#rich people and their NEED to display wealth

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

So this hairstyle:

I love it so much. I imagine some rich person being all like, "I don't have enough places to display my gold. What shall I do? Surfaces! I need surfaces!" And then some brilliant fashion designer was all, "What if we turned your hair into a surface?" And everyone agreed that it was the best thing ever.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

50 Character Personality Traits + Meanings (For writers, worldbuilders, and artists) Part 1

Adventurous - Enjoys trying new experiences and exploring the unknown.

Ambitious - Driven to succeed and achieve their goals.

Analytical - Tends to think critically and examine things in-depth.

Artistic - Highly creative and expresses themselves through artistic mediums.

Assertive - Confident in expressing their thoughts and feelings.

Caring - Shows compassion and concern for the well-being of others.

Charismatic - Has a natural charm and appeal that draws people in.

Clever - Able to come up with creative solutions and make astute observations.

Compassionate - Displays empathy and a desire to help those in need.

Confident - Believes in their own abilities and is self-assured.

Conscientious - Reliable, responsible, and attentive to detail.

Curious - Eager to learn new things and explore the world around them.

Cynical - Tends to be skeptical and distrustful of others' motives.

Dependable - Can be counted on to follow through on their commitments.

Determined - Persistent in pursuing their goals and overcoming challenges.

Diplomatic - Skilled at navigating social situations and resolving conflicts.

Eccentric - Displays unconventional or unusual behaviors and interests.

Empathetic - Able to understand and share the feelings of others.

Ethical - Guided by a strong moral compass and a sense of right and wrong.

Extraverted - Enjoys being around people and draws energy from social interactions.

Flexible - Adaptable to changes and open to trying new approaches.

Forgiving - Willing to let go of past hurts and give people second chances.

Friendly - Approachable and enjoys building positive relationships with others.

Grounded - Practical, down-to-earth, and focused on the present.

Hardworking - Diligent and dedicated in their efforts to achieve their goals.

Honest - Values truthfulness and integrity in their words and actions.

Idealistic - Driven by a vision of how the world should be and a desire to make a difference.

Imaginative - Possesses a rich inner world and creative problem-solving abilities.

Independent - Prefers to think and act for themselves without relying on others.

Indecisive - Struggles with making decisions and often second-guesses themselves.

Introverted - Finds energy and fulfillment in solitary activities and introspection.

Jealous - Experiences feelings of resentment or insecurity towards others.

Kind - Gentle, considerate, and thoughtful in their treatment of others.

Leaders - Able to inspire and guide others towards a common goal.

Logical - Approaches problems and decisions through a rational, analytical lens.

Materialistic - Highly values the acquisition of possessions and wealth.

Organized - Maintains order and efficiency in their personal and professional life.

Perfectionistic - Strives for flawlessness and can be overly critical of themselves and others.

Pessimistic - Tends to focus on the negative aspects of situations and expect the worst.

Resilient - Able to bounce back from setbacks and adapt to changes.

Risk-taker - Willing to take chances and step outside of their comfort zone.

Sarcastic - Uses irony and witty remarks to convey their thoughts and feelings.

Sensitive - Deeply affected by the emotions and experiences of themselves and others.

Stubborn - Unwilling to change their mind or compromise on their beliefs and opinions.

Suspicious - Inclined to doubt the motives and intentions of others.

Thoughtful - Considerate of the impact their words and actions have on others.

Timid - Shy, reserved, and hesitant to take risks or assert themselves.

Trustworthy - Reliable, honest, and worthy of confidence.

Unpredictable - Displays an element of surprise and spontaneity in their behavior.

Witty - Possesses a quick, clever, and humorous way of expressing themselves.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[scap34]

No one touches what’s yours ♡

sub! sugar baby! Toji x sadistic! rich! dom! younger! male! reader

warnings: cussing, mild daddy kink, oral sex, dirty talk, degradation, implied sex, mild manipulation, mention of murder

Another shitty gala. What was this one for? A charity? Who even cared? If half the money wasted on flaunting wealth actually went to the cause, he was pretty sure there wouldn’t even be a need for charity anymore.

Instead, it was just another popularity contest. And lucky him, you happened to be the star of the show—the hot, rich jock everyone loved to worship.

What did that make him? Your cheerleader? 

Toji scowled as he downed the wine in his glass. Expensive, yet it tasted like shit. He’d already had three in the last half hour, and the buzz was barely there—a waste of both time and money.

But that wasn’t what bothered him. It was all the eyes on you. The overly flattering tone, and greedy eyes people looked at you with. His fingers itched for his blade. To paint the shiny white floor red with their blood. 

You were his. So why the hell were people so fucking close to you?

Then your cold gaze met his, and for a moment, that disinterested look melted into faint amusement. Without hesitation, you made your way toward him, leaving behind a trail of disappointed murmurs and bitter faces, none daring to voice their complaints aloud. 

Toji stayed rooted in place, arms crossed, waiting for you to come to him. When you finally did, he didn’t bother hiding his irritation. “Why the hell did you drag me to this?�� he grumbled, his tone bordering on petulant—not that he’d ever admit it outright.

You had the audacity to chuckle, a soft, amused sound that only annoyed him more. “I didn’t.” You replied smoothly. “I told you, you wouldn't like it, but you insisted on coming anyway.”

Did he say that? Yes. 

Did he care? No.

“What was I supposed to do? Sit around at home like some miserable housewife?” He snapped back. 

You didn’t respond immediately, but the gleam in your eyes said everything. It was that look—the one you got right before one of your ideas. The kind that left him sore in all the right places and utterly, blissfully wrecked. 

Was it the housewife comment? Fuck, would you care about fucking him here? 

“Yeah, baby? Need your husband to make you happy?” you practically purred, your voice low and husky, dripping with amusement.

The tone alone had him shifting in place, a rush of heat racing down his body. Damn tux was too tight, but he knew better than to blame it on the suit. Knowing you, the control freak you were, you’d probably had it tailored perfectly to his measurements ages ago. Made perfectly to hug every curve of his body, all on display for your eyes.

Getting a fucking boner right now would like public exposure. 

You must have been rubbing off on him, cause the thought only served to make him more aroused.

“Y/N! What a delight to see you here!”

Your eyes shifted lazily from Toji to the man approaching, your expression unreadable. He was in his late forties, with hair that was clearly dyed to hide the gray creeping in—an attempt to cling to his youth. Everything about him screamed smug, from his tailored suit to the self-assured smirk plastered across his face.

The man practically radiated envy as he took you in. Of course he did. You were everything he wasn’t—young, rich, and devastatingly handsome. Flawless in a way that made people resent you the moment you walked into a room. And you were all his. 

“I wasn’t planning on coming,” he said, voice dripping with fake humility, “but luckily, I managed to find a spot in my schedule. I’m sure you didn’t have that problem. After all, you always attend these things, don’t you?”

He spoke loud enough for others nearby to hear, as if trying to gain some kind of upper hand in the conversation. 

You didn’t look fazed by it. The coldness in your eyes was sharp, daunting even as your lips curled into a fake, practiced smile.

“Isn’t it customary for the host to attend their own gala?” Your words were curt and polite to the point of biting cold. Throwing his words right back at him with chilling precision. 

Toji could almost hear the man’s teeth grind together in outrage at being one upped in the rich people dick measuring contest. Not that you were playing along. You didn’t need to. He could attest to how big your dick was. 

He let out a huff of laughter. The man’s eyes landed on him. The annoyance in his eyes shifted to interest as he took in Toji’s body. The tux, obviously not doing anything to hide his body. 

If this had happened anywhere else, he would’ve beaten the shit out of him. But this was your fancy gala, surrounded by those rich assholes who eyed your wealth like pesky flies. He wasn’t stupid enough to mess up your business. You’d be pissed at him, and not in a good way.

“And who is this? Your date?” The man’s slimy gazed trailed down his body. Toji had to resist the urge to shove a wine glass into his throat. 

“Yes. This is Toji.” You replied seemingly unbothered but he could see the way annoyance crept into your eyes. The way you shifted slightly closer to him. You didn’t bother introducing the man to him like you couldn’t bother with it. 

Toji bit down on his tongue, fighting the smug smile that threatened to tug at his lips. The man wasn’t important? Good, he didn’t want to play nice anyway. Toji’s eyes didn’t leave you. 

Fuck. He didn’t think you could get hotter. But you were hell bent on proving him wrong weren’t you? 

The confident, uninterested attitude of your that pissed everyone off was such a fucking turn on. Why the hell were you so hot? 

Your eyes met Toji’s heated look. Your eyes rovered down his body, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. “My sugar baby.” You added on as an afterthought. 

He hated you. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. That confident smug gleam in your eyes. You sipped your wine with a smug smile. 

Damn you. You had fucked him before coming here. So why was he getting horny again? He got less boners as a teenager during puberty. 

“Then do you mind if I have a taste? What’s a bit of sharing between business partners?” The man’s slimy voice cut between the tension. 

Your smile disappeared in a flash. Before he could react, you had an arm around his waist. A possessive hand pulling him to you. Half his body pressed against your warmth.

“He’s not a toy.” You half snarled the polite facade in your face slipping. Your arm wrapped around Toji’s waist, a possessive gesture. 

Toji’s mind short circuited at the firm possessive touch. All he could hear was his heart thumping in his chest, and feel your firm muscles against his. Your fingers felt like a brand, marking him, claiming him as yours. 

He knew he was yours. But this just cemented it. It wasn’t something that had been there but never acknowledged anymore. It was real. He was yours. And you were his. 

He barely remembered anything past the man paleing at the thunderous look on your face. Stuttering half apologies even as his face burned with embarrassment and anger. Leaving as soon as possible. 

Toji didn’t give a fuck about him anymore. 

The innocent touch of your hand on his waist, made heat pool in his stomach. Your gesture was possessive, and demanding. He loved it. 

Despite the fact that he could have easily defended himself, or even killed that scumbag, this was better. You defending him with possessive anger burning in your eyes. A scowl on your lips as you protect him. This was so much better. 

He didn’t even notice when you led him out the hall. Only when your eyes met his, did he kiss you. Pushing you up against the wall, body grinding against yours. 

His lips pressed against yours, hungry for more. You easily took back control, after your initial surprise. Kissing back ruthlessly, plundering Toji’s mouth. Fucking his mouth with your tongue. 

He pulled away panting softly, and leaned his body against yours. The hard line of his erection pressing against your thighs. He resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You recovered quickly, a sadistic smile spreading on your lips. “Hard from a kiss, baby?” You cooed, your hand moving to cup his clothed cock. Your thumb flicked the head of his cock. The movement had him moaning, expensive fabric rubbing against his sensitive head in delicious ecstasy 

“It’s your fault.” He whined, shifting his body to hump your thigh, more dog in heat than an experienced killer. Need burned in his body like a drug. He wanted you. Wanted your cock in his hole, taking what was yours. Making him yours inside and out. 

“What a needy slut.” Your eyes were dark, all consuming. He wanted you so fucking bad. He humped against your thigh, pants falling for his kiss swollen lips. “Need to be fucked that bad?”

“Yes,” he practically whined. The thought of your cock had him salivating. His hips rolling against yours. You didn’t even look bothered, the dark look in your eyes only gave it away. 

“My needy cock whore,” you cooed lowly, your tone anything but sweet. “Don’t worry, daddy will fuck you good.” The nickname and the way your fingers squeezed his ass, had him melting into your arms like putty. 

“Mhmm yes please.”

…

“Who was that guy anyway?” He asked suddenly, a few days after the gala. You looked over at him, your fingers paused typing. All your attention on him, he almost wanted to change the topic, just so your focus stayed on him.  

A live horse race played on the tv. Like a typical day, you spent your time working near him, like the possessive asshole you were.

“What guy?” 

“That asshole who tried to hit on me.” He said vaguely unsure how to describe him. All he could remember was getting fucking into the sheets. Your voice muttering praises into his ear each time you started a new round. 

“Him? Don’t worry about it. I got rid of him.” You said turning back to typing on your computer. He blinked at you incedulously. That was it?

You got rid of him? 

“What,” his throat felt dry, he licked his lips. “Did you do?” He didn’t even know what he was expecting to hear. 

You didn’t even look away from your laptop to answer. “Exposed a few scandals and destroyed his company. His reputation and business are gone now.” You retorted coldly, working on your laptop.

He blinked at you, dazed, bewildered by your words. He knew you were cruel. The words tycoon most commonly used with you. You had to be cruel to make it to the top at such a young age. He knew that too. But it felt different experiencing it firsthand. You’d destroyed someone’s business and reputation for him.

He didn’t want to bring up that he could take care of himself. That he was the sorcerer killer. A weak human was nothing to him. He’d been taunted all his life for being the black sheep of the Zen’in family. For running away. For all the money he lost gambling. 

But you were different. You were a bastard. He knew that. You’d humiliate him. Push his body to the limit. But you’d also caress his cheeks and praise him. He was yours and you found nothing wrong with him. You were an oddity he didn’t mind.

He tugged your computer away from you. You let him, looking a bit bemused. He gently placed it on the table and straddled your thighs, his knees on either side of you.

His hard cock pressed against yours. You looked up at him with a raised brow. Your hands wrapped around his waist, rubbing circles. He grinded down on your cock, making your breath hitch, eyes darkening with lust. 

“Toji? What are you doing?” You asked huskily. Your hands encouraged his hips as he grinded down. Your cock rapidly growing harder. 

“Nothing,” he replied mischievously. His hands ran up his thigh, and disappeared under his shirt. Under your hungry gaze he played with his chest. Moaning when he pinched his dusty pink nipple, the pain mixed with pleasure.

“Yeah? How about I give you something to do then baby?” you muttered huskily. Your hands held his hips as you smirked. “Why don’t you suck my cock, baby?” 

His grinding nearly stopped if it wasn’t for your hands moving his hips, in slow circles. His cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. 

Suck your dick? He’d never done that before. But he couldn't help but want it. The idea made him harder. 

You could see his reluctance and palmed his clothed cock. “Be a good boy, Toji and suck me off.” He flushed darker, at your blunt words. His cock strained against his flimy pants, pre-cum smeared onto it. 

He nodded weakly. There wasn’t any chance he’d refuse anyway. He was weak for you.

…

“I can’t,” he sobbed, around your cock. The sound sent bolts of pleasure. Red marks on your thighs, where your baby dug his fingers in too hard. The pain barely registered to you. Not when the pleasure was so strong. 

You held back a smirk and frowned. “Already baby? I haven’t even cum yet.” Toji let out another frustrated sob. The sound reverberated through you making you bite back a groan.

“Please please ple’se can’t,” he begged, rubbing his cheek against your cock like a puppy. Like it would make you give in. You wouldn’t say it’s Toji’s fault for not making you cum. That was all you. Making him take a dildo as he sucked you off. You conveniently forget to tell it was also a vibrator. He’d came immediately when the vibrations started. And again when you increased it. 

The view didn’t help you. Fat pecs bouncing with each movement, trembling thighs parted lewdly, showing off his useless cock. His own cum staining his thighs messily. You had half a mind to turn him around so you can see the way his hole took the toy. 

But then you’d miss the dumb slutty look on his face. The fucked dumb look on your baby’s face. Cheeks flushed red, tears clinging to his lashes too stubborn to fall, lips bitten red and swollen, expression scrunched in pleasure and overstimulation. 

His pretty lips stretched obscenely around your cock. Messily sucking your dick, licking it like a pathetic kitten. The sight of his face could make you cum but you were holding out. After all, you had a goal in mind. 

“Come on Toji. You’re really going to leave me hanging?” You usually never called him by his name during sex. Your baby caught on. His hands clenched tighter and he tried to please you. Messy and sloppy. You loved it. 

“Ple’se t’rn it off,” he pleaded looking at you with desperate tear filled eyes. It just made you want to shove your cock back into his mouth and fuck his throat till his voice was hoarse. 

“Make me cum first, baby.” You replied like that other times he asked. He let out a choked sob, body trembling when you turned up the vibrations. Desperate and wreaked was the best look on your baby. 

“That needy, baby?” You can see the conflict in his eyes, all his previous confidence thrown out. Only a hazy of need and wanting to please in his eyes. He nodded lips around the head of your cock. 

“I’m going to fuck your throat then baby. Can you take it for me like a good slut?” He shivered from your words and nodded quickly. Opening his mouth obediently. 

You smirked. “Use your words baby.” He flashed a pretty red. 

“Ple’se, fuck my throat,” he pleaded weakly voice a bit hoarse. 

“As you wish, baby.” You smirked, your hands holding his hair a bit roughly. He barely winched, his cock twitching with interest. 

You had to hold back a grin as you pressed your cock into your baby’s mouth. He didn’t even gag. The perfect cock slut. You let out a groan and started to face fuck him. 

Toji barely protested, his moans sending heat pooling. Within minutes you finished onto your baby’s tongue. Toji obediently swallowed it. Hazy adoring eyes meeting yours, begging for praise. 

You chuckled and wiped your cum off his lips. “Good boy.” Your perfect baby. 

[endearing-dalliance]

Arcane Team's Bias Bastardized Piltover and Zaun

I am not an LoL player, but I read up on the lore because I was that fucking disappointed in season 2. Some key points of original Piltover and Zaun lore, which the team kept parts of. Emphasis on parts.

Geography and Symbiotic Economy:

Zaun was established first. A geographic disaster literally split the earth and sunk part of the city, splitting it into what we know today. Many of the wealthier citizens and those involved in the profitable sea trade ended up on a cliffside and industrial parts of Zaun were now across a river and below. They then became separate city-states in a symbiotic relationship.

"Zaun thrives, its people vibrant and its culture rich."

Zaun has multiple levels of "good" areas like the college and Bridgewaltz market where both citizens shopped for music, food, technology in addition to progressively more polluted and dangerous lower levels.

Piltover’s wealth has allowed Zaun to develop in tandem

Zaun's issues like the Gray were attributed to their own factories and labs that benefitted their own people

Culture and Relationship:

Zaunities collectively take great pride in themselves and their thriving city. Many choose to live there, especially scientists and inventors who find Piltover too restricted, because "their right to do as they please is what makes Zaun the freest city-state on Runeterra"

"A citizen of Piltover is typically self-reliant, does not expect handouts, and always aspires to do better."

Piltover has an elected "very empathic and progressive" government and is "one of the least militarized city-states"

Zaun's technological progress and academic institutions are described as being Piltover's only technological and academic rival. 

Both cities' citizens augment their bodies. Piltover's are more flamboyant and display their wealth, even if they are originally necessary; Zaun's are more practical and "necessity is the mother of invention" very much applies.

So this was what they had to work with. I can understand why many people would prefer to live in Piltover, but Zaun is treated as an equal place to be, with its own distinct and proud culture, complex structure, and thriving economy.

Moving on to Arcane (finally lol) and the now infamous original Arcane pitch. Either Christian posted that while every sane person was asleep, or none of them realized how profoundly terrible it makes them look. 

There's a lot in here that's problematic. Piltover is a gleaming wonder, a pure and magical place while conveniently leaving out why its this flourishing utopia. The next bit frames the entire conflict as Piltover's decision. It screams "Mommy and Daddy need to punish the naughty kids or they'll wreck the house." Except the starving kids are locked in the moldy basement and trying to break the door down to escape.

Now about Zaun...here its called the underground district. This becomes more important later, when you realize how many different and contradictory labels they give Zaun. Its an undercity, sister city, part of Piltover, wannabe Nation of Zaun. It establishes again the underlying superiority of Piltover. And of course it is, because Zaun's people are boiled down to dangerous, manipulative criminals (bonus points for an antisemetic reference!) with no morality.

I firmly believe this team has a fundamental deliberate misinterpretation of what LoL Piltover and Zaun are, and it is due to their own biases and privileges of a team that is primarily white, middle/upper class, able-bodied, and mostly male. It is abundantly clear that they see as Zaun is objectively lesser and that its their own fault. They're just a foil for Piltover and source of enemies. Three quotes from Arnaud-Lois Baudry:

"My role as a Production Designer was to make sure we don't negatively impact other teams at Riot Games and contribute to adding value and enriching the worldbuilding of those cities."

"Once we figured out the shape language of the wealthy city of Piltover, Zaun needed to be its dark mirror. We started by combining Victorian architectural pieces and some old industrial elements and added some asymmetrical flourish ornaments made from handcrafted upcycled pieces."

"Canonically Zaun is supposed to be super-dark, oily, and dirty with green smoke everywhere." Dude it is literally called The Gray. Zaun's marketplace, college, and an example of their architectural style from the LoL website:

Zaun is literally an afterthought. And I think its very telling that once again, Piltover was the priority. Magical, pure Piltover with its moral code...and Zaun was literally just designed to be its opposite. They claim that the show was designed to show the good and bad parts of both, but they failed to include any direct evidence that the problems in Zaun are entirely due to Piltover's treatment of them. They literally just took LoL Zaun, scooped the top (more prosperous) levels off, and buried it under Piltover. Piltover was enriched, and even benefited by inspiration from Eastern European culture like Nikola Tesla and Czech artist Alphonse Mucha. And then gave Viktor the only "foreign" accent in the show to further emphasize his disadvantaged upbringing and displacement in Piltover society. As someone with an Eastern European/Slavic background, I cannot emphasize this enough: fuck. every. last. one. of. you.

*sigh* Moving on to the "value and enrichment" given to Zaun:

cities described as "dissonant halves of the a greater whole" rather than symbiotic

Piltover came first, and the undercity later develops into Zaun. No mention of historical or present-day Zaun having anything to do with Piltover's success. Literally nothing is explicitly connected, though we do get Cait committing war crimes using tech her Mom installed to help the Zaunites from suffering the effects of pollution.

Speaking of pollution, AoA explictly states neither city has "big industry, there are no factories". Uhh then where is the pollution coming from?

It is portrayed unflatteringly with two notable exceptions (the Last Drop and Firelight tree), specifically in the ways that are in real life associated with racism, classism, body shaming, and cultural shaming. Its subtle at times, but a constant theme in their book, interviews, and the show itself.

In AoA, the Piltie extras are "understudies" and the Zaunites are "a motely crew".

Piltover has “normal” food like tea and sandwiches, while Zaun has what appears to be slugs in a muddy sauce from an unsanitary food stall that also displays drooling animal heads and tentacles.

All the Pilties are thin; the only overweight people (who are also usually morbidly obese) are from Zaun.

In Art of Arcane (AoA) they talk about how they specifically chose to design the Chem-Barons "more cartoony than grotesque" and that they made sure to have "a few landmarks, like the bridge, so it doesn't feel too cartoony" when designing Piltover.

Only the Zaunites use augmentation. Its a defining characteristic and objectively "bad". AoA explicitly correlates Viktor fixing his leg and spine with losing parts of his humanity. Lord know what they think of the multitude of augmented-out-of-necessity Zaunites. Coincidentally, the other character most associated with augments is Smeech, the cartoony drowned-rat-looking antagonistic Yordle, whose fight serves as a humorous scene endearing Jinx to the viewers.

They created the Piltover Council and then decided to make the Chem-Barons their direct counterparts, because DUALITY! Seriously, is anyone in Zaun NOT somehow just a "worse" version of a Piltie?

[bitchy-craft]

MASTERLIST

pick a cards:

Advice from your spirit guides

Book quotes associated with your future spouse's personality

2025 predictions

10 facts about your future spouse

How people perceive you

How they display their possessiveness

How they show their jealousy

How they kiss

How they'd comfort you

How they'd react to feeling ignored

How they will make you feel

How to get their attention

How to get them jealous

How to make them fall in love with you

How you should manifest

How you two would solve conflict

How you would fall into madness [18+]

How your future spouse will pursue you

How your future spouse will treat you

If they are lying to you

Let's get you hyped up

Messages for you

Messages from your future spouse

Movie quotes associated with your future relationship

Private versus public dynamics

Their hidden insecurities

Reasons to love yourself

Some motivation from your spirit guides

Something you should hear

What blessings will come your way

What kind of beauty you possess

What kind of gossip is there about you

What kind of person they are

What kind of yandere they'd be [18+]

What mythological love story describes your future relationship [NEW]

What obstacles will come your way

What people find pretty about you

What romance trope you will have

What sacrifices you'll need to make

What secrets they're keeping from you

What strangers think of you

What they feel for you

What they want to say to you

What you don't see in yourself

What you need to work on

What you should be proud of

What your body wants you to know

What your future self wants to tell you

What your higher self wants you to know

What is beautiful about you

Who is thinking about you and why

Why you are worthy of love

Would they kiss you back

You vs. Their ex

Your future spouse as a Monet painting

Your future spouse on your birthday

Your future spouse's animal type

Your future spouse's first impression

Your future spouse's love language

Your next blessing

Your next financial blessing

Your next nice surprise

Your most effective manifestation method

affirmations posts:

Abundance

Beauty

Clear skin

Confidence

Courage

Glow-up

Good Grades

Good Luck

Manifestation

Millionaire

Money

Motivation

Self Love

Success

Wealth and Riches

manifestation methods:

Robotic Affirming

The Easiest manifestation Method

The Manifestation Box Method

The Two Cup Method

The Pillow Method

The Shower Method

The Water Method

The Whisper Method

What I've manifested so far

[batbabydamian]

The Boy Wonder #3 by Juni Ba rambling about how cool this series would be to read in a single sitting...it's all so connected!!

rambles for issue #1 and issue #2!

i don't have as much personal interpretation for this cover besides it being a solid piece of art in shapes and silhouette! ALSO. bi bg lighting lol. Damian's "X" posing of his cape and swords parallels with Tim's "X" chest straps + the Robin emblem in the center. Tim's closed Red Robin wings frames Robin's own outstretched cape wings; and on top of that, the shadows cast inside the wings nicely frames Damian's demon mask.

Joe and Merle's dynamic has been so fun, especially with the mutual enthusiasm over the storytelling 🥺 Joe also opens up about his circumstances that led him to this moment, which perfectly sets up the setting of this issue! Even his very first introduction becomes a relevant detail when a fancy rich couple drops a champagne glass, uncaring of the people literally below them, saying “some poor sap down there’ll appreciate it” when it bonks Joe’s head.

it all comes around!! and tbh this issue proves how much this series would slap to read in a single sitting (GET THE COLLECTED EDITION)

Going beyond first impressions seems to apply to the color palette in this series. From #1 in the first page of Gotham, we see the gold of upper society to the blue of the downtrodden → from issues #2 and #3, it’s the warm gold of inner Gotham to the cold blue of the rich. there’s a sense of community displayed among the poor - even part of Jason’s intro avenging Bill, a generous man mourned on panel by many. The rich gives off a sense of individualism, celebrating themselves and their excess.

With the change in scenery, this issue steps into the more civilian side of things through a spy theme - fancy suits and lil gadget intros! Going down the civilian route with Tim feels very fitting since it's what makes Tim's run as Robin so charming!

i love that Talia’s taught Damian to be conscious of the rich’s effects on society, especially in the following page of small panels zoning in on the details of wealth and overindulgence. but also LIL DAMIAN. HIS LIL ROUND EYES AND HANDS 🥺

Damian’s aware of the facts, and his disgust is clearer after having just been through lower Gotham and seeing firsthand the poverty directly caused by the wealthy (also not sure if that old lady is the same one from #1 with similar hair and clothes, but pls she can't a break…)

i mentioned Damian’s “inciting incident” for this journey to be the intro of a demon for Damian to prove his worth but i’m correcting the use of that term!! the intro of the demon is more the beginning of plot, whereas the actual inciting incident is beheading the thief!! it’s the main reason he’s in this situation where he felt the need to prove himself, and atone. Most notably is that the beheaded thief is a consistent character that quite literally haunts Damian every step of the way.

The statue of Batman’s head being popped off becomes a significant visual, because while Damian started this journey to prove something to Bruce, the only one that really seems to have (quite literal) eyes for Damian’s journey is the thief. Why does he make more of an appearance than the actual Bat? Even his statue’s head doesn’t make a figurative presence; whereas the only one looming over Damian is the thief. Guilt over killing him may be driving him just as much as his desire to be worthy. Alternatively, it could be that Damian needs to reexamine his motivations since the thief is really getting in Damian's face now.

Damian is proud to be a positive influence on Tim, but the moment is short-lived. It’s an ironic moment to me because Damian doesn't even know the impact he's had on Jason just in the previous issue!! 😭

Damian's so desperate to prove his worth, yet he's been making choices in every issue to help others!! Helping the old woman up in #1, being vulnerable with Jason in #2, and now sacrificing himself for Tim!

The Ra’s "Weakness" panel has been reoccurring since #1, but it's the first time Talia has been included. Being great figures in his life and mind, their silhouettes consume Damian's, similar to a few of Batman's appearances below. This latest disappointment was such a blow to Damian, that Talia (who he might have the most respect for) becomes an added voice in his head.

Final thoughts!!

Like Rok, does the thief actually have a connection to the al Ghuls or is this beard just in fashion at the moment.

Lex is clearly referencing one of the Underwell warehouses that Joe and Merle are presently, so wondering if whatever he and Tim discuss here will be affecting them later.

Ending with Talia’s cover for extra hype!! i’ll probably go back to this for the next ramble, but i’m already gearing myself up to wail about Talia just based on this cover. The Mary and Jesus imagery (more prominent with Damian’s lil crown as a “prince”) but most importantly Talia weathering the flames for Damian…her own shroud/shawl wrapped around Damian and burning… oh boy

[whencyclopedia]

According to UNESCO, an estimated three million shipwrecks are scattered in the oceans’ deep canyons, trenches, and coral reefs and remain undiscovered. These shipwrecks preserve historical information and provide clues about how people lived in the past. The term ‘underwater cultural heritage’ refers to traces of human existence and activity found on ancient sunken ships or retrieved cargo such as bronze statues and priceless artworks. The Spanish treasure galleon, Nuestra Señora de Atocha, is the world’s most valuable shipwreck, estimated to be worth over USD 400 million. It was part of the Tierra Firme fleet of 28 ships bound for Spain from Cuba in 1622 and carried the Spanish Empire's wealth onboard – creamy pearls from Venezuela, glittering Colombian emeralds, and over 40 tons of gold and silver. The Atocha sailed into a hurricane off the coast of Key West, Florida, and sank. Its riches were discovered in 1985 by famed treasure hunter Mel Fisher (1922-1998). Thanks to virtual exhibitions and tours, you do not need diving skills to explore the oceans’ underwater cultural heritage. You can take a panoramic tour of Henry VIII of England’s (r. 1509-1547) favourite ship, the carrack Mary Rose, which sank in the English Channel during the Battle of the Solent on 19 July 1545. Want to see a 2,700-year-old Phoenician shipwreck submerged in the central Mediterranean? The virtual museum ‘Underwater Malta’ has a 3D model of the ship and app on Google Play. Fascinated to know what the wealth of the Spanish Empire looked like? Take a tour of Mel Fisher’s virtual treasures and the Atocha. There are countless virtual maritime museum displays, but let us take a look at five shipwrecks with interesting stories to tell.

[loserfae]

you are like a rot

i just dont get it i feel like im losing my fucking mind actual real human beings are being starved to death and facing a genocide and people are still raving about the met gala and eurovision and useless extravagances of the west the disconnect is sickening i feel like throwing up how many people have to die for the world to fucking care like at all

[aerinmoriarty]

In the current cultural climate of “eat the rich,” more and more ultra-wealthy are turning away from recognizable luxury brand logos in favor of subtle quiet luxury. And in fairness, the ultra wealthy have always tended to be less flashy in their flaunting; they keep their money because they don’t waste it on garish trend cycle pieces that convey a desperate need to be seen as rich.

There is no way Taylor is unaware of that fact.

Likewise, there is no way she doesn’t realize that a LOT of her fans would prefer it if she toned down some of the more obvious displays of wealth. Taylor knew which shots were going to go viral, which angles would be visible.

Why, then, come to so many recent coworking events… I mean romantic evenings with Travis in such obvious displays of brand? Especially since her fashion (or at least her logo flaunting) seems to err away from plastering herself like a NASCAR car most of the time.

Again, I have to assume this is to try and force her more critically-minded fans to look at her involvement with Travis, and the way she’s molded herself into a wholly different person for him and for the NFL games especially.

And that’s not to mention the number of times she’s shown up to events with Travis, red-nosed and glassy-eyed, head craned back in the “fawning posture” Fundie-wives like the Ofduggar’s affect.

People have such a powerful ability to fall in love with the idea of something; it’s how I was able to beard the way I did. I didn’t love the men, I loved the idea of the relationship. No one around me loved the men either, but they fell in love with the idea of the relationship. And so they didn’t pry, even as it became ever more obvious that things were not as happy as they seemed.

The idea of Taylor and Travis is powerful in a way the details we can see are not; it is a polished turd, a gilded cage. But a polished turd is still a turd, and a gilded cage isn’t even gold, it’s just gold plated. And it’s still a cage.

And her relationships with men often function as cages too, especially when even her own fans will cheer louder for Travis than Taylor, get more excited about his brief appearance than her extended performance, and view the career that she loves more than most other things in her life as something she should treat as secondary to her “real priorities” of pushing out babies for a man who cannot convince me he likes her that much.

And there’s this interplay, where often her fan’s internalized misogyny prevents them from liking Taylor as much as they like the man she’s dating. Or they like Taylor more while she’s with the man because she’s doing what she’s supposed to do: being a Good Girl. They want her to settle down and get married and have kids because that’s what’s been expected of THEM.

And as a Gaylor, as someone who has observed the fandom’s opinion of Travis, Karlie, Dianna, etc… I believe one of the points of the performance art is that many of her own fans would be much happier with her entirely submitting herself to a man and engulfing herself in his image than being happily accepted as herself with a woman.

They would rather Taylor chisel off the points of her star until she’s a cog who can fit a man’s plans than find another star in a woman and exist in one another’s orbits.

And I could go on for thousands of words about why that is, but I do think it is emblematic of the fact that a good number of women in our society are accepting less than they should from their relationships. When Taylor does the same, it makes them feel more comfortable about the decisions they’ve made.

And people don’t typically like being pushed out of their comfort zone.

[your-resident-boat-person]

oh! whats the most expensive/gaudy/over-the-top ocean liner you know of? :3

Hooooooooooo boy. My long time followers should know what time it is. Unpopular opinion time!

Among this small community of ocean liner needs that I call home, I feel as though I stand alone with this opinion, but...

I REALLY don't like the Normandie. On the outside, she looks fat and weird, it looks like a huge chunk of her stem is missing, the artifical sheer is unflattering, and the funnels look too chunky. I just don't get the appeal. But then there's her interiors.

Now, don't get me wrong, I can kinda understand the appeal here. It would be foolish of me to try and claim that this is not beautiful.

BUT. Jesus christ it looks like a god damn art museum. Ocean liners are meant to be COMFORTABLE. They're meant to feel like a HOTEL. You're spending at least 4 days aboard, so the accommodations and decor are EXTREMELY important to the passenger experience. Despite how beautiful these interiors are, they just don't fill that role. Everything is covered in marble and stone and metal. Rooms are tall and thin, which makes them extremely imposing (and also a fire Hazzard, cough cough). Like, if I was aboard I'd be too afraid to get close to the walls. It's like, is it beautiful? Yes? I mean, there's no accounting for taste, but you do you I guess. Do I wanna fucken SLEEP THERE for 4 days? Fuck no. It feels more like a cathedral than a hotel. Normandie leaned VERY hard into the new (at the time) art deco movement. Perhaps too hard. And most, if not all of my sentiments were echoed by passengers at the time. Extravagance so overindulgent feels suffocating. "It's just too much". Oh, also, in an era where liners were ditching their 3 class segregation in favor of 2 classes that were much closer to each other in terms accomodations, Normandie had fucking four. FOUR. AND A MANDATORY DRESS CODE TOO. THIS IS A SHIP NOT A BUSINESS MEETING. Anyway, if you're richer than those disgusting middle class people, but not as rich as the richest people on earth, the Normandie is for you I guess. For comparison, the Queen Mary, which entered service just a year after Normandie, had a much more restrained take on art deco. Still gorgeous, but not overindulgent. Her interiors put masterful artistry on display without sacrificing that warm, welcoming, and inviting atmosphere that an ocean liner should have. I'd include pictures, but I'm already at the 10 picture limit. I might reblog this post with some more pictures. Anyway, Normandie burned down in 1942 because the French line can't help themselves and exclusively make ocean liners that double as tinder boxes.

So yeah, the Normandie is easily the most flagrant display of gaudy overindulgent wealth I've ever seen. Not a fan honestly. Thank you so much for the ask!

[breathlessaura]

Consequences • Rafe Cameron

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!oc (John B's sister)

Josie stepped out of the truck and covered her ears with a grimace. Loud music was booming through the Cameron residence, polluting the whole neighborhood with noise.

You must be asking yourself why Josie Routledge was at a party thrown by the most obnoxious kook in all of Kildare island. Well, the truth is that she didn't entirely know herself.

Her younger brother's friend, JJ had been boasting to anybody that would listen about his extravagant plan to sneak into the party, it was his idea of heaven; free alcohol, women and a chance to piss off Rafe and his posse. And of course Josie was roped into attending, she however did refuse to sneak in.

Her eyes were full of judgement as they scanned over the exterior of the grand home. It was an extravagant display of wealth - something not exactly out of the ordinary for Ward Cameron or his son. Hoardes of drunk teens flowed in and out of the house. Some were throwing up, others opted for guzzling down more alcohol in an attempt to numb the nausea.

Her feet met the ground with rythmical thuds as she trudded over to the arched gate of the entrance. It was beautiful, intricately carved strands of metal woven together to create a breathtakingly prepossessing pattern. Thin vines tangled themselves around the metal - it was ethereal, something that was a stark contrast to the activities of the Cameron family.

The music thumped through the walls - echoing the chaos of a kook party. As Josie sauntered through the crowd, a wave of insecurity washed over her, surrounded by perfectly styled hair and designer clothes. She was never the type to be ashamed of being a pogue; of being 'less than' the self absorbed snobs on figure eight, but she couldn't help but feel a bit envious of their freedom and ability to do or say things without so much as having to think of the consequences.

In the corner of the room, she caught sight of him, Rafe Cameron. He was facing away from her, leaning against the bar with a smirk painted heavily across his face, only accentuated by the way his eyelids sat over his drunk eyes. An air of confidence surrounded him. Everybody else would put that down as him being a spoilt rich kid but Josie knew that Rafe Cameron was genuinely insane. She knew that he thought he was god's gift to earth.

The brunette grimaced and glanced away momentarily as his laughter mingled with the noise around him. It reminded her of the times she'd witnessed him do unspeakable things to countless people on the island... It was always the same psychotic laugh.

Rafe was wearing a checkered button up shirt with the same style of shorts that he was always sporting. On top of his head, a back to front baseball cap sat, hiding his brown locks.

"Josie!"

An arm draped around her, ripping her gaze from the bar and towards the source of the voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Her eyes landed on a familiar face, one belonging to who the pogues refer to as the 'Kook princess'.

"Oh" Josie muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear from out of her eyes. "Sarah, it's good to see you again."

The blonde rolled her eyes playfully and softly squeezed Josie's shoulder.

"I haven't seen you in school since before your dad.." Sarah's sentence cut short as she realised that the subject was not exactly ideal for a party, or at all really.

"I'm so s-"

"It's fine, honestly, promise" she wiggled her pinky finger in the air, something that Sarah and her would do with kie as kids. The action brought soft smile to both girl's faces.

Before the pair could reminisce any further, a familiar voice rang through the air. Josie's head whipped to the left and she rolled her eyes - a deep sigh of exasperation escaped her lips as she laid her eyes on Sarah's boyfriend, Topper.

"Sarah! Come on, we need to go!" He yelled above the music.

The blonde girl looked back at Josie with an apologetic glance.

"We need to catch up soon!" She exclaimed as she walked backwards so that she could see Josie's reaction.

"Sure, I'll text you."

The kook simply smiled and turned around, she walked over to where topper was waiting for her with an outstretched arm.

It had been an hour since Josie arrived at Rafe's party and she had been trying her absolute hardest to avoid him and his friends; resorting to milling around in the kitchen and the array of unnecessary rooms scattered around the first floor of the house.

One room in particular that drew her attention the most was a room that she could only assume was for guests. It was a smaller bedroom in comparison to the others but it had an ensuite and a small balcony that overlooked the ocean, providing an etheral view of the coast of Kildare island.

The walls were adorned with beautiful paintings. Paintings of ships and planes, of islands that seemed untouched; unexplored. Josie ran her fingertips gently over the hard metal frames, the intricate patterns and bumps made her fingers jitter slowly as she did so.

It was as if the room was a portal to another realm, as if he heavy energy of the Cameron house vaporised as soon as your foot crossed the threshold. She wanted to stay for a while, to escape the drunk teens and bask in the comfort, the homeliness and familiarity that she felt there.

So, she sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, a bottle of some expensive wine in her hand as she sipped and absentmindedly tapped her foot on the hard tiled floor in rhythm with the beat of the music that could still be heard clearly through the walls.

John B and the other pogues were nowhere to be seen, likely meaning that their plans were derailed or they simply ditched JJ's plan entirely without telling her... Like usual.

Ever since their father had gone missing... died ... John B had become enthralled with the idea that he was still out there somewhere - unable to come home - worrying about his children. And when Josie didn't show the same concern and urgency, he retaliated by distancing himself from his older sister.

At first it was small gestures that showed his distaste for her unconcerned demeanor; he wouldn't speak to her for hours, sometimes days. Then, the teen's anger translated into him subconsciously trying to remove every single trace of her from his friendship circle. He wanted to punish her for not feeling the same way about the whole situation, for moving on with her life and continuing life as normal because for some reason, he couldn't.

But what the frustrated boy didn't understand was that Josie had to grow up a lot quicker than him. Nine months may not seem like a great deal, but when their mother abandoned them and ran off to frolic around Colorado without so much as a second thought about her family, four year old Josie was thrust into reality. She realised at a young age, that relationships are fragile. That not only did her and her brother have to grow up without a mother, but their father had to navigate life as a single dad for the first time. (Something he didn't particularly excel at)

By the age of Nine, Josie Routledge was practically a mother. She would wake up hours before everyone else and clean. She would cook dinner and make sure that her brother had lunch every day before dragging him out of bed. She comforted him when he was taunted by the kook kids at school or when he had night terrors and climbed into her bed at ungodly hours of the morning. She sacrificed her childhood so that her brother could have his.

Big John didn't do much. Sure, he loved his children; in his own warped kind of way, but he was so caught up in his undying greed and hunger for more, that he failed as a father in Josie's eyes. He was never there for her recitals or parent teacher days. He was never there for her brother unless he had to be and that was why Josie was almost relieved when he decided to go off sailing in search for the stupid 'treasure' he always gushed about. It was why she didn't shut down from the grief of his disappearance; nothing changed for her, she continued her same routine every single day. The only difference was that her father actually had a reason to not be there.

The brunette girl was so deep on thought that she didn't realise the bottle of wine in her hand was empty until she brought the rim up to her lips and nothing came out.

"You know...."

Josie looked up from the floor too fast, dizziness impaired her vision for a few moments before she could decipher who the oddly familiar voice belonged to.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to realise that you've been trying to drink from an empty bottle."

His voice was deep and gravely, the tone; a dead giveaway that the man was drunk.

She didn't speak until the spinning in her head came to a halt, her eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

Rafe stood at the doorway with an undecipherable expression.

"Well it was about ten minutes... If you were... are curious." The words that flurried from his mouth were slurred.

Josie's eyebrows knitted together.

"Well I'm not." She placed the empty wine bottle gently onto the floor and moved back on the chair.

"Curious, that is."

There was a long pause, neither of them uttered a word. Josie could practically feel his eyes burning crater sized holes at the side of her face as she stared at one of the paintings on the wall.

"Where's your brother?" Rafe's words fired out in quick concession. "Wherever there's one of you, the others are never too far behind."

She finally looked over at him again with her eyebrows contorted together in confusion and annoyance.

"That's none of your business."

He rolled his eyes at her response and took a few steps closer in her direction.

As he drew nearer, the smell of cologne and whiskey flooded her nostrils. Rafe was still an arm's length away from her but the smell of him was potent enough for it to permeate the room.

"Well," he began, the words that left his mouth were laced with a tone unfamiliar to Josie's ears. "Y'know you're in my house... at my party."

The tension in the room was thick, palpable enough that the brunette girl thought she could almost grab at the air.

Rafe's shoe cladded foot collided with the pale green glass bottle that she had placed on the floor just moments ago.

"And that's my alcohol you're drinking there."

He took a few more steps towards her, almost closing the distance between them entirely, his tall muscular frame was now towering over her with his hand pressed firmly against the wall behind her.

"So I'd fix that attitude."

Rafe rolled his eyes and turned around, he began walking back towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks.

"Why are you here?" He turned back around and let his eyes rake up and down Josie's frame.

"It's a party, who's going to turn down free booze?" Josie exclaimed in an almost deadpanned expression.

The man let out a low chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor momentarily.

"Who said it's free?" He smirked knowingly at Josie before finally turning around and beginning to walk out of the door.

"See ya, Jo"

And with that, he left the room, leaving Josie with nothing but a lingering headache and the faint smell of his cologne.

[elena-fishr]

can’t believe I’ve done 30 chapters of plotless valenfield, when will I finally get it together and commit to planning a narrative girl never lmao

Here, the latest entry of plotless re crack fic that is🤞hopefully🤞 enjoyable

Contrary to popular belief Chris Redfield could enjoy the arts. He’d been a lifelong music fan and always encouraged Claire’s drawing hobby even when she wasn’t very good. 

What Chris never understood was the high value of paint splatters over canvas. As he stared at unappealing colors mingling together on a white background he decided rich people just like to waste their money.

“Chris.” 

Straightening his posture and ditching the champagne flute he was holding to a nearby counter, Chris promptly walked to his Captain’s side upon hearing his voice.

Wesker was in a sleek all black suit and stood next to what looked to be a glamorous celebrity.

Wesker introduced one of Raccoon City’s elites and contributors to the Gala, Vivian Harris. She was beautiful and was clearly born into her wealth. Chris couldn’t help but notice her dress, red and form fitting. 

“What do you think, Chris?” She asked. Vivian had an elegance and poise that was foreign to Chris. It actually made him nervous, especially when he saw that Wesker had suddenly left.

“Of what? The art?” 

She hummed an affirmative. “I saw you looking.” She sidled up close, the air thickened and Chris found it much harder to breathe with her overwhelming perfume tickling his nose. 

God, was he supposed to be honest? What if the artist was a good friend of hers? Chris avoided her gaze to look at the various displays around the exclusive club he would otherwise not be permitted to enter if it weren't for this party that STARS officers were invited to.

He didn’t want to fuck up. This was the Chief’s big event to impress the city Mayor. Offending a rich and notable fixture in the community was not going to lead him to any promotions. 

“They’re fine.” He said with no particular zeal. He really should get better at lying. 

Vivian seemed to accept the answer. Chris’ chest tightened when she stepped closer, her hand traced over the tie to his suit. “Albert had told me about his special task force. Tell me, what position do you fill?” She purred.

Chris tried to duck the heiress and her advances respectfully. He couldn’t help but feel set up by Wesker with how  fast he fled the scene once Chris arrived. 

Bastard.

“Excuse me, miss.” Chris said quickly but she had grabbed his hand.

“You’re a lot younger than someone I would expect to see on such an experienced force. You must be very impressive out in the field.” She was one to talk, she looked young. As a matter of fact, she looked like she could be Claire’s age of 18.

Chris held in a labored sigh that begged to be released. Chris assumed her life was missing some excitement so she latched onto him to get her thrills. “I only wish to do my job, ma’am.” Under no circumstances was he ever trying to be impressive, at least that’s what he told himself. Once in a while his competitive streak would come out and he’d show off. Those occasions became more rare as time went on. 

“So humble.” She playfully teased and tugged his tie, pulling him back to her. Chris jumped as her hand boldly curled around his arm and squeezed, feeling his bicep. 

Chris took her hand and gently removed her grip as he desperately searched his surroundings. There had to be someone he could shift this girl onto. Barry would be ideal, he could talk anyone’s ear off. 

“Miss” Chris began, his tone was serious and uninviting but it didn’t slow her down.

“Call me Viv, there’s no need to be so formal.” She prowled even closer, to the point where her chest was pressed obscenely tight to his body. 

A hard boundary was crossed and Chris didn’t care how it looked, he stepped back allowing her to stumble as he put an appropriate amount of distance between them. 

Vivian’s arms waved as she tried to catch her balance and her thin heels wobbled. Chris, despite himself, offered a hand for her to hold before she lost it completely and fell on her face. Once she was steady he yanked his arm back. “I— uh.” Chris looked around for Barry again. He needed that man right now more than ever. 

“Chris!” 

Chris’ head whipped around. It was just the woman he didn’t want to see. 

“Jill?” 

She strode up, her eyes not connecting with Vivian at all. “Your landlord has been trying to reach you, there’s huge septic problem at your place. Toilets are backed up and sewage is bubbling up through the shower.”

Only then did Jill look at a thoroughly disgusted Vivian.

Chris tried not to look too happy about this news. With a forced frown on his face, Chris adjusted his suit and excused himself. He could feel Jill by his side all the while.

“You’re so clever.” He said, knowing what she said was a lie because Chris didn’t have a landlord. He bought his own house, unwilling to be living under someone else’s roof. 

“I did it for her, it was getting painful to watch.” 

Chris’s eyebrows ticked up. “You were watching the whole time?” 

“Just about.” 

Chris’ throat tightened and he fought the urge to loosen his collar even more. It was unnerving being watched without knowing, even more so when it was his own partner. “Wow. You must be bored.” 

“Not really, not after witnessing Captain Wesker successfully whore you out.” 

Chris gritted his teeth together. So it was that obvious to anyone in the room? “What an asshole.” Chris said softly, and meant it wholeheartedly. He trusted he could say that in front of Jill. 

As they walked toward the back the crowds thinned out and the classical music faded into faint background noise. “He wasn’t successful.” Chris finally said, still bothered by the whole thing. 

Ever since he started at STARS he felt like some pawn for Wesker. Perhaps that was the perks of being a captain, Chris would never like being under someone’s thumb. 

But he did want a promotion, so he’d had to accept Wesker’s authority for now.

Jill softened, they stood near each other but didn’t dare to do more than just that. “I wasn’t going to let her get away with any more than what she did. Do you know who she is?”

“Some rich guy’s daughter? I was as polite as I could be.” 

“That was the Mayor’s daughter.”

Chris fell into a cringe, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. “Why didn’t I see that? Holy fuck.” 

“Her last name is Harris—“

“I know.”

“You knew and still didn’t connect the dots? The mayor’s name is Clive Harris—“

“I KNOW!” The sting of humiliation hadn’t worn off.

Jill stood quietly next to him. He could tell she was enjoying this. Reveling in his mistakes. 

“I think she liked you a lot.” 

Chris grunted his displeasure. 

“Wesker won’t be happy about your performance.”

Chris blew a long, suffering sigh and set his gaze on Jill. He really did hate these formal city events. “Save me, Jill.”

“I already did.”

“Keep saving me.” 

It was supposed to be a joke, but the silence that followed was heavy and Chris’ hand tentatively sought for her.

It was ridiculously stupid. He couldn’t have picked a worse time or place to be so forward. This was Jill, and she deserved— well, perfection. At the least, a gentleman. The fabric of her dress was oddly cool. Chris stilled his fingertips on her waist, he couldn’t take it back. There was no passing it off as an accidental brush of his hand, not with the way he was looking at her.

Hardly hidden in an alcove, he hoped no one had seen them wander this way. Jill stepped in close, her thigh against his leg. Together they fell a few steps back, deeper in the shadow of the alcove. Chris had a firmer, more confident hold on her waist now and she was smiling. He bit down on his lip to save himself from saying something foolish. Throat tight and heart hammering in his chest, he couldn’t trust himself.

Chris’ back thudded against something solid, the dead end of the alcove where the light couldn’t reach but he could still make out Jill’s eyes and her wicked smile. 

Chris let himself return the gesture. Grinning and letting the slip of her dress bunch up around her hips. His tight throat escalated into a light head as her legs straddled one of his. 

As his hand went to caress Jill’s thigh, the rough mesh texture was a jolting surprise. “Tights?” He grumbled.

“There’s a slit on this dress and,” a light scrap from her fingernail along his jaw set him on edge. “I wanted to look professional.” 

 Chris scoffed at her. “Yeah, real professional.” He emphasized with a nudge of his leg. Jill fell into his chest, her breath had staggered and she fisted his once nicely pressed suit. 

“Do that again.” She sighed and Chris was briefly paralyzed by shock. He thought she’d back off, she always did. Chris had played with her already accepting that he’d just be taking a cold shower tonight and now suddenly Jill was up for risking their positions at the RPD for what? She’d never forgive him or herself if they fucked up. 

Chris took a hold of the back of her neck and brought Jill up for a patient kiss. “We keep it professional. Remember?” He said into her cheek and felt her nod in agreement. 

“While we’re on duty.” Jill whispered. Her hand lingered on his chest. “It’s just been a bad night.” 

“Agreed.” 

Jill groaned and fixed her dress, then she adjusted Chris’ suit. He smiled as she straightened his tie and smoothed out the extra folds in his jacket. “What? It’s not like you’re gonna care to do it.” 

“Yeah, but you’re making me look nicer than how I arrived.” 

Jill snorted and motioned for him to turn around. “Let me check the back.” 

Chris did as she asked, as pointless as it seemed. “Yeah, sure just check the back—“ before a single sane thought could assemble, Chris’ forearm struck hard against the looming shadowed figure that was apartently behind himself and Jill that whole time. 

“What is it?” Alert, Jill grabbed his jacket in a tight grip in case she needed to pull him back from impending danger, wrinkling it all over again.

“We didn’t reach the back wall.” Chris tugged at a maroon cloth half covering the tall figure. With a cloud of dust, the cover revealed what could only be described as a stuffed black bear. It was life-like, the eyes still reflecting what little light there was, teeth bared, sharp, and pointed toward the viewer. Plenty of things about it were weird, but something that stuck out to Jill was that the fur of it was certainly black and it was also unnaturally huge.

“Aren’t black bears the small, nicer ones?” 

Chris wore disgust on his face and backed away from the fine piece of taxidermy. “Unfucking believable.” He cursed and reached for the dust cloth to cover the beast with again. “As if we need reminders that Chief Irons is a lunatic. Can’t he keep these things in his own private property.” 

Jill shrugged, still curious about the creature. She almost wishes Chris hadn’t covered it up so quickly. “We are at a gala, maybe this is where he buys them?” 

“He doesn’t hunt them himself?” Chris’ laugh was cruel. “He’s pitiful.” 

“I’m just assuming.” Jill added, but she never did hear of the chief taking hunting trips. He just had a bizarre yet impressive collection of art and preserved animals.

Chris nudged at Jill’s shoulder, he was ready to get out of here. “What’s even more suspicious to me is how he can even afford such uniquely useless shit.” 

A chuckle slipped past Jill’s lips. “Don’t speak out your suspicions. You’ll get put on a list.” Jill let Chris pass her to lead the way when patches of dust covering his suit caught her eye. “Hold on, let me pat you down.” 

Jill clapped out the dust on his sleeve when imperfect piano playing came in strong, Chris and Jill’s heads jerked in unison toward the sound. It was close.

Coming to the edge of the alcove Jill could see it was the new Bravo recruit. She sat at the piano in the back with no one other than Alpha’s very own Captain as a private audience.

“She’s… she still must be learning.” Jill had a small, embarrassed smile on her face. “She’s getting some notes wrong.” 

Apparently Jill was some musical savant. Chris didn’t think so, she always complained about his music, which he thought was good. Rock and metal wasn’t to her taste like— well whatever this was. “I don’t know what she’s playing. It sounds alright to me.” 

The look of distaste on Jill’s face was comical. “It’s Chopin.” Chris shrugged. They could do this effortlessly, argue just for the sake of it. It was like a wall that kept them safe from each other. Kept them professional. “Captain cannot be seriously impressed by this. Look at his face! He doesn’t even look at—“ 

“At you that way.” Chris finished for her. 

Jill brushed him off. “At his own team with such reverence.” Wesker was cruel when it came to praise. Alpha team fought for it, Jill most of all, but excellence was just the expectation. Anything less and you’re a disgrace.

Except when it came to miss Bravo. “She must be doing something right, Jill.” Chris crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find the off notes in her playing. “Because Wesker is like what, forty? This girl looks like Claire’s age, there’s no way he’s trying to pursue her. Right?” 

It made him sick thinking about it. Wesker didn’t show interest in anyone, he was the interest. 

“I doubt he’s trying to romance a rookie.” Jill whispered. “He’s too professional.” 

Chris snorted. “Not as professional as us.” 

Jill narrowed her eyes at Chris and then cringed at a misplayed note. Even Chris heard that one. “This is weirder than the bear.” 

“And we're trapped here.” Chris mumbled. “We can’t just casually walk past, can we?” 

Tension filled between Jill’s brows. “No.” Her stomach sank. 

Chris sighed and it was a little too loud. Jill pressed a finger to her lips, the universal sign for shut up.

The playing stopped and they watched Captain Wesker take hold of Rebecca Chamber’s chin between his thumb and forefinger to lift up her head. Jill crashed into Chris, wordlessly demanding that the retreat back toward the depths of the alcove again.

“I’d rather be by the bear!” 

[mshexley]

Favorite Women in Video Games

Since it's Women's History Month now, I wanted highlight some of my favorite women in video games. I already planned to make a video about it but I've never committed to a monthly thing here (even if I don't have much to say about some of them other than "I just think they're neat" lol)

This is no set order other than who I felt like doing today.

Day 1 - Eshe (Palia)

If you're someone who absolutely hates Mayor Lewis as a governing body in Stardew Valley, then Eshe is for you.

(She's not any better in the relationship department though)

While she's not actually the Mayor, her husband is often so bad at his job (to the point he brought an invasive species to Kimila) that she has to pick up his slack.

Her actual job is as Kilima Valley's Magistrate and she can always be found roaming the town making sure it's functioning perfectly. Her most notable trait is that she is a BITCH...and I love her for that.

(Image via RissaCrochets on Reddit)

I don't see the old asshole with a heart of gold portrayed in female characters often and I blame this subconscious need people have for female characters to remain likeable 24/7 and with this being a game where you have to actually pursue friendships with these characters, a lot of people actually ignore Eshe because of first impressions.

But from the moment your character is introduced to Eshe, I INSTANTLY knew she'd be my favorite. Mainly because she reminds of the best qualities of my mother and maternal grandmother. (and I'm fond of fictional women that give off mean lesbian energy. Though Eshe is more than likely bisexual)

Her desire for perfection in the town and her family comes primarily from a place of pride and making sure the town keeps running smoothly. It also obviously comes from a place of spite due to her history with Kenli's sister, Kenyara.

(If you don't know what's going on with them then here's a hint: You can summarize that people in Kenli's family have "Ken" in their names but what reason is there for Kenli's sister to name her own son: Eshelon?????)

Eshe is basically a character that wants to stunt on their ex and I think that's funny.

And none of this is to say that she's all the way misunderstood, she has her objectively bad parts such as pushing Kenyatta down a route that Kenyatta clearly doesn't want to go down and she's rude to folks based on perceptions about them like Reth. She's very much a rich bitch.

(Image via Ne0Br0wn on Reddit)

Funnily, enough, she does try in her own way.

Eshe doesn't like asking Hassan for leather but she does it anyway if you're not around. She still goes to Reth for a meal even if she knows he can't or won't make it on the off chance he'll change his mind and she's not as much of a buzzkill when it comes to Zeki either, she's not really hunting him down, she's merely waiting for a slip (such as some of the folks that offered her contraband despite Zeki telling you to avoid her).

Like even though she doesn't love him the way she loved (or maybe still loves Kenyara), she clearly still cares about Kenli. As much as she rags on him, she's not gonna let others do it, especially in front of her.

And when it comes to her daughter, she's doing the typical thing that parents do and assuming to completely know best for her. She's no different than other portrayals of the helicopter parent.

She frequently holds events at her house and invites everyone in town even if she's not fond of them. She hosts your Shepp party at her house and goes out of her way to make sure it's perfect. It's both a display of wealth but a way of reassuring her constituents that she has things handled even if her husband doesn't.

Even in the quest that introduces Subira, she goes to people skilled in their craft like Reth and Tish (who both need some help from you) as a means of showing off her community with the implication being that she'll be very pissed off if Subira disrespects everyone's work.

She's not perfect and she's honestly not trying to be in places where it doesn't matter to her but she does her job. Kilima is still chugging and she's a big part of that.

Next ➡

[fromville-divorce-lawyer]

We need headcanon about Jade before fromville

I'm stoked about this ask, so this is going to be waaaay too long! I have a very specific perspective on this as a software engineer for a small company that was sold recently for a lot. (Sadly, I did not get all that money.)

In the beginning, I wasn't sure what to think of Jade. My experience in tech has shown me two common types of tech guys (tho not limited to only these two) 

1. Men who are the smartest person in the room and 2. Men who only think they’re the smartest person in the room. 

Unfortunately, the average person (and average television writer) tends to think the ones who display the behaviors of the latter are the former. (The best example of this is thinking Elon Musk is a tech genius when he is/was only rich and good at talking.)

With Jade, I wasn’t sure which we were getting. From his original cockiness, I expected another Elon Musk parallel. Fortunately, we got the opposite. Sure, he’s rich. But that’s where the Musk similarities end. I can’t exactly detail why, but Jade reminds me of the guys I’ve worked with who are extremely competent software engineers and the chill guys who created my company.

So, circling back to the original question. Before Fromville, some things we know about Jade are that he formed a company that did quantum computing, he sold it for multiple millions, he’s “done a fuckton of drugs”, and he frequently used unusual techniques like forming the symbol out of bottles to get a new perspective on a problem.

Given all that, I think Jade was one of the kids that found school so easy that he tended to look for activities to keep himself from going stir crazy. He used weed to slow his mind down and relax and psychedelics for entertainment. 

Jade saw the need to take time to relax (his “proclivities”), so people at his company probably had a good work-life balance. He spent his time off work hanging out with mostly Tobey and he didn’t have many other straight male friends because, as a bisexual man, he couldn’t relate to cis white male culture.

He probably had a partner or employee who helped him with stuff like not pissing off investors the way he’s pissed off everyone in the town.

When he lamented to Bakta, it made it seem like the sale of his company was very recent. He and Tobey might have been on their way home from celebrating the sale, and Jade never actually got to use his new wealth. (Like Bakta never got to quit her job.)

[mercysought]

How does Maxima feel about literally being welcomed into the fold of the Tethras family considering her own complex and complicated relationship with her family? Does she enjoy the home made cards from the girls?

unprompted asks my beloved . @extravagantliar (and a bit of @martyrmarked)

Outwardly? She will never say anything, because that is just? Too close to home? It is too much? It touches on parts that are too human and make her as something that is more... human? Real. To borrow a quote from a meme I wrote (here, if you want to read it) from a time before Maxima was Maxima, when she was only Daphné, a pretty circle Mage from Montsimmard that has always been lucky.

"[...] Now, is it the way that I dress? Perhaps, I've had more than a handful of people feel threatened by the wealth on display. Some people also are very uncomfortable with having someone... well, like me" pausing, she gives the other a significant look to the other. What the 'like me' could mean, stays up to interpretation of her expression. Like her. Someone designed to the shape and details of the 'other woman', the shape of a married man's desires. The form of someone who could fulfill a void of any kind. Of a bird that sang as ordered "around their loved ones. [...]"

Maxima has always operated under a single belief: become who you need to become in order to survive, and that means to be someone that either people cannot live without or because people love you too much to let anything happen to you.

The shape of a person is always designed, her actions, every single action is calculated to present - hopefully - the best end result for her. From the way she dresses, to what she eats, what she drinks. She isn't, if she can avoid it, real. Real in the sense of someone that has problems with alcohol, real in the sense of someone that has feelings that can get hurt. Someone with dreams and expectations of life. As a circle mage, she didn't have that. And as a elf-blooded girl from montsimmard, when not even the elves there wanted to be around her, this was as close to a dream life as she could really have.

She has always been lucky. Lucky to be born pretty, to be born a mage, to be good at singing. To be charming enough to earn her a position outside of the circle. A bit more freedom than anyone else. And she dreads the day her luck will run out. She is a fantasy, for the most part, especially when she is youngest and feels the most unsafe.

Internally it's not something that really hits her well into Veilguard? I think Sid's and Varric's girls are probably the only children she can really stand outside of Regulus. She keeps their postcards on her desk and then neatly put away in one of her desks, probably alongside anything that Regulus writes to her as well. Though, realistically, Regulus' letters will likely never be as personal as Varric's girls. She is their cool, very rich aunt and that probably always keeps them at an arm length while still maintaining a level of warmth. It is odd? She never thought that anyone's family would be so keen in having her around.

For any reason. And on some level she understands that this is part of the exchange. They are business partners, at this point they have been for years and this is part of the package. She grows protective of them far beyond a 'this is just smart business', they are real and she does come to love them even if that is too tender of a thing for Maxima.

Truthfully, Maxima probably doesn't get super involved in many family rituals, she would feel it's not her place and she wouldn't even know what to do, what to say. However, she does always make sure to leave some personal note, some gifts, something that will be truly nice. For Sid, Varric and the girls, even if she herself is not there. It will always be work, after all, that is her ultimate spouse. But the reality is that it would be too much.

In any case, by Veilguard Maxima has taken a far firmer hand in making sure that Sid never needs anything and that she is protected. She also makes sure that Orkney knows they have made their biggest mistake of their lives (She is petty, what can you do?) If the girls need tutors, Maxima will make sure to find the best of them, if they need protection they will have her resources at their disposal. It is a sort of deep familial love but not one that is really spoken about? One that is acknowledged? It just is and is allowed to just exist for if she looks at it directly it might disappear in a plume of smoke.

She deeply appreciates it though, and she does invite them to visit on occasion and lets the girls run around in her gardens, around the white rose brushes she has.

[houseofbrat]

I swear KP’s crack team is comms interns are reading this blog.

Trying to make Meghan Antoinette happen was a worse chance at succeeding than Cathy Antoinette being granted the right to issue Royal warrants. Unlike Cathy, Meggie is not a public servant and does not have access to tax free millions or funding from the Sovereign Grant.

Invictus Games kicks off today so besides the two irrelevant attendees, what stunts do you think KP have planned?

I'm not really interested in defending Harry's wife, and I'm not even going to defend her, but this article is really reaching!

No, I don’t want to be that person who comments every time the Duchess of Sussex posts on Instagram. Not me, no siree. Yet here I am again, unable to resist the siren call of her irresistible absurdity, drawn to this cyber porthole into Meghan’s psyche like a ghoul slowing down to feast on the gory specifics of a motorway pile-up. On Wednesday, the Marie Antoinette of Montecito took to Instagram for the fourth time since she relaunched herself on the social media site at the start of the year.

Remind me, Jan Moir, where you live in California and are able to judge the extreme wealth existing in the Santa Barbara area compared to Harry & his wife? Harry & his wife are paupers compared to the actual billionaires that live in Montecito.

"No, I don’t want to be that person who comments every time the Duchess of Sussex posts on Instagram."

I can't believe she began with that because it's so obvious she IS writing about Harry's wife every time she posts on instagram. Does she have nothing else to write about in her column? Slow news week in the UK? Really nothing else to write about except that nothingburger reel? Really?!

I saw that reel and my first thought was the Ozempic face. Scary. Everyone who saw that reel knows that she didn't need publicize her "good deed" for this teenager. It's nice she did what she did, but it's plainly obvious that she was looking for something to post about. She clearly has nothing to post about, and none of the celebrities she name checked in her reel responded to it. Just straight-up famewhoring.

But how does basic social-media famewhoring equate to Marie Antoinette? How? NOTHING in this article is Marie Antoinette worthy? Nothing in that instagram reel is going to cue pitchforks and a request for a guillotine. It's a lame reel where her desperation to be acknowledged & celebrated is full-on display. If you want an American celebrity who can be compared to Marie Antoinette, try a Kardashian. That would be actually on point.

Am I supposed to believe that the people who read Moir's column are completely ignorant of all the other super rich people in Montecito? Why would Harry's wife qualify as a "Marie Antoinette of Montecito" when Ted Sarandos's wife lives in Montecito. Yes, Ted Sarandos who made $50 million in 2022 alone and bought an expensive mansion from Ellen Degeneres that wasn't on markdown, unlike The Olive Garden monstrosity. Ted Sarandos's wife, Nicole Avant, would qualify as the "Marie Antoinette of Montecito" just due to the extreme wealth her husband has been given by his company.

But Harry's wife? She's an unimportant celebrity in the US. No one cares about her! NO ONE! Except her minuscule fan club. Columns like this make it look like the UK press is trying to make Meghan happen. Just like fetch!

No, you have to be an actual ROYAL with a lightweight career to make a "Marie Antoinette" accusation stick. Being just another celebrity in the SoCal environment doesn't qualify, regardless of how many haters she has. No one in the U. S. of A. is going to show up at The Montecito Olive Garden with pitchforks demanding her head. Hardly anyone knows she still exists, except those like Jan Moir who write columns to remind us of her existence and activities.

No, to really qualify as a modern-day "Marie Antoinette" you have to

be known for your exhaustive closet

be known as lazy

spend more time on your personal life than a normal person who works a regular job/occupation

solely focus on frivolous causes, i.e. feelings over food.

be an actual royal

have a vast majority of your country of residence hate you

Moir's vapid article struggles to connect Harry's wife to those basic points. Also, apparently Jan Moir has no idea what is actually going on in California and/or the USA because she seems to not realize that no one actually cares about Harry & his wife. They are nobodies in the US. They should be glad that they got a Vanity Fair cover recently because everyone forgot they existed and will go back to forgetting they exist!

Now, for KP & Kate, well...tell me, will Kate be wearing another pantsuit when she appears in public again? Sporting the kick-ass colors of black, gray, brown, or white? Or will she decide she can wear bold colors or pastels with her next pantsuit?

When you're getting columnists in the DM to use the "Marie Antoinette" accusation against someone most people forgot about, then you're telling me you're prepping for pr crisis without saying you're prepping for a pr crisis.

And to those KP folks who are reading this, start working on getting another job while you still can!