die before Laoshi, but if it were to happen, that’s no reason not to keep my promise.” It won’t, of course. Luo Binghe won’t allow it.

���Are you serious? That’s something you do for a spouse, not a dumb childhood crush.”

He genuinely thought they were over this. “Laoshi isn’t a crush. He’s someone I’ve been in love with for since I was a teenager. Didn’t I say I wanted him by my side at all times? I planned consequently.” If Shen Yuan wants children, modifications will be made to the will, but this won’t be happening anytime soon. For now, Luo Binghe wants him all to himself.

“I… We’re not even a couple yet! Binghe is being reckless! If he’s this open, what’s stopping me from fleecing him for all he’s got and leaving him destitute!”

Luo Binghe laughs, encouraged by the “yet”. “Laoshi would never. He’s too good a man to do such a thing.”

“I could! Binghe thinks he knows me so well, but the truth is he doesn’t. He’s got this image of me as a saint, as a person without flaws nor desires, but he’s wrong. Every day, I take advantage of Binghe’s kindness.”

Shen Yuan is the one who doesn’t know himself. “Taking what’s freely offered is not taking advantage.”

“It is when no sane person would make the offer!”

“Does Laoshi think me insane, then?”

“Well, no. I know Binghe is very smart.”

“Then why not trust I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

This is going nowhere. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m making Laoshi happy by keeping him from a job that is killing him.” He sighs. “If Laoshi absolutely feels like he needs to earn his own income, I will support him until he finds a decent job, or will pay for his continued education so that he can find something better, but I would much, much prefer he doesn’t bother. It’s stress he doesn’t need, for no reason. I just cannot accept his return to a school that has only one good point: him. It’s not good for him. As I said earlier, whatever he needs as collateral to feel safe, I’m willing to provide, as long as he does what’s best for himself.”

Shen Yuan looks speechless.

Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch.

“Every time I think Binghe must be fooling himself, or fooling me, he goes and does something like this, something that no one else would do, as if to prove his honesty. He makes me feel like an idiot.”

“That must be novel. I imagine someone as wonderful as Laoshi doesn’t feel that way often.”

“Just most days of my life.”

“Then his life must change. Laoshi should only feel good.” Which is something Luo Binghe would gladly help with, no matter when and where.

He takes Shen Yuan’s hand in his; presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “Please. Don’t go.”

Silence rests heavy on his shoulders for a while, until Shen Yuan breaks. “I’ll consider it.”

Luo Binghe embraces him and decides to wait.

_________________

The notice is sent two days later.

_________________

One moment Luo Binghe is preparing to go to bed, the next Shen Yuan, still damp from the shower, sits on his lap and kisses him.

It takes Luo Binghe negative one second to respond in kind, to open his mouth and to kiss back, his arms snaking around Shen Yuan’s waist to pull him closer and keep him there. Laoshi is the one who initiated! Luo Binghe can’t allow him to take it back.

Not that it seems like he will. Shen Yuan doesn’t struggle at all as Luo Binghe deepens the kiss, as his hands find the buttons of Shen Yuan’s sleeping shirt and open a trail he follows with his mouth. His laoshi’s breath fastens as Luo Binghe acquaints himself with his chest, fingers dancing over his ribs and down the gentle curve of his back.

Such good behavior has to be rewarded.

He does lift his eyes to Shen Yuan’s before removing his pants.

His beloved doesn’t say a word as he turns his gaze away demurely, but the caress in Luo Binghe’s hair speaks volumes, as does the seductive way he opens his thighs. If Shen Yuan has finally accepted his advances, how could Luo Binghe refuse him?

There are so many things Luo Binghe dreamed of doing to his Laoshi. He wants to spend hours worshipping him, keeping him in a state of unforgiving arousal until he begs for release. He wants to prepare him carefully and take him gently, painlessly, until all of Shen Yuan’s stress has left him and he’s barely conscious. He wants to fuck him until he screams. He wants to ride him languorously, for hours on end, until his body has taken the shape of Shen Yuan and no one else’s. He wants to be tied to the bed and used until he’s crying for mercy, and then be denied that mercy. He wants to go to work wearing the mark of Shen Yuan’s teeth high on his neck proudly, knowing his laoshi is wearing the exact same mark at home. He wants to fill him up with a remote-controlled toy and bring him to ecstasy during those interminable board meetings that would at least have a purpose, for once.

But for now, all he wants is to get to know all of Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan startles when Luo Binghe presses a kiss to his rapidly filling length, but he doesn’t protest. Good for him, because Luo Binghe isn’t sure he could have stopped. Not when he finally gets to find out how he tastes, how he sounds, how beautiful he looks when he flushes from pleasure.

He moans around him when Shen Yuan’s fingers twist into his hair. Shen Yuan could fuck his throat anytime, if he wanted to. Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind choking for him.

Maybe he could overcome that reflex with practice.

He would love to try.

It takes little time for Shen Yuan to groan and try to pull him off, which is a futile endeavor. Like Luo Binghe is going to waste any gift of Shen Yuan.

He greedily swallows it all down when Shen Yuan bites back his student’s name and digs his nails into Luo Binghe’s scalp.

Luo Binghe has never been this hard. “Laoshi, Shen Yuan, please.” He’d take anything. He’d rut against his leg if Shen Yuan would allow him to. “Please.”

Shen Yuan is bright red when his beautiful hand wraps around Luo Binghe’s cock, pulling and stroking in an awkward, unexperienced hold that Luo Binghe knows he’ll never get enough of. Just the sight of those white fingers on his feverish skin is enough to enthrall him. How is he going to last when they grow skilled? He’ll embarrass himself like the teenager he isn’t anymore! Even now, it takes all he has to last a few minutes.

He thought no sight could be fairer than Shen Yuan in pleasure, but the view of his fingers and chest covered in Luo Binghe’s come is so overwhelming Luo Binghe wishes his love was the type to allow for recording. If it were his face despoiled so… Luo Binghe would probably not soften at all.

Hopefully Shen Yuan will let him.

Another time. While Luo Binghe himself could easily keep on going for the rest of the night and the day after, what has happened tonight was probably a lot to ask of shy, proper Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe tries to soothe his exaltation, instead exploding in praises and endearments for his visibly embarrassed lover.

Luo Binghe ignores his attempts at distancing himself, instead holding him in his arm until Shen Yuan quiets and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him.

_________________

Well, that happened.

It wasn’t… It was fine.

Okay, it was more than fine. One can only lie to themselves for so long. Luo Binghe is devastatingly handsome and convinced he loves Shen Yuan, for some reason. He’s not immune to that much charm!

He was kind. Shen Yuan had been as mentally prepared as he could be to find himself pushed on his back and taken, but Luo Binghe had waited.

Shen Yuan fully expects it will happen sooner or later. He’ll deal then. It will be hard on him, because quite honestly, he’s not sure anyone on Earth is built the right way to accommodate Luo Binghe, but he’ll do it. Binghe deserves it.

If he’s that serious about providing for Shen Yuan, he should get his money’s worth. Shen Yuan couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 1 ~Stories She Wrote~

PICTURE SOURCE

PART 2 OF  WONDERWALL SERIES

Hey guys, I'm back and thrilled to give you part 2 of WONDERWALL series, Miles Between Us. It is a continuation from my holiday ficlet, All I Want For Christmas Is You. If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you do if you wish to get an insight into Jamie and Claire’s history (Here is the link) Otherwise, this ficlet can also be read as a stand-alone.

I know All I Want For Christmas Is You ending was bittersweet, but it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a Part 2 in this series. I had to leave the story open to possibilities if it is to have a chance of growing. And besides, making this into a series allows me to take breaks from writing and refresh my brain in-between ficlets. So I hope this next part of the story will make up for leaving you hanging all these weeks.

Anyway, before you continue, I'd like to thank you for reading, commenting and giving feedback to my stories. They're all very appreciated even if I sometimes don't comment back. As a hobby writer, I always look forward to your response, and they spur me to continue writing. Without the readers, I wouldn't be here. So thank you for being part of my writing journey.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

So now everything is said, without further ado, I wish you all happy reading. ❤️

 Previously ...

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Fraser met and fell in love during the Holiday Seasons. Unfortunately for their budding relationship, after two weeks of a whirlwind romance, Claire has to return to London to finish some work commitment that could take a year to fulfil. It doesn't help matters that Jamie's PTSD condition prevents him from visiting her as loud city noises can trigger panic attacks. They are both in love with each other and are willing to find out where their relationship will head to. But can they find a compromise to bridge the gap of hundreds of miles to give their love a chance?

    After sitting on her bed most of Saturday working on her laptop, Claire Beauchamp rolled her neck and stretched her back, her arms extending above her head. She flinched when her joints cracked. 

Over the past few days, her boss, John Grey, forwarded manuscripts and drafts from the author she was working with. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach was beginning to grumble, and her eyes blurry from reading.

She'd read so much in the past hours, she was practically cross-eyed, and the bridge of her nose hurt where her specs rested. Words upon words had sifted through her brain, but now the lines were beginning to blur together.

She glanced back down on her laptop and opened a file in her document folder, her eyes scanning through lines she knew by heart. She'd been going through her own work lately wondering if she had what it takes to be a writer. Someone who would give her an honest opinion ought to read it before contemplating getting herself a literary agent if she was to start a new chapter of her life and take that leap of faith in her dream career.

A sudden urgency took over, and she needed Annalise to read her work, like right now. Which reminded Claire, her friend was away with Willie, shopping and sight-seeing. He was staying over their place for the weekend for the first time since she and Annalise left Lallybroch. After declining their invitation to join them earlier, the loved-up couple left her to her work with the promise of dinner when they returned.

She was about to reach out for her cold coffee from the bedside table when Raiders of the Lost Ark's theme song blared from her phone. At the same time, a picture of her uncle Lamb appeared on the screen. He was wearing a high-crowned, wide-brimmed, weather-beaten fedora hat and had a lopsided grin plastered to his thickly stubbled face. Rugged, she thought, just like her favourite pair of distressed leather boots, and very Indiana Jones.

Smiling, she tapped the answer button and put the phone on speaker. "Uncle Lamb! Long time no speak!" 

"Sweetheart," he started in a deep familiar voice, "how are you?"

She frowned and pushed her laptop aside. Something was off. "Oh you know, same old ...just finishing work and ..." 

"On a Saturday?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled. "You're young. You should be out. There are so many things to do in London ...especially on a Saturday. "

Claire rolled her eyes but opted to change the subject instead. She wasn't ready to give her reason for working overtime nor share her future plans nor talk about the handsome Scot she met during her holidays. Not just yet, anyway. "So ...to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice, dear uncle?"

"What?" he said gruffly, pretending to sound offended. "Can't I call my favourite girl in the world and check up on her?" 

She mentally sighed. Something must be up since her uncle never called. It was always she who usually phoned, and when he did call on a rare occasion, it was either because something had happened or he was in London. She dismissed the latter since she knew he was in Papua New Guinea. The next conclusion she landed on was his health but thought it absurd. Her uncle was strong as an ox, ate healthily, only smoked the occasional cigar and regularly went for doctor's check-up, a requirement in his job as an archaeologist travelling to remote places.

Unless. "You sound suspiciously chipper. Let me guess ...you met someone. There's a woman in your life." 

He coughed like he was choking on a drink. "No! Why would you say that?" 

Alright, he sounded repulsed by the idea enough. Or was that denial? "I don't know. You seem so ...how shall I say it ...unlike yourself. You normally skip the niceties and get to the point." 

He lets out an impatient breath. "Claire, darling, am I really that awful?"

"No," she replied, ignoring the ache in her throat. She missed their time together but tried not to make it apparent in her tone. He was a busy man, and the last thing she wanted was her uncle worrying. "You don't seem like you're rushing off to anywhere. It's rare you sound this relax."

"It's way past my bedtime already," he sighed. "And besides, work is on stand-by at the moment until we get the license to start digging on site. People here are so damn laid back, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to process the paperwork. I'm not about to hand out cash to speed things along even if bribery is rampant here."

"I see. So you're in Port Moresby then?"

"Yes. As soon as we have the license sorted out, we'll be flying to Lae first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of paperwork, I received an email from my lawyer. Your trust fund has matured, dear. I'll send you the details where to go to and who to contact, and maybe you can start planning your life. Perhaps take a sabbatical and travel with me if you wish."

Ah yes, the trust fund. 

After her parents died, everything they had owned was put into her trust fund by her uncle to secure her future. She'd already received a small lump sum when she turned eighteen, and the money had afforded her, though small and cramped, a decent rental two-bedroom apartment in London with high windows, which was premium in this expensive city. And Annalise, her best friend and roommate made enough money to help pay the ridiculous expensive utility bills. Her own wage just about covered the other expenses with almost nought left for savings, but she hadn't worried knowing there was money in place in her name. She was counting on it to support herself when she pursued her dreams of writing.

"About that, I think I'll let that sit in the bank for a while. It's not like I need the money right now, nor do I have the time to spend it."

"As you wish," her uncle replied. "And another thing I need to discuss with you ...South Lodge ..."

"What about South Lodge?" South Lodge should have been her family home if her parents hadn't died, and she knew it was a highly coveted property because of its historical significance. It was never put into the market for sale since her uncle thought it wasn't his place to decide. It was put on a twenty-year lease to a high profile politician, its payments going towards her trust fund.

"The lease is up, and the occupants will be moving out soon. Unfortunately for you, that information made it to the local news and you were mentioned as the legatee. So don't be surprised if you're bombarded with offers now that your name is out. I'm willing to bet, property investors and developers will be itching to get their hands on it."

Claire took off her specs and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hated adulting, paperwork and dealings with lawyers. Maybe she should just sell South Lodge and be done with it, so she could concentrate on her future plans. What do I need a five-bedroom house with one acre of garden in Oxford for? "I'll think about it, uncle. I just have a lot of things going on at the moment. I'm quite sure those things can wait."

"Of course dear."

"Thank you for letting me know." She thought of Jamie, and the Highlands and how much life was a lot simpler there. She really needed to double her effort to tie up loose ends in London and have a heart to heart talk with Annalise. Is her relationship with Willie serious? If not, her friend would have to eventually find a new roommate. After quickly glancing at her bedside clock, she realised they would be here soon and hopefully with a takeaway. Annalise did mention something about sorting dinner out tonight.

"And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Your upbringing hasn't been the most ideal. Enjoy the money and treat yourself. Don't spend your life doing things that don't bring you joy."

She smiled. Her uncle must have had a rude awakening of some sort to sound so philosophical. Or probably, he did meet someone special. Either way, she wasn't going to push for any answers for now. She really needed to get out of bed, do a few stretches and have a shower before Annalise, and Willie arrived. "I'll try," she finally said.

"Good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."

"Sadly, yes." She shut her laptop and got out of bed. "Take care of yourself, alright? And I'll phone you sometime next week after I've figured out our time differences." 

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Talk soon." 

"Love you, uncle Lamb." 

"Love you, too." 

She terminated the call with a swipe on her screen and rubbed her eyes. She'd been working for seven hours straight, and her eyeballs felt like they're made of sandpaper. Glancing at the corner table, she smiled when she saw Jamie's gifts. Willie had brought them with him when he arrived last night from Inverness. She knew Jamie was making up for his absence, but it couldn't be helped when there's the danger of his PTSD condition worsening in the city. To her delight and surprise, he'd sent her a leather-bound journal, a framed selfie photo of them together, driftwood bookends he made and a box of her favourite Lindt chocolate.

With a contented sigh, she made a mental note to call Jamie after dinner. And to ask her boss first thing Monday morning if she could take her work to Scotland the following weekend to surprise her boyfriend. After all, she was just taking her uncle's advice, and after the work, she'd put in the last couple of weeks, and the extra hours she planned to do the next few days, she deserved a little joy in her life.

..........

Claire leaned forward, and nervously examined her best friend's face. Annalise was hunched down, scrolling her laptop, tongue darting out as she read the paragraphs on the screen. 

What's that look for? Doesn't she like it? She couldn't tell. It was the first time she's showing her work to anyone, one of the stories she had written during her spare time before embarking a career as an editorial assistant for Dreamcatcher Publishing Company. She needed to hear her friend's opinion to know if she even had a small chance of becoming a writer.

Annalise took her sweet time, and Claire wasn't sure if her inscrutable expression was a deliberate act to prolong the suspense, or if she genuinely had no reaction to what she's reading. If it was the latter, Claire would definitely kiss her dream of being a writer goodbye. If it's the former, she's going to strangle her friend for making her suffer. 

She heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sound of keys jangling and heavy footfalls, announcing the arrival of Willie. He'd stopped by to order some food at a local Indian takeaway while Annalise headed straight home to prepare the table for dinner. Instead of calling out to him, she held her breath for Annalise's response. 

Just when Claire was starting to accept her hope of being a writer would never amount to anything other than a pipe dream, she saw the reaction she impatiently waited for. Annalise's mouth formed a comical O, followed by her eyes' widening and random shallow sighs. 

Yessssssss! 

This was massive. Despite Annalise having seen works from established authors Claire had edited for, she'd never witnessed her friend looked this excited. Annalise simply couldn't hide her gobsmacked expression, even if she tried.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered, her gaze flicking to Claire and then back to the screen. "Why didn't you tell me you had this? I knew you wanted to be a writer, but this ..."

"So?" 

Annalise took a massive deep breath, her fingers almost shaking. "Oh my God, Claire." 

"Oh my God, wot? Oh my God good or oh my God, bad?" Claire asked, even though she already knew deep in her bones, what the answer was. But she desperately needed to hear the words.

"This is bloody good," she said, as she went back to a previous page, and reread it all over again. After a couple of minutes more, a slow smile started to spread across her face, as she stole a few cheeky glances over at Claire.

Claire knew she could rely on her friend to tell her the truth. If her work had been bad, friend or not, Annalise would have been forthright and told her the hard facts. Nevertheless, she tamped down her own growing excitement. "The question is though ...is it good enough for the mass?" 

Without hesitation, Annalise nodded vigorously, her blue eyes big as saucers. "Oh, Claire, are you kidding me? You really have no idea, have you? Of course, it is! I need to read the rest. Please tell me it's finished." 

Claire relaxed for the first time and slumped back against the headboard of her bed, relief soothing her wild heartbeat. "It's finished."

Annalise let out a whoop as she gripped the laptop tightly. "Oh my God! Give me everything ...I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't read at least one more chapter of this story." 

"I've got ten more finished materials."

"Oh my God, oh my God! You're killing me. I want it all."

Willie poked his head by the frame of the doorway to her bedroom and eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure what he expected to find, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Annalise's flushed face. 

"What are ye both up to?" he asked, frowning. "Ye sound like ye're looking at porn on the internet." 

Annalise grinned and motioned him over. "Sort of." 

Willie hesitantly entered the room. "Sorry?"

"In actual fact, much better than porn ..." Annalise announced, smirking at Claire.

"Annalise!" Claire wheezed when it dawned on her, her friend must have been reading the sex scene part.

Annalise reached out and reassuringly squeezed Claire's hand whilst looking at Willie. "Take a look at this. Claire wrote it."

Annalise handed the laptop to Willie, and both of them earnestly watched his face to gauge his reaction. As he sat down on the edge of the bed and read, Claire knew he would be the real test. Willie being a bloke, she didn't expect him to have the same reaction as Annalise, but she hoped he would appreciate the storyline and plot. Claire already understood, if her story was going to be good enough to be published, its success would be based on women's purchasing power. If he liked her style of writing even a smidgen, then she would be laughing. 

Claire held her breath in anxious anticipation, and approximately a minute and a half later, she got her response. 

His eyes bulged out, and then the tips of his ears glowed with red. In all sort of ways, he was so similar to Jamie but yet so different. But there's no mistaking how vibrantly their ears always lit up when they're embarrassed. Or moved. 

"Kind of explicit," he commented hoarsely, before tucking a tongue into his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. "But it is an intriguing story with great flow and interesting characters. It's no' the genre I would typically read, but the first few paragraphs of what I've seen so far are riveting. It makes me want to read more."

Annalise, enthusiastically nodded in agreement and waved a hand in the air. "There it is." 

"Ye have a gift, Claire," Willie added, eyes still fixed on the screen and working overtime as his focus became more intense. "The dose of mystery ye've woven into the lines is remarkable and intelligent."

She felt herself beaming in vindication. "Thank you." 

He briefly glanced up at her. "Now that I remember, Jamie did vaguely mention ye wanted to be a writer."

"That's the plan," she beamed.

"Good. Because if ye can produce something like this, then yer talent is wasted on editing other people's work."

"She's got ten more finished stories," Annalise piped in.

Willie arched an eyebrow at Claire and continued reading, and when he finished, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Is Jamie the inspiration for this story?"

Her face heated. "I ...ah ...wrote that years ago. And ...um, I've revised and edited it a million times in the past. I wanted Annalise to read it first and find out if it's good enough to be published."

Annalise grinned at Willie, still looking a little flush like she was having a physical reaction to the few lines she'd read earlier. "So what do you think?"

Willie didn't miss Annalise's excited reaction to the story. "It's verra good but I didnae realised graphic scenes affected ye so much. Ye're beet red!" 

"Only when it's very well written," Annalise smirked, taking the laptop from his hands and moving towards him to sit on his lap. 

Willie pulled Annalise closer and kissed her, and Claire sighed. It's both beautiful and terrible being in the presence of people, so in love. While she's ecstatic to see her best friend smitten and happy, it made her sad that Jamie couldn't be here with her. She missed him terribly, and it's only been a fortnight since she had last seen him.

After a few seconds of watching them unashamedly snogged in front of her, Claire clapped her hands, and they both immediately pulled away. "Right, that's enough you two. So, where's the dinner I was promised?"

Suddenly looking self-conscious, Willie promptly lifted Annalise from his lap, plonked her down onto the bed and jumped up, and Claire couldn't help but grin at him.

"Right on it," he muttered, before disappearing from her bedroom.

Annalise laughed and playfully shoved her shoulder. "Passion killer."

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved. 

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too. Who knew, maybe, after reading it, he would be as fired up as Willie and Annalise. 

After hearing the whoosh of the email sent, Claire launched herself off the bed to join her friends, looking forward to Jamie's reaction later and daydreaming of a future in Scotland with her love.

[ohbeaby]

So the all of the boys we have met really are just rich. The only one who isn’t is probably Mammon but even he is only in debt due to some of his strange spending habits.

So this is just a silly little thought about how the boys might react to an MC who isn’t very rich at all and has habits to save money.

Clothes:

While they all take decent care of their clothes they also tend to just throw them out if a hole is made or a stain appears. Belphie might keep his longer out of sheer laziness but it’s not like he’s trying to fix any of the issues with his clothes he’s just too lazy to go get more.

MC probably has a small sewing kit and some tricks to get stains out of just about any fabric. The brothers try to throw clothes away and Mc swoops in your save the lightly used fabric from the garbage. They also have a small collection of patches and fabric strips that they give to Levi if he needs extra material for his cosplays. All the saved clothes get returned to the brothers who are very confused as to how the holes all got patched up and WHY MC would bother patching them.

This spills over into Purgatory Hall when MC learns Solomon keeps ruining his clothes in different disasters. The issue is the word disaster clearly has different meanings to everyone because MC just about loses it when they learn that the “disastrous” state of his clothes is just some tears and some small spots where a potion spilled.

All the boys confront MC at some point about why they keep fixing their clothes and MC just explains that they find it wasteful to throw the fabrics away when they could easily be repaired and maintained. They’re all mildly impressed but don’t say anything, though there is a distinct lack of clothes being thrown away after everything is done and some even come to MC for repairs.

Food/Soaps/Jewelry/Bedding:

So when MC first got there no one really paid attention to what they were buying for themselves. The brothers simply didn’t care because it’s just some human. As they get to know MC more though they start to pay attention and realize that MC isn’t exactly buying the highest quality in anything. I imagine Lucifer might be the first to actually say something.

MC: I think I want to get some hot coco.

Lucifer: Yes that doesn’t sound nice. Some milk and cream with coco powder- What are you doing?

MC: *holding up a box of instant hot coco* This is what I usually get. Just add some hot water and it’s okay.

Lucifer: *internally screaming at how terrible that sounds compared to what he was imagining* Do you...not know how to make hot coco?

MC: *laughing* Oh I know! It’s just more expensive than this.

Lucifer makes sure to accompany them on their grocery shopping trips and tries to get them to be a bit more open to buying more expensive cuts of meat or cheeses. He just wants them to enjoy some of the nicer things they feel comfortable indulging in.

Asmodeous probably has a heart attack when he realizes MC is just buying the most affordable shampoos and body washes. Poor boy isn’t able to comprehend that MC doesn’t want to drop 100’s of dollars on soaps.

Asmo: But look at how many harsh chemicals are in there MC! Your poor hair isn’t going to feel healthy at all!

MC: I mean...it gets my hair clean yeah? So it’s fine.

Asmo: At least get a body scrub! They help make your skin feel so soft!

MC: Is there one not quite as expensive? The one in your hand is a bit more than I expected.

Asmo: ...I don’t know what’s in the cheaper ones though. They probably don’t have as much moisturizer.

MC: Soooo I don’t need it?

Asmo: *screeching because he doesn’t know how to convey what the issue is*

Asmo takes time to find more affordable products that at least have a similar quality to his high end taste. He doesn’t like it but he does know he can’t force MC to buy the products he would normally use.

Mammon is VERY confused when MC is looking at jewelry of some kind but it’s like glass or shiny plastic instead of actual crystals or diamonds.

MC: Oh these charms are cool! Look there’s a crow!

Mammon: I mean...I guess? They aren’t real crystals or anything though. Looks like hard plastic.

MC: Eh? Why does that matter? *laughing* I’m just window shopping anyways.

Mammon: Window shopping?

MC: You know? When you’re just looking around but not actually going to buy?

Mammon: But if you want it why not just get it?

MC: These charms are each more expensive than my average meal! I can’t just drop that kind of money on little trinkets!

He’s probably the most understanding about all of it since he gets not having money. The realization that MC doesn’t actively seek out anything remotely expensive turns him to trying to save up more money to get them nice things.

Leviathan is probably the one to make MC the most uncomfortable with his spending habits. He is known to spend egregious amounts of money on things that don’t have an actual function aside from just being part of a collection. MC on the other hand will buy little knock off things like key chains or stickers because they don’t want to spend so much on the official merchandise but they still like whatever show or game it is. MC also knows how to make their own cosplays and repurpose things for props and accessories.

MC: *showing Leviathan some cute little charm from Pokemon or something* I love this one it’s so cute. I wanted to get the set but that was quite a bit more!

Leviathan: *sees it and knows immediately that it’s knock off and not even close to official merch* The colors aren’t even close! Look it doesn’t even look like the original character!

MC: I mean it’s pretty close. Maybe it’s just hard to make that color?

Levi: Why not just get the official merch?? It’s much better quality

MC: But the official is ten times more expensive. I think this looks close enough.

Levi: ...okay look I THINK I have an extra set with that character in it.

MC: ...extra set??

Levi: Well I buy more than one so I can sell them later.

MC: More than one??????

Leviathan makes it a goal of his to get MC whatever merch he can for their interests. He doesn’t like the idea that MC just settles for lower quality stuff just because they don’t think they should buy it. This is HIS Henry after all, only the best quality for them.

Satan also struggles hard trying to understand MCs spending habits. He prefers to get new books when he can as he doesn’t like the idea of buying a used book that someone ruined (ie. the corners have small bends or there’s a pencil mark in them, he has high standards for his books lol). The only exception he has is older books that are limited quantity. He gets frustrated when he sees MC carrying books around that look like they’ve been through hell and back in his eyes. He initially thinks MC is the one ruining their own books.

Satan: Really? The semester started a week ago and your books already look this bad?

MC: Bad? I thought I got a good deal on them.

Satan: Well when you bend the corners like that of course they look bad. Is that a coffee stain? Really?

MC: What? We haven’t even gotten to these sections yet. I’m not sure what you’re issue with my books is.

Satan: Well why are the pages all bent here of you haven’t gotten to these sections yet? Are you just incapable of taking care of your stuff?

MC: Maybe it was the previous owner? I take care of my stuff, don’t even try and pull that card.

Satan: ...previous owner? Like you’ve just gone and bought a used book? Why?

MC: Well actually it’s a rental, it was cheaper than-

Satan: RENTAL?!

Satan then insists that he buys MC all new books despite their protests. He isn’t going to sit around and let them use older books if it can be helped though he does start to understand why MC doesn’t mind used books when they show them places with discounted or even free textbooks and PDFs. It’s kind of handy to not have to pay a large sum for a physical copy when he can just have a free PDF of an older version on his laptop.

Beelzebub starts questioning what the humans habits are when he takes them shopping in place of Lucifer and sees them picking up instant noodles and coffee. He may be willing to eat almost anything but even he knows that stuff doesn’t taste the best and can’t be the healthiest for them.

Beelzebub: What about this brand? It’s got those little veggies in it.

MC: But it’s three times the price. I can just chop up some chives and put it in this for cheaper.

Beel: Why does the price matter?

MC: I don’t like spending too much if I can help it. Oh! They have frozen pizzas!

Beel: *increasingly concerned about the humans poor eating habits*

Beel probably starts taking them out to restaurants more or trying to rope them into cooking with him. He isn’t sure if they just don’t know what good food looks like or what their deal is so he’s just going to try and show them and hope they get the hint. He does avoid eating anything healthy they bought, like yogurts or frozen fruit.

Belphegor. King of sleep. Ruler of comfort. The one you know KNOWS how to take a good nap. He is absolutely pissed when he sees MCs room for the first time, most importantly their bed. The pillows look awful and the sheets are the cheapest ones you can get at the store. He confronts his brothers about the humans poor sleeping arrangements to which they all say “it’s what they chose when they first got here.”

Belphie: No. Unacceptable. Throw it away.

MC: You’re being ridiculous, I’m not throwing my pillows away.

Belphie: They don’t even have a shape they’re so flat! You have no comfort standards!

MC: My bed is comfy!

Belphie: The only comfortable part is the mattress which is also the only thing you didn’t choose.

MC: What’s wrong with the rest of it?!

Belphie: Those sheets are scratchy, the blanket is thinner than a piece of paper, those pillows look sadder than a kicked puppy, do I really need to go on?

MC: You’re being completely unreasonable.

Belphie drags Asmo and Mammon to the store to get MC a whole new bed set and even insists on getting them a new mattress. MC gets barred from their room for a few days until everything is set up. Belphie cares, he just wants MC to be comfortable, it’s important to him that MC sleeps well.

Overall I think the boys will learn to be a little more accepting of MCs habits. They also become increasingly more aware of how much richer they are than them and try to make MC as comfortable as they can.

[prorevenge]

Coworker tried to get me fired over breast implants, so I pulled a reverse uno card.

4 years ago now, when I was 24, my mum died of breast cancer, and as both my grandmothers had also died of it I saw a specialist for a screening. I found out I had some cells in one of my breasts that could have turned cancerous at any given moment.

I was told I had a few options:

I could have regular screenings every 3 or 4 months until it does develop into cancer (I was told the risk of the cells becoming cancerous was very high due to family history) but it could also potentially never could turn so I'd just be getting these screenings for no reason

I could get a single mastectomy on the breast with the bad cells, but they'd need to keep an eye on the other one, so I'd still need regular checkups for the other breast

I could get a bilateral mastectomy and remove all of my breast tissue, basically eliminating the risk.

I went for the bilateral mastectomy. It was admittedly the most drastic option but after seeing what cancer did to my mum and grandmothers I didn't want to risk it.

I was warned about scarring but told it should be fairly minor. It wasn't and I was left with 2 huge, pink, jagged scars on either side of my chest, each about an inch long and half an inch wide, and it caused me to go into a severe depression, where it got to the stage of me not even leaving my flat because I didn't want people to see me, throwing out my mirrors, and getting physically sick looking at myself.

I went to a therapist, who suggested a plastic surgeon. The therapist said they'd never normally do that but it was clearly something I was struggling with and I might never get over it, and the therapist could see why I struggle with it. Although I'll admit the therapist did send me to ask about scar reduction. The plastic surgeon suggested a cream, a laser or implants. The cream didn't work, and the laser was both expensive and risky, so I went with the implants. My natural boobs were an F cup so I went with a slightly smaller DD. Since then my mental health has improved and I feel a lot better about the way I look. My confidence has gone up, as has my self esteem. I know I shouldn't put so much into my appearance but I wasn't exaggerating about these scars. Huge, bright pink, jagged, raised, just really awful to look at and I hated seeing myself, and they are now nicely hidden away and you can barely feel them.

​

In the present day, I'm 28 years old and working in an office. I'm doing a lot better than I was. My coworker, Jill, found out I'd had a boob job (but not about the cancer thing), when myself and my friend from years before the mastectomy were planning a holiday and she made a joke about me going on a plane with my implants, and Jill overheard. By the end of the day, the entire office knew I'd had a boob job, but not why, and half a dozen people confirmed Jill had told them.

Over the next few months Jill made many "jokes" and comments about my chest to coworkers when I was in earshot, at one point saying I had "more plastic than Barbie" and calling me "fake in two ways". I didn't hear this one myself but a friend in the office told me that Jill had at one point referred to me as a "sack of silicone".

IDK what her problem was exactly but at one point she mentioned the NHS so I assume Jill thought that I'd got my tits done for free on taxpayer money (I'd gotten the mastectomy on NHS but gone private for therapy and implants).

I asked her to stop more than once, but unfortunately the places I'd talked to her were places like the lift and the women's bathroom, where there weren't any cameras, and Jill just kept making comments no matter how often I asked her not to. I wouldn't say it was every single day, but I heard at least 3 comments per week for 3 months.

I hit my breaking point when me, Jill and a few other coworkers were having lunch, I referred to something as being shallow and Jill said "you'd know all about being shallow" while gesturing to my chest. I snapped.

I said "do you know why I have these? A few years ago the doctors found potentially cancerous cells in my breast tissue, I was advised to get a mastectomy and was left with huge ugly scars on my chest. I went to see a therapist who sent me to a cosmetic surgeon, who advised me to get implants to hide the scars, and I did just so I could look at myself in the mirror without crying. So maybe next time you want to judge someone for having cosmetic surgery, you should ask them why they had it first". And feeling like that was a mic drop moment I picked up my food and left.

For the rest of the day I had about 1/3 of my office come up to me and offer support, and the rest tell me that Jill was just joking around and I was being a bitch. I replied that Jill was being a bitch long before I was.

I then got an email from HR saying they wanted to talk to me the following day, and when I called for clarification they mentioned a "hostile work environment" (note: this is apparently an American term and holds little weight in England but it's what was said over the phone). I knew the person who signed off the email and I'd spoken to. Her name was Debbie, and she was Jill's friend in HR so I was fairly confident on who had reported me.

​

I realised that if this was already being sent to HR, I needed as much ammunition as possible, so I went about collecting my information.

As Debbie had dealt with me so far, it was safe to assume she would be the person reviewing the complaint with me, and if that was true I was fucked. However, I vaguely remembered a section on complaints that was in my contract when I first signed with the company. I flicked through the contract and there was a part in complaints section that said I was contractually allowed to request a change of reviewer if I felt my allocated reviewer was biased. It was called an "impartial overseer". I photocopied the page and highlighted that part.

Then I messaged the people who had offered their support over facebook, and said basically "HR have asked to see me. Do any of you remember Jill insulting me to your face and are you willing to write and sign something saying what you heard and when?". Not everyone was willing to help as Jill is somewhat feared in the office due to her befriending HR and management but about 20 people were willing to help me.

I guessed roughly when I'd asked Jill to stop previously (the 4 asks over the last few months, some timings were easy to guess as they'd happened on my break or when I'd first arrived at work) and I wrote them all down, along with a rough time of when the lunchroom confrontation happened and a list of names of who was there for the lunchroom confrontation.

​

I got to work slightly early the next morning. I went round everyone who had messaged me and most of them managed to give me a printed and signed letter (some didn't manage to write one but nbd). This isn't exact words as there's 16 letters to sum up here but the gist was:

"My name is [their name]. I work with Jill Lastname and OP. On [date] at [time] (approx), I spoke with Jill Lastname, during which she referred to OP as [quoted insult]. I felt this was inappropriate as it directly related to OP's appearance and am willing to go on record further to establish that Jill Lastname has been discussing OP in the workplace in the same manner for 3 months now, causing me discomfort and creating what I feel is a hostile work environment. Signed [their name]"

I wound up with about 16 letters, all from different people, and one of them was in the lunchroom for my conversation with Jill. Some even had bulletpointed lists of everything Jill had said to them about me or other people, as it turns out Jill has issues with a lot of people's appearances. She apparently made comments about one coworker's weight, and something antisemitic about a different coworker's nose, all of which were put in these letters. There are about 45 people in the office so while 16 wasn't a majority, it's still a decent amount. The letters weren't hugely long, most were only a paragraph, but they had all the necessary information.

​

I was asked to come to HR at 10am. I took the letters from coworkers, the photocopy of the page in my contract, and my dates and times in a little folder with me.

I got there and Debbie was the one overseeing the interview. She got up from her desk, ready to lead me into another room.

I immediately turned to the other HR worker that was currently there and said "so is my meeting with you, then?"

Debbie said "no, you're with me."

I replied that this wouldn't sit well with me, as "my contract states I have a right to an impartial overseer" and as I said this I took the contract page out of my folder. Debbie read it (I wouldn't let her take the paper when there was a shredder so close by) and said she could be impartial. I replied that I really didn't mean to be a pain, but I had it on good authority that the person on the other end of this complaint is her friend, and my contract does say I'm allowed an impartial overseer.

Debbie stomped off to get Supervisor. Supervisor asks how I know she can't be impartial and I tell him that I have it on good authority that the Jill, who was on the other end of this complaint, is a close friend of Debbie. He asked Debbie if this was true, to which she only replied "I can be impartial".

Supervisor took a deep breath, asked the other HR rep to come with him, and the four of us all went to review the complaint. I thanked them for being so accommodating (I was worried I'd annoyed them), Debbie took out the complaint and all 3 of them went through it with me. Debbie looked homicidal the whole time the interview was happening, as she had clearly anticipated firing me (or at least recommending me being fired).

​

The interview went something like this. It took like over half an hour and they kept asking me the same questions but phrased different ways so this is a really drastically condensed version.

Q: You said outside that you think Jill Lastname reported you. Why is this?

A: Jill has had an issue with me for about 3 months now

Q: Why didn't you come to us when you realised Jill had an issue?

A: I had no issue with her

Q: What issue does Jill have with you?

A: Four years ago a specialist identified potentially cancerous cells in my breast tissue. I had surgery to remove my breast tissue, thereby removing the cells and the risk. After the surgery I was left with large scars on my chest. I went to a therapist for low self esteem and depression. The therapist suggested a plastic surgeon who suggested breast implants to cover my scars. All of this is in my medical history which you have a copy of in my file and my full permission to review. Jill found out about my breast implants but didn't know about the cancer. Jill had a problem with my breast implants, and decided to communicate this problem to our coworkers.

Q: Why do you feel this is true?

A: Here's 16 signed statements all from different coworkers, all testifying that Jill told the entire office I'd had breast implants on the day she found out and has since made comments about these implants frequently. They have quotes of what Jill said to them about it and rough dates and times.

Q: Rough dates and times?

A: No one knew this would be escalated to such an extent so no one really took notes as and when it happened.

Q: What event or events do you think directly led to this complaint of harassment?

A: For me harassment began when Jill told everyone about my breast implants without my consent, but as to the complaint placed against me, it would probably be what happened at about [time] yesterday in the lunch room. Jill made a comment about me being shallow while gesturing to my breasts and I replied by giving her an abridged version of my relevant medical history and ending with a comment about the importance of getting the full story. There are cameras in the lunch room, so I'm sure you'll be able to find that conversation. I'll admit I could have handled the situation better, but after 3 months I felt I had to put my foot down. Here's a list of names of people who were also present. There were 6 people at the table, including myself and Jill. One of these people is also in those letters, and has written their account of the conversation and signed it.

Q: Had you had a conversation with Jill prior to this regarding her comments about you?

A: Several, spaced out over the last 3 months. Each time I communicated to her that I felt uncomfortable and upset with these comments she was making and would appreciate it if she were to stop.

Q: To your knowledge, was Jill made aware of your former cancer at any point in this time?

A: No. It wasn't mentioned in the conversation with my friend she overheard and I didn't tell her because frankly it's none of her business and I did not feel the need to detail my medical history to a coworker in order to avoid further sexual harassment.

Supervisor stands up and says "well I think we're done here". He shakes my hand and sends me back to my desk saying that I'd hear from them after they reviewed the evidence (letters, CCTV, medical history and anything they had already) and made a decision on the case.

​

I got back to my desk, pulled up my CV, and prepared to start the job search again.

About an hour goes by, then the person who wrote the letter and was there for the lunchroom conversation gets called for a meeting with HR. They come back 10ish minutes later.

The other people who were also there for the lunchroom conversation get called one by one, except Jill. All of them are gone for about 10 minutes then come back, find a coworker, and say that HR wants to see them.

Then the people who wrote letters but weren't there yesterday are also called one by one and are each gone for about 10 minutes each, some longer, some shorter. By about 3:30 it looks like everyone who wrote a letter or was there in the lunch room has been interviewed.

Then, finally, Jill gets called in. She's gone for about 30 minutes and comes back fuming. She glares at me while I work, but I ignore her.

4:30ish, Jill gets called into HR again. 5 pm rolls around, everyone is either leaving or getting ready to leave, when Jill storms back into the office. She glares at me the whole time she packs up her desk. She then starts telling anyone who will listen that I got her fired before shoving her way onto the lift.

An email comes in from HR. My case is closed.

(source) story by (/u/3240278189)

[tiger-tally]

My conflicted feelings on Jimo Shenming de Xinyuan Shouji (寂寞神明的心愿手记/”The Lonely Divinity’s Journal of Wishes“)

I’ve played to the end of one route now and decided I’d rather just spoil myself instead of playing the rest. A TL;DR of my feelings:

Is it worth the asking price? Yes.

Is it enjoyable? Uhhhhh

The long version, with spoilers:

The Good

The CGs are consistently beautiful and they are many. Most of them would make perfectly good desktop wallpapers.

The game is surprisingly sexy. There’s suggestive CGs for everybody and plenty of taking advantage of stereo sound for “moaning/kissing next to your ear” effects. There’s definitely sexual harass-y bits and love interests being possessive, but the one sex scene I got to was actually good about consent--”I’ll stop if you tell me to, but until then >:]“

The heroine is quite good. Unfortunately she still has the common heroine traits of absurd levels of self-sacrifice and blushing a lot at sexually harassing dudes, but she’s capable, emotionally mature, and at least gets to snark back now and then. By the standard of otome games I’ve played, she’s definitely up there.

On a high level the story of the game is pretty interesting. I liked how there aren’t good/bad endings, but sun/moon endings that more represent whether the heroine is willful or passive. From what I’ve been spoiled on regarding the endings, this seems to map to endings that are harder but honest and...honorable, and endings that are more romantic, yet with the underlying uneasiness of some level of self-surrender.

The Mixed

The voice acting is extremely uneven. A bunch of the LIs’ VAs try way too hard to do this seductive louche mumbly drawl and it makes them sound ridiculous, though they actually sounded much better in the serious dramatic scenes where they weren’t desperate to sound sexy. Out of the five LIs, I’d say that two are consistently good, one sounds decent normally but lowkey unhinged when he’s trying to be emotional, and two sounded awful when they were trying to be sexy but honestly were pretty good when they weren’t.

You absolutely get your money’s worth in terms of playtime. This is mixed because...

The Bad

The best way I can describe it is...this game is just consistently less than the sum of its parts.

The individual art assets are beautiful. But in the game itself, you have these really stylized Chinese-influenced backgrounds next to realistic-side-of-anime character sprites next to cartoony animals/spirits, and some of the CGs are clearly drawn by different artists, who are consistently skilled, but aren’t always consistent with the finer points of the character designs.

The love interests feel like five sexy character traits stapled together. This dude is a doctor and a master chef and an imperial uncle and a rake and a sword! And so on. That’s not to say they can’t be charming at times, and it gets a bit better later in the game (hours and hours and hours later in the game) with more time spent on developing the character, but there’s no dude I’d say I particularly liked. (Well, there was the evil sexy mentor, who’s appealing maybe precisely because he doesn’t overstay his welcome, but he’s not an LI.) I ended up picking a LI to do the route of solely because he looked like decent replacement meal for my beloved Wu Zixu (it didn’t really work.)

The game tries to use a whole bunch of mobile gacha game elements in a standalone game and it just doesn’t work. You have all these chapters that are more like case-of-the-week episodes with their own self-contained subplots, and you win resources for doing well at the investigation in the episodes, and you spend those resources on this gacha system for gifts to give to raise relationship values with a particular dude. But that means you spend like half the game stuck with 1-2 out of the 5 LIs while focusing on side characters that range from boring to obnoxious to wtf, and even though the game tries to give you moments of fluffy interaction with your dude of choice starting from the second chapter, it’s structurally more limited in its ability to do so than a mobile game, and those moments aren’t that satisfying either.

The script is so long that all the actually kind of interesting stuff is buried after hours and hours of boredom. That exciting ending system? Is designed so that you have to replay the game from basically the opening chapters to get both a character’s endings. The route split was more than a dozen hours in for me, btw. And the process is filled with mechanics like timed choices and the aforementioned gacha rolls that drag out the replay even with a skip option. And I don’t think it’s possible, or at least it’s very difficult, to fill out more than two LIs’ relationship bars in a single run (which is necessary to have them as an option at the route split), so you can’t even be more efficient with your ending-getting. The ending I got to was actually conceptually interesting...and I’m curious about the endings I’ve been spoiled on...but the thought of going through that entire common route 3-4 more times to see all ten endings kills my brain cells.

The above issues would largely be forgivable if the actual scene-level writing were good, but it’s not. I guessed a whole bunch of character reveals ages before the game actually revealed them. The case-of-the-week sideplots that were supposed to be touching made me cringe. The route I picked’s idea of romance is the dude throwing jewelry and dresses and limited edition shaomai at me. I did not enjoy sitting through the vast majority of this game.

I got spoiled that the entire game is all secretly just a dream world created by two of the characters, which was maybe fresh the first time the twist was done...but here I’m so unimpressed that it’s just like “yeah, this entire route plays like fictional bullshit, sounds about right.” I don’t care about how epic the truth might be when it requires me to sit through 20 hours of boredom and then basically invalidates those 20 hours of boredom. Also the true true endings aren’t actually in the game--they’re in a free DLC that hasn’t been released yet.

So, like...I can acknowledge this game is ambitious. It’s certainly very pretty. I get why someone might consider this a good or even great game. As for me, I can’t say I regret buying it, but it did not remotely bring me enjoyment proportional to the amount of time I spent on it, and I don’t think any amount of ultimate payoff is going to make it worth sitting through more of this. I’ll watch the endings on bilibili and call it a day.

[unetherealfeelings]

Sushant Singh Rajput

**Trigger Warning**- Suicide, Depression 

I apologise, this will be a long post, but I felt the need to spill my thoughts and possibly gain some closure. Please bear with me 🥺☹️

I think it’s been over a week I have been sulking and hiding away in the recesses of my mind. Ever since I found out about Sushant Singh Rajput’s death, I haven't been able to get over it as I normally do with celebrities. I feel a sense of despair and misery and they don't seem to be dissipating anytime soon. For better or worse I have resorted to watching his films that I haven't caught up on. I think in some twisted way I believe that watching his past films will bring me some form of closure. But really it’s deepening the ache in my heart, with the realisation he wouldn't be around for another brilliant performance, that shatters me. 

I partly blame myself for this ache. I feel responsible as an avid movie watcher, I have always been aware of his films, I simply didn't take the leap of faith to watch them, if only I had, I would have understood the depth of his talent earlier. 

In fact, I recently got around to watching Detective Byomkesh Bakshy and the ease of how he slipped into the role of a brilliant eccentric Sherlock-Esque character blew my mind. The role completely irradiated the actor’s presence behind the character and I completely and utterly believed he was the Detective. It is a testament to his acting prowess and the ability to slip into roles in almost a seamless manner as if, they were made especially for him.

Then there was Sonchiriya, what a helluva ride that film was, yet again I was completely convinced watching him as an outlaw bhaagi blindly following his iron-hearted leader, then later the despair from his leader's death and the final conviction to do the right thing for the once in his life. It was every bit heart wrenching and soulful watching Lakhna, finally receive the redemption he so desperately sought. 

Speculations and News Coverage

I have been reading the speculations around his death, all over the world, people are trying to come to terms with his death whether it was pre-mediated murder or really a suicide. The fact of the matter is no matter what the conclusion turns out to be, he’s gone forever and solving this case isnt going to bring him back. I think even now days later I haven't come to terms with it. How could it happen? What exactly transpired leading him to make such a drastic decision? Who is to blame for his untimely death? Ultimately, there is a pain in the realisation that a man every bit talented and bright as him, had decided at some point that death would be the only way out. Pain, that to some extent the industry he worked and poured his soul into, may have played a part in his terminal downfall. 

Oh and don't get me started on the media's news coverage.  I haven't seen such a degraded level of humanity than what journalists, TV channels and reporters have displayed these past few days. Has a human life become so worthless that you refuse to give mourners the right to grieve in peace, the soul of the departed to rest in peace? That you had to share such confidential pictures of such a sensitive case all over the internet? It absolutely disgusts me, that there are people out there who would be willing to sell their dignity, shame and morals for TRPs. Utter scum, that’s all. 

Change is vital for great films and great artists 

Regarding the clusterfuck of emotions, accusations and outrage happening in Bollywood right now, I believe it had to happen at some point. I’m heartbroken that it took a preventable death for Bollywood and the audience to finally break this dam. I hope and pray that a productive and significant change is brought on by the chaos, that this outrage isn't one that merely blows over in the coming days. There needs to be a solid change in Bollywood which grants promising and genuine fledgeling talent easier access to auditions, directors/producers without needing the backing of big names, money or godfathers. And, what even is the need for an elite society of Bollywood stars? We get it, you make good movies and are bankable profit bringers, but if you can't even be decent humans and refuse to get off your high horses then I don't see the point of even worshipping such ‘stars’.  As long as we the audience, the film watchers support art made by the sub-par talent of nepotism spawn. Filmmakers, talent agents and  producers won't be pressured into actually producing good quality films with talent that actually deserve a chance to shine in the starry filmy world.  

Your Mental Health is in your hands 

I think the most important takeaway of this horrifying incident is the fragility of life and the value of prioritising your mental health. Listen, you are precious, your life is precious and you are worth so much more than the sum of your parts. If you take the decision to end it all, think about the people in your life who would be the most affected. The void left by your absence will never heal because you would have taken a piece of them with you forever. No matter what you think of yourself, know that there are people out there who are going to miss most, the parts of you that you think are flawed. All your insignificant quirks, flaws and imperfections that make you lovable, inspiring and most importantly human. We live in a world, so stricken with becoming perfect that we forget, we were created to be human;imperfect, chaotic and confusing. Never ever think your precious life isn't worth it, I guarantee that there will be someone will be affected by your loss. Please, for the love of all that is good and bad, reach out if you are in pain and suffering. Depression is a horrifyingly isolating illness, it locks you up in the darkest and most vulnerable corners of your mind, depriving you of love, confidence and your will to fight. So, just if there is someone out there you trust, friends, family, therapists, helplines, heck, even me reach out, please. For the sake of your future self, for what you could become in the future. For the possibility of a life full of love, hang on, please. 

May peace be with you Sushant 

As for Sushant, well I guess there is nothing much left to say, we can praise his work, the wonderful and down-to-earth personality that we lost to the stars too soon. In the end, it's all just a sad reminder of our futility in stopping his death. His death leaves a scathing reminder, that mental illness doesn't discriminate. Not between the rich, poor, famous, literate or illiterate we all fall prey to it. However, the difference between life and death is how we choose to battle it, in silence or with a support system. You get to decide what you want to do with your life, don't make it one you’ll regret. I’m sorry Sushant, I'm sorry you had to take such a decision to find your peace. I hope now that wherever you are, you are filled with the peace and love that you didn't get, here with us.

Sushant Singh Rajput (1986-2020).                             Lives on Infinitely through his films and art 

[sociomi]

Use This Slot Machine Strategy to Pick the Right Machines to Play

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Set a clock and, in case you arrive at an impasse monetarily early, have a break until the hour is up. You can similarly consider whether you ought to play a more reasonable machine.

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Which Club Will You Visit? If you're not going to a specific club, yet rather to a spot like Las Vegas where various club look for your thought, stop briefly to investigate which decision offers the best possibilities.

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Remember, regardless, that those appropriated possibilities are for all betting machines that the club offers. Payout rates for unequivocal machines are regularly not conveyed.

[furyfought]

abernathy is a small town, surely you’ve met AGATHA KLEIN ; they can be a little IRREVERENT & OPPORTUNISTIC but have no fear , the TWENTY SEVEN year old definitely makes up for it by being IMPISH & SENSITIVE . most of the time anyway .  they’re usually seen around KLEIN & ASSOCIATES, LLC , as a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY . you know, i hear they’re affiliated with the local mc, iron kings as an ATTORNEY . they’ve got this vibe of A HEART GROWN RAVENOUS, A CYANIDE CENTER ENCAPSULATED BY SACCHARINE FRUIT, AND A SOUL IN THE FORM OF A SCRIBBLE WITH FANGS going on , makes them easily recognizable.

loosely inspired by jennifer check (jennifer's body), wendy byrde (ozark), ginger fitzgerald (ginger snaps), elizabeth sloane (miss sloane), john silver (black sails), & BBHMM.

+ pinterest, stats.

hey, friends. i’m devin (or dev) & very tickled to be here. agatha’s a combination of two of my favorite muses, and i can only hope that you’ll love her as much as i do. 🤎

"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐍𝐎. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓."

agatha’s story isn’t one that she likes to tell anymore. she feels it’s useless: to be defined by the actions of others, to attempt to battle the preconceived notions that run rampant regardless of what one says or does. she doesn’t want to beg for understanding anymore, or to claw her way from beneath the filth she’s made of her life. all that most know is all that she can bear to have known. the rest? it’s confetti; a meager concession in a game of chess. if you know her, is that a fact or a weapon to be used against her?

when it comes to the stories that can be told, however.. perhaps the most important is background. agatha’s an abernathy native: raised in grandiose park, flew the coop for college, only to settle back down in bordeaux apartments. klein & associates, llc. has been in her family for generations, each forefather serving increasingly questionable clients. agatha’s life, like that of many kleins before her, was already planned before she’d ever even been a thought in her parents’ minds. under her mother’s rule, there wasn’t any room for straying from that path. agatha would be smart; she would be clean; and she would be, without fail, someone. in other words, she would be her perfect replica. imagine the disappointment when agatha was anything but. 

agatha’s childhood can be summed up by three things: a door slammed shut in her face, an ear-piercing howl, and the chronic longing to go home — wherever that was. it’s another thing she doesn’t talk about, another thing she tries not to think about. those three things have followed her into adulthood, but they’ve taken different forms now. no longer is agatha a child screaming her throat raw — no; now, she cries out in other more productive ways. if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that she’s a woman grown; the past is behind her, buried in the sand where it belongs. the truth is trickier, less absolute. agatha is a child in the form of a woman; forever in the midst of a metamorphosis, unsure if for better or worse. she lacks foresight & lives largely in the now. she can’t imagine a future for herself and her choices in life reflect that.

agatha succeeds because she’s pretty, powerful, and convincing. wherever she falls short, her father is sure to more than make up for it. it’s amazing what people will do for the right price, and when they want to keep certain secrets from ever seeing the light. nepotism & immense privilege have done wonders for her, but she does.. actually work hard, too. she has an incredible memory & is really good at digging for more information & making her case. if she tells you that she’s going to do something, then she’s going to do it right no matter what. she’s dogged in that way, blinded to the outside world by her stubbornness. she works long hours & values her career above all else. she thinks it’s the only sure thing she has & views it as the one stable, secure thing in her life.

agatha is lonely to the point of defect. she lacks a sense of security in her life, which is why she’s so career-focused. she genuinely thinks that the only person ever looking out for her is her dad. she becomes very predictable once you realize that she will always pick the winning team; that she will forever follow the money; and that she is always going to make the decision that most benefits her. that isn’t to say that she doesn’t have any friends omg, but.. she doesn’t really trust easily. if she trusts you and considers you near and dear to her heart, then she’ll choose you. but until she has that reassurance? you’re on your own, bro. 

but like.. you literally would not know that unless you got burned by her. agatha is really good at listening and really good at playing parts for people. the thing with having no story is that she’s free to create her own. if you need a hero, she can be that. if you need a villain, she can definitely be that. she’s eerily good at getting chummy enough to make people think she’s close, only for them to realize.. they don’t actually know anything real about her? fun stuff. 

i think.. her entire life is a vie for power while also wanting to let go of that desire while also being afraid of what might happen if she were to let go of that desire. she’s not tht bad. she can play decent, be a guy’s guy. and she does come off tht way. it’s jus.. underneath there’s tht like .. tht rot tht she can’t scrub away. n it rears its ugly little head smtimes. but. :^) she can be cool n shoot the shit u kno.. heheh.

anyway.. lighter stuff<3 puts the gaslight and gatekeep in girlboss. talks just like her daddy, except for when she’s in the courtroom. egocentric without ever meaning to be. (spoiler: it’s a smoke screen.) she can, must, and will find a way to twist your words into something she can make sense of. believes in mixed drink supremacy. will absolutely smoke all of your weed + play dumb about hogging the blunt. plays dumb a lot actually, until it’s time to be smart. she’s touchy-feely, but freezes up whenever someone touches her. stares — a lot. can’t ever be the person to pick you up after a rough night out, because she’s likely there with you egging you on to do one more shot. every event is a tits out event / she has to be the most overdressed person in the convenience store at all times. can, must, and will be your unsolicited sugar momma. YOU SPIL-DBFDHFDJHBF LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG? energy. thinks everything is a competition because it is. if she loved you once then she loves you forever. thinks going 20 over the speed limit isn’t speeding, actually. a bit of an emotional anarchist. can’t actually take what she’ll dish out. teases u if she likes u. teases u if she doesn’t like u. doesn’t care abt the feud as long as she’s gettin’ tht shmoney. big fan of an emotional sucker punch. 

"𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋."  + below are some ideas open to any & all muses no matter the age, gender, affiliation, etc !

i’ve left how she got involved with the mc totally absent from this intro bc i was hoping to plot it out! i’d love it if someone wanted to be her “in”. could be they were a childhood friend in need of help, a client she got close to, jus smth tht happened by chance.. whtever we come up with works! <3

if anyone needs an evil ex gf .. She’s Here. she will lie, cheat, scam, trash yr car, empty yr bank account.. whtvr you need, baybee<3

conversely.. not-so-evil ex gf? agatha can be nice & caring without there being a catch sometimes. maybe they still talk. maybe they’re friends. u tell me.

fwb / ex fwb? she do be sending them ‘u up?’ texts. 

someone tht agatha only got close to bc she wanted them to testify/be a character witness in court oopz<3

omg actual friends pls.. ppl tht Know her. tht See her. ppl tht she cares abt n would actually do anything for. friends!!!!!!!!!!!!

agatha has “get off my lawn” energy so i think it would be very funnie if someone needed a place to crash n she let them stay at hers thinking it was temporary n then they jus.. did not leave. n she’s like 🤨 hello?

an almost smth? anything weird n awkward n unspoken tht maybe fizzled out or maybe still lingers under the surface?

agatha doesn’t have a budding drinking problem but if she does no she doesn’t but if she does then<3 drinking buddy? someone that she’s gotten into questionable shenanigans with? poor bartender tht has to deal w her trying to “help” them as she waits for her uber to come? the possibilities are endless.

agatha’s all bark n very little bite but i still think it’d be funnie if she had a hateship. jus putting tht out there<3

if yr muse wnts an ego boost via unrequited crush.. lmk. i’m willing to hulk smash all of agatha’s dignity jus for u.

omggg a dealer? >.> who said tht omg #hacked.. 

on n off again thingz? lorde wrote tht "i am my mother's child i'll love you til my breathing stops / i'll love you till you call the cops on me" line abt her</3

budding friendships!!!!!!! ppl tht she goes to pilates or yoga with; people she gets brunch with; ppl she keeps running into n its like heeey u :); little platonic crushes jus . all of the cute platonic thingz tht make her go wtf is this 🤨. 

i mean.. if anyone wants a sugar momma.. I MEANNN..

college friends!! law school friends!! ppl she met over the summer while interning somewhere!! i left tht purposely vague, hint-hint.

tinder dates gone wrong. ghosted tinder dates. tinder thingz.

agatha’s been attending galas / banquets / office partiez for ages now so if anyone wants to be her plus one or her lil fake date... :^) could be cute. cld be angsty. world is our oyster. 

speaking of which.. coworkers n maybe even a lil personal assistant would be so sexie.

[rvb-is-gay]

ok so now that the final episode of rvb0 is out for everyone, lets get into some discussion about it! please note that post isnt a topic of debate but rather just my personal thoughts about everything, so dont go arguing in the replies

(fair warning ahead of time for any fans, this is mostly criticism and negative feelings about it, so keep scrolling if you dont wanna read it)

When RVB0 was first announced, I remember everyone was first upset that the Reds and Blues weren't in it, including me. But now that I've watched the whole thing, I can say with confidence that my only issue with RVB0 isn't the lack of the Reds and Blues, but rather everything. the dialogue, some of the animation, the characters, the delivery, the pacing, the ridiculous amount of clichés, etc. I don't dislike RVB0 just because there's no Reds and Blues. I dislike it because I just found the entirety of it bad.

When I first started watching it, I went in with an open mind that maybe this season could actually be really good. I’d also be lying if I said that there wasn't a single scene that I liked. There were actually a few, but they still didn't make up for just the overall badness of the season. But please note that I don't blame the voice actors for any of this or even just Torrian Crawford for the season coming out a giant mess. Many people worked for this season and always had the opportunity to improve or change things but didn't. But anyways, let’s get into some of the criticisms I have for this season.

1. Smaller and more opinion oriented criticisms

This isn’t really criticism or anything important, but rather just a few things I found a bit weird to me personally.

First, the term “ragtag team of misfits” was used to describe Shatter Squad (and was even actually said out loud by One in the last episode, which sounded just so cliché and dumb in my opinion). I don't think this describes them at all?? Everyone has, at the very least, decent relationships with each other (save for One and East who were competitive with each other (which I also fucking hate in RVB that all the girl characters are always competitive with each other)), but that still doesn't really fit the term ragtag) and they all fight very well. I think ragtag fits the Reds and Blues more than it does Shatter Squad; they're bad at fighting, they argue and fight all the time, they're idiots, and that's why we love them. If they had just stuck with “a team of misfits”, that would've made more sense, but again, this is more of a personal opinion than genuine criticism.

Second, I don’t really like the aesthetics this season had. Everything felt a bit too neon and bright and then some stuff just felt like it came straight out of World of Warcraft or something. It didn’t really feel like RVB.

Third, my feelings about Carolina constantly calling Wash David can be summed up by what Michael said in the first episode of Halo 4 LASO: “Now we’re just gonna throw his name around all willy nilly. It used to be a secret.” When someone is called by their real name in RVB or just any story in general where everyone goes by code names, it’s usually a big deal and indicates something serious. Carolina wore out Wash’s name the first time she said it and it just got more and more irritating from then on out and lost its value.

Fourth, who was the blue and purple soldier in the first teaser we got? Was that One? Did they decide to change her armour colour? I don’t know, I just randomly remembered that and thought it was weird but I guess it must’ve just been a colour change.

Now, onto the more serious criticism.

2. Animation and dialogue

The second thing I wanna talk about is the animation. Don't get me wrong, the fighting animation is probably the best compared to everything else and it was pretty good to watch, but the talking and idle animations and gestures were..... kinda yikes. I know that it could be chalked up to “well we’re not used to seeing animated gestures since all of RVB usually has everyone just holding their gun and using the regular Halo models” but there were still some pretty bad parts.

Take the scene from Encounter at 3:26 as an example (I uploaded the scene to YT to put here, but obviously it was blocked for copyright):

This scene is probably one of the worst when it comes to not only the animations, but the dialogue, pacing, and delivery. When I first saw this, I honestly laughed. Here's a list of my problems with this scene and what made it so laughable:

The overexaggerated hand gestures. I get that because everyone's in armour and a helmet, it can be hard to show expression, but this feels like a bit much. Especially when One says “what? You’re pulling us off the mission? You cant do that!” I think that one scene in season 15 when Grif stays behind on Iris while everyone leaves and it slowly zooms in on Simmons’ visor somehow does a lot better at expressing feelings than this.

East immediately making the connection between Axel and Zero feels weird. I don't know if its just me who feels this way, but I think it should've been a little bit longer before she immediately is just like “you know Zero don't you”

Axel saying “I... I do... I did”  also sounds weird and like he was trying a bit too hard to sound dramatic. I don't really know how to describe it its just such a weird delivery of the line.

The way they all immediately start yelling at each other.

One saying “Axe, I trusted you” right after saying “tell us the truth”. Girl, you gave him no opportunity to explain and just immediately jumped to not trusting him anymore. Speaking of which, I don't think this was ever really mentioned again and had no meaning or importance to it.

The echoing of “I trusted you” also feels cliché to me, but this is more of a minor thing.

I think this one comment on one of the episodes on the RT site that says the dialogue “seemed acted rather than natural. It didn't really sound like how people normally talk, more how actors talk in plays” is how I feel about all of the dialogue in RVB0.

3. The villains

Zero and Diesel both felt like they didn't really have any motivation at all for being villains. Phase is probably the best when it comes to this. She was essentially abused by her father as a child and forced to undergo being experimented on. This is an actual good and understandable motivation.

Diesel we know basically nothing about, and then on the other hand, all Zero wants is power. But for what? Why? I can understand that power is a pretty common thing for people to want, but it still kind of felt like there wasn't really anything there.

Some previous good villains in RVB include:

Temple: Temple witnessed his best friend be brutally murdered right in front of him by 2 soldiers who didn't give a shit and just left him to die, especially right after he told him he was having a baby. Of course it’s understandable that he has a hatred of Freelancers after this. Any normal person would.

Felix: Felix was probably the best villain of all of RVB, to be honest (right beside the Director). He was just somehow so likeable and had so much personality, despite being an asshole. His ultimate motivation was money and being rich, which is another thing I can understand; the more money you have, the more you can essentially do whatever you want and live in luxury. I mean, even so many people in real life do horrible things just for money. I don't even have to give examples for this. Felix in general is also just a psychopath.

The Director: The whole reason the Director did what he did was because he lost the person he loved most in the world: his wife. He was willing to do literally anything to bring her back, leading to all of his actions in the Project Freelancer saga. You can find many examples of movie/TV/book/etc characters/villains seeking vengeance as a result of loss of a loved one and grief. Despite being a horrible person, the Director actually managed to be a villain you could even sympathize with, making him even better.

Sharkface: Although a bit of a more minor villain, similar to Temple, Sharkface is a villain because he wants revenge on the people that killed his team, the people he considered to be the only family he’s ever had.

4. Tucker & the swords

The fourth thing I wanna talk about is the whole thing with Tucker and the swords. I always found it kinda weird how both Tuckers sword and now Locus’ sword in the chorus trilogy were the same, but then in RVB0, Zero’s sword looks and acts completely different, but that might just be a little nitpick of mine.

As for Tucker, it was so good to see him. Although I don’t know if it was just me, but he seemed a little OOC. What I didn't like about seeing Tucker again was that he did literally nothing the entire episode. He was useless. He said “I can fight” at one point but then all he does during the battle is get held at knife point, run away, and then get stabbed and have his sword taken. Tucker isn't an amazing fighter, but he’s definitely a lot more capable than just this. We’ve seen him in action many times and I just feel like he could've done a bit more. It almost feels like he was purposefully nerfed and tossed aside just to advance the plot.

Another thing that I and probably a lot of people are upset about is the fact that Tucker might not even own his sword anymore?? When East stabbed him, he apparently died and the sword was rebound to Phase, but it wasn't very clear that this was the case. Although the beginning of the next episode starts with hospital beeps and a flatline, I don't think it was still really clear enough that Tucker actually died long enough for Phase to reclaim the sword because I saw a handful of people confused in the comments and, like me, even thought it was just bad writing at first and that the writers completely forgot about the rules of the sword established over several prior seasons.

When in the hospital, Wash tells Tucker that he almost died. Although I actually liked this scene because it was nice to see wash and tucker bantering again, I think it could've been made better and made the plot clearer if instead of saying he almost died, Wash said something along the lines of “Tucker, you died. Your heart stopped, but they were able to bring you back thanks to their advanced medical tech” and then in response Tucker freaks out because that means his sword will now work for Phase and now they know how urgent the situation is.

I really really hate that Phase just has Tucker’s sword now and nothing is even said about it. If Tucker was to give his sword away to someone, I think many people would prefer that it was at least someone close to him, like Junior for example, but instead it goes to a random girl he hardly knows.

5. Pacing

The fifth thing I wanna talk about is the pacing. This season was definitely a lot shorter than normal and I think that’s one of the things that really prevented it from being good. The entire story just feels rushed and while I understand that it can be really difficult to build a good story and characters in such a short time, I think there’s still ways you can do it without it feeling like there’s so much missing. I think the long intros and outros are also responsible for less time and maybe they should’ve considered cutting them to give more actual episode time. Here’s a few things that were poorly done as a result of bad pacing:

The final battle against Zero: The whole battle just somehow felt like a typical video game boss battle that ends super quickly to me. Shatter Squad didn’t even defeat Zero, he just up and got disintegrated or whatever from Black Lotus.

Shatter Squad giving up on their mission: After receiving the silly deep voice filtered message from Zero, everyone on Shatter Squad just immediately gives up on finding him.

One’s speech: One’s speech wasn’t awful or anything and I didn’t really have any problems with the speech itself, but rather just how quickly the team went from “we can’t do it.. it’s over..” to “you’re right! I’m in! Let’s go get them!” Compare this to Doc and Sarge’s speech to the Reds and Blues after Church and Carolina leave in season 10 episode 20. It just felt a lot more genuine (this is probably because the Reds and Blues had a lot more time to be developed, though) and was only given after some time passed rather than 2 seconds later. The scene and context also transitioned well into it and at first, nobody was on board with what Doc was saying, which is more realistic in my opinion. People’s minds won’t just instantly change, they’re still gonna think about it and maybe have a few doubts at first.

Phase and West: During their fight, West talked a lot about how he regrets giving Phase away to Starlight, that he won’t hurt her, and is even willing to die for her. Their scene together ends with Phase punching him in the head and then leaving to join the others and nothing else about them is mentioned. We don’t know if Phase forgave him or not, we don’t know how West feels, etc.

Tucker’s sword: Phase still has Tucker’s sword and like the scenario with West, nothing about it is mentioned. We don’t know what she’s going to do with it, if she’s going to keep it, if Tucker’s gonna do anything about it, etc.

6. Clichés

Clichés aren’t inherently bad and can be really impactful and good if done right. But when it comes to RVB0, it’s jampacked with clichés that aren’t good. Here are a few examples:

Everyone gives up until a speech is given: All of the points for this are the same as above, but I wanted to include this scene as a cliché as well.

Every female character is competitive with each other: RVB falls into this a lot, like I mentioned earlier. It happens again with East and One, although luckily they seem to resolve it, but not until literally the end of the season.

West’s fit about East: All of the lines and delivery in this scene were just atrocious and cheesy. I think West’s dialogue just could’ve been a bit more original, but instead we’re given this boring predictable “I won’t lay a hand on her. I promised her. I promised her mother. I promised she’d be safe” spiel that has no emotion to it in his voice.

The whole “I got this, you go ahead” thing: This isn’t like a super cliché thing, but I found it pretty interesting how it happens twice in the same episode.

I think this is pretty much all I can think of at the moment. If I think of anything else, I’ll add onto this. Overall, I think RVB0 would’ve done a lot better as just an RVB spinoff so that it could have more episodes and seasons dedicated to developing characters and a good plot. I’m really disappointed with this season and I hope whatever comes next is better than what RVB0 was. I hope the team that worked on it can learn a few things that come from the good and valid constructive criticism given to them. And if I had to pick, I think I’d say Raymond was my favourite out of all the new characters. He just felt the most relatable and realistic to me.