#they always look so different on the actual model compared to the little color square

[falmerbrook]

The most difficult thing I have struggled with so far in eso is trying to get my female character to look bulky. This is a complete cobbling of styles but I think I'm satisfied with this for now

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

soooo shhhh this actually a part one shhhh but i’m just trying out writing out different things and getting out some of my ideas outta my head that i’m really excited about, this one being one of them!! for now...just pretend that this is just a regular ol’ drabble hehehehe. this part is the set-up chapter (shhh i mean drabble) 

One

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst 

Tags: (overall) bodyguard au, moderndayprince!chan, bodyguard!reader, secret agent au, royal au, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, softswitch!chan, hardswitch!reader, some skz side characters, jeongin third wheel and comedic relief LOL, travelling, chan being expensive and having a lil bit of a superiority complex, flirtyyyy chan, bits of mystery, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, idk think like 007 vibes hehe 

CWs: guns and gun violence, a shooting in a ballroom, mentions of blood 

Word count: 4.6k 

Parts

ONE | TWO 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here early.” 

“Well, expect the unexpected.” 

“Don’t turn the motto back at me. I’m sick of hearing it so many damn times.” 

“What? You and I both know that it’s true. You’re here early too, so, technically you don’t get to say anything.” 

Jeongin straightened his bow tie, then patted down the sides of his perfectly ironed tux with not a crinkle to be found. Knowing him, it was a miracle that he hadn’t messed it up in some form yet. He promptly took out his pocket square to clean off his glasses. 

“You’re looking nice. Seems like they don’t mind spending money now on you these days.” He blew off the flecks of dust on his lenses. 

“They know that they get their return on their investment. And thank you.” 

You smoothed down the sides of your dusty pink dress that nearly went all the way down to your ankles. Had you any other choice, it would’ve been something different, but, dresses were really good at hiding your thigh holster compared to the slacks you usually favored. You didn’t mind the times that you would have to put on a pretty dress, it somewhat reminded you that there was normal life outside of your job. Not to mention, they had started sending you jewelry as well. You always had liked the look of a diamond necklace. 

“You do your research for tonight?” 

Jeongin nodded, then took from his pocket his phone to read over the details. 

“I’ve done a background check on everyone attending, we shouldn’t have any issues. It’s already a low risk event anyway. Charity is never something to get too worked up over, but, you never know with the detail that some of these people come with...who they might be tied to...” 

“--The only people we can trust is ourselves.” You nodded with arms crossed. 

“Expect the unexpected, I know.” He slid his phone back into his inside suit pocket to adjust his cufflinks. 

“--Nervous?” You took note of his fidgeting actions. 

“Nervous? No. I’ve been through this before. You know that.” 

You flicked your partner right on his forehead strung with his white hair. You had really wished that he had picked a less conspicuous color, but he had strings to pull that you didn’t. 

Jeongin cleared his throat, “You do your once over?” 

“Do you even need to ask? I did it hours ago and when we arrived. You know that I’ve done this before too.” 

“I know. I know.” 

Jeongin looked out at the vast circular atrium that made up the center of the hotel. Several stories down under the glass rooftop, you could hear the faint sprinkling of the intricate fountain which smelled of copper. A bit further down, you could see the tips of the tree branches from the indoor landscaping. Across the way, a door slammed with residents tucking in their ties. The two men you had recognized from the roster: a simple thing which made you feel at ease. Your young partner must’ve started to have an effect on you. A sense of unease seemed to quell in your neck. You always listened to your hunches. 

“W-what do you think he thinks of us?” Jeongin broke the silence. 

“Well,” From inside the room you had waited outside, you could hear his distant murmuring, so you lowered your tone. “I think that he has yet to trust us. It’s only been a few weeks. He doesn’t seem like the kind to give himself up easy. That, and I’m sure his resentment of his father must have some influence.” 

“You think he hates us?” 

“I think he hates his father for hiring us. I mean, wouldn’t you? His old security detail, he had them for years.” 

“I guess so. But, we’re not like his old detail.” 

“No. We’re not. I don’t think he gets that yet. I think he sees us as one more way his father has a hold on him.” 

“It’s not like he can do much else about it when his dad’s a kin--” 

“--No, no, thank you, really, it’s lovely. Some of your best work. Thank you.” 

Chan swung open the door to his room, stopping Jeongin right in his sentence. 

“Ah. You’re here already. That’s...punctual.” 

As dazzling and showy as ever, Chan looking nothing short of a magazine model. For a prince, he had certain...appearances that he had to maintain. Today, it was a velvety and maroon suit jacket with a white button up. On the collar, two matching brooches had been perfectly placed, and they were silver like moonlight in the shape of English ivy and adorned with diamonds. On his lapel, he wore the royal insignia of the lion and the wolf. Behind him, you could see his slew of stylists cleaning up their makeup kits and obscene assortment of designer dress shoes for him to pick from. You had thought before that he even smelled like royalty: stuffy white roses with a hint of priceless cognac. 

Jeongin bowed his head respectfully. “Everything has been prepared for tonight. The rest of your guards are surrounding the building, and I’ll be corresponding with them as needed, your Highness.” He tapped at his earpiece. 

Chan drew his attention over to you, giving you a rather lusty glare. Over the past couple weeks, you had gotten used to it. He was a prince to every extent of the word. If there was anything that he had wanted, he simply had to ask. It drove him insane that all he could do was merely look at you. You had  wondered if he harbored anything else for you besides the way that he would devour the curves of your shoulders and hips. 

“Fox. Bee. You look nice tonight. I like seeing you dressed up. Makes me feel less out of place.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little sound of discontentment over his rather affectionate nickname for you. You and your partner had been introduced to him as F and B. Quickly he had figured out Jeongin’s codename as Fox, considering that he had done a poor job picking out one that wasn’t related to him at all. Anyone could tell that boy was fox-like, and he also just wasn’t that creative when it came to picking out a name for himself. B, or Bee as he had decided, was your name; as in bumblebee. After learning about Fox, he figured that there was an animal theme going, so Bee seemed to fit best in his oponion. 

You tested his glare with your best, “Thank you, your Highness.” 

Jeongin gulped. “Your assistant should be waiting downstairs with your itinerary. She told me that you should meet her first off.” 

“You work too hard F. Have some fun tonight, hm? But don’t...drink too much. You’re responsible for my life remember?” Chan clapped his bodyguard on the back. 

Your partner nervously laughed and adjusted his glasses once more: his preferred tic. 

“And Bee?” Chan rose a brow to lean into close and whisper. “Stay close, alright?” 

“Of course, your Highness.” 

Chan let out a little scoff after getting one more proper look at your frame. “Damn. You really are stunning. Just a little too dangerous for me though.” 

You rolled your eyes, dishing him outa, “Whatever you say, your Highness.” 

Jeongin threw you and annoyed glare before tracing after Chan as he sauntered down the hall to the glass elevator. 

“Bee? You coming? Or do you have something better to do?” Chan’s voice called down the hall with an echo and a little teasing gesture of his hand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It had been seven years since you had chosen this line of work, and each time that you had to go to one of these things, you hated them more and more. Not because they were hard to control--they were easy--but you just hated how many superficial and self-absorbed people that they could fit into one room. 

The air was filled with the scent of champagne bubbles and too much Chanel No. 5. From corner to corner of the room, and even next to the ice sculpture of the lion and the wolf crest, silk, satin; velvet and the best cotton could be found. Long gloves covered the arms of ladies with wrinkling skin, and tweed vests held in the guts of men who indulged in their food just as much as their mistresses. All this effort just to appear as if they had given one care about the philanthropic efforts of the royalty.

Several neatly dressed waiters passed you with golden platters of hors d'oeuvres made of ingredients so expensive, they would’ve cost the same amount as the generous donations made by the attendees. If you could’ve, you would’ve scooped up as many of them as you could, just to eat all of their copious amounts of money yourself, but, there was somewhere a rule that you had to keep your hand to yourself when you were on duty. The best that you had to look forward too was take-out to eat at 3 in the morning with Jeongin later. 

Buzzing chatter filled your earpiece while each of the additional guards gave their hourly report. 

“Damn. It’s fucking colder out here than I thought. It’s fucking summer.” One of them joked to the tune of the other guards laughter. 

“Stay focused.” Jeongin scolded over the line. “Don’t leave your posts until your shifts change.” 

While he was a timid man, Jeongin was not one to mess around. Son of the director, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. After pleading for years for her to admit him into the academy, she had agreed. Everyone knew the reason why she didn’t want him in this line of work. Too many dead. Too many missing. In some ways, he was also yours to look after. 

You trailed after Chan who was busy talking to his assistant and his publicist. While he nodded at their words, you knew that he must’ve been barely listening. Chan never really was one for formality, but much rather enjoyed simplicity and pleasure. Jeongin and you had somewhat of a bet going: out of all the guests, you had liked to bet which one he would take with him to his bedroom. Since you had all the profiles of the guests, you liked to bet a little money on which one it would be. 

Jeongin had guessed it to be the heiress and daughter of a tycoon who had made a multi-million won donation in the name of his company. It was ironic; his very company was a big-scale pollutor who liked to make nice with the crown. She was conventionally very pretty: long legs, a thin frame, she was educated and looked as if she could hold somewhat of a conversation...not like that mattered to him. 

You had predicted it to be the foreign CEO who had just started business dealings with the crown. While she might’ve looked a bit stuck-up and prim, she was intimidating, and a challenge. Chan loved challenges. Chan also had a pension for pretty boys with a bit too much money on their hands--usually inherited--and with nothing much else to do other than dote on him. There were plenty of those attending the gala tonight. 

Chan snaked through the crowd, bowing his head at all of the Good evening, your Highnesses and the It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highnesses. Every few moments or so he would take a bite from a golden plate and then pop it into his mouth. The whole night long, he would hold his glass with him and it would get refilled for him without him even needing to ask. You sometimes liked to pretend that in some places, they must’ve assigned someone to watch him from afar to make sure that he would never need anything before it was given to him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“Having fun Bee?” Chan languidly rolled his head back, swirling his glass. 

“As much fun as you are.” You quipped. 

“Anything that I should be concerned about?” 

“Nothing of concern.” You stated matter-of-factly. Had you matched his flirting tone, you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. “Fox. Report?” 

“Nothing that I can see. No one has been tagging you.” Jeongin had staked himself up on the upper balcony of the banquet hall room, and had been watching for as long as you had been following after the prince. “You sensing anything strange?” His voice tickled in your in-ear. 

“Just a bunch of the normal crowd.” You kept your tone down low. “He’s rubbing noses with the usual. You’ve seen too?” 

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

You followed Chan to his seat nearest the front of the room which had been fashioned into a stage with a clear glass podium in the center. Right in front there was one more crest decorating it. Chan had ensured it to be so: he had wanted everyone to know that this was all for his charity. 

“It seems like our bets aren’t working out. He hasn’t talked to either of the...suspects.” Your partner changed his choice of words knowing that the other guards were listening. 

From the opposite side of the room both the heiress and the CEO stood with thin glasses of wine in their lithe hands. Chan had in fact walked right past them, and didn’t even notice. 

“Tonight is going to be a long night.” Jeongin sighed over the line. 

You politely pushed past attendees with a raised hand and a sweet smile. You had found that when you smiled, you had appeared less intimidating. 

“Oh wait...what’s this?” 

“What?” You whipped your head around after Jeongin’s interjection. “What? Do you see something? What’s the call?” 

“Relax! It just looks like he’s approaching someone he wants to talk to. I think both of us are about to be proven wrong.” 

“Ah, shit.” You sighed. “Don’t put me on edge like that.” 

“I’m only trying to entertain myself.” 

“Name. Who is it? You’ve got the roster.” 

You partner was quiet for a minute, and you watched from a distance as Chan approached the man leaned over a martini seated at one of the perfectly decorated tables. 

“Uh, I think that he’s Lee Minho. Some kind of royalty from somewhere else. Pretty low ranking from the looks of it. I think that he made a donation himself...and it’s...damn, larger than you would expect.” 

“Should we be concerned?” 

“No. Seems harmless.” 

“Thank you for coming,” You made out the words that Chan had mouthed. He drew a chair next to the unknown man. 

From what you could tell, Lee Minho was handsome to the full extent of the word: nearly all of his physical features were exemplary and his suit appeared to have been fitted to perfect for him; likely one of a kind. He too wore an insignia on his lapel, but it was one that you hadn’t recognized before. He had immaculately styled hair that had some kind of rebellious and boyish charm to it. The man had a kind of mystery about him too: you had been able to pride yourself in being able to read people, and it had saved your life on more than one occasion. But with him, there was something that you couldn’t place. 

“Do they know eachother?” You asked Jeongin. 

“Not that I know of. School friend maybe? Seems like all the royals send their kids to the same schools.”

“Hm. That would make sense.” 

“Enjoying yourself?” Chan said. 

Lee Minho nodded, and rose his glass to clink it with the prince’s. 

“Do we think that he’s our...suspect?” 

The stranger dipped his head into his hand as he listened to Chan speak. A flirty gesture that you had seen a hundred times or more. Still, the way that he inspected Chan, it wasn’t adoring. Or at least, you didn’t think that it was.

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“What the hell are you yapping about?” One of the other guards snapped over the line. 

“Um, classified stuff.” Jeongin quickly explained. “Above your paygrade. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Fox. Watch out for him tonight.” You snuck over to a corner of the room where you could watch the two of them more discreetly. 

“Affirmative....” Your partner paused. “Babydoll.” 

“Pffff--Babydoll??” The same guard stifled his laughter. “You call her Babydoll, Fox? Damn, you all must be closer than I thought. Didn’t know that I was missing out on some of the action--” 

“--Ever heard of a codename, Three?” 

“Babydoll’s her codename.” 

A grin crept over your lips. “Expect the unexpected.” 

You had almost gotten distracted enough to miss how Lee Minho had leaned over to whisper something into the prince’s ear. After he had done so, Chan laughed out a little, then reached his arm around the other man’s chair comfortably. 

“They’re...cozy.” You updated your partner. 

“I’m trying to cross-check where he might know him from.” 

Chan’s assistant and publicist finally slipped away with giddy little smiles. In many ways, you were jealous of them. They could leave whenever the wanted, eat what they wanted...

Jeongin scoffed. “Well, turns out...nothing. I can’t find anything.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Negative. I’m not seeing any crossover.” 

“So they really are strangers?” 

Your partner sighed. “Looks like neither of us are cashing ou--I mean--finding the suspect.” 

Under your breath, you wondered aloud, “Who are you...Lee Minho?” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The night drew on longer with the rest of the formalities: the formal dinner, followed by several speeches from important people while dessert was being served. It all led up to the final act: His Royal Highness, Prince Chan’s speech. On several neat notecards marked with the crest, he held them in front of him while he ate his last bits of Mont Blanc Chocolate Pavlova. Even the name of the sweet itself sounded pretentious. Granted, it smelled delicious--as many expensive things did. 

You stifled a yawn from your little set up on the edge of the room. At least you should’ve been able to sit, but it turns out that sitting is also against the rules in this line of work. A couple other security and bodyguards had joined you at the edge: some of their heads nodded with sleep, and the others looked as if they had taken one too many energy shots. Luckily, your stamina had been well crafted. 

A fancily dressed MC made his way up to the podium and the room filled with applause after the last speaker had said all of their correct mandatory words. 

“It is my honor to introduce to the stage, our wonderful head benefactor of this organization, His Royal Highness, Prince Chan of the Crown. 

Applause tenfold of before erupted through the whole room and it wasn’t even an afterthought for the every attendee to stand up from their seats in an ovation. It was a force of habit for you, but you found yourself clapping as well. 

Chan rose with grace, and re-buttoned his jacket with finesse. A blinding spotlight found him and it made the diamonds adorning his beck wink brilliantly. Even more blinding was his pearl white, and perfectly trained smile accompanied by his wave. 

Thank you. Thank you. He mouthed. 

“It’s like he’s a frickin’ movie star.” Jeongin groaned. 

“Might as well be with the way that they treat him. You know deep down they’re all just terrified.” 

Chan made his way up to the stage in all of his regality, and the applause didn’t stop until he cleared his throat. A collective groaning of a couple hundred chairs squeaked when everyone sat back down. 

“Thank you everyone, really. I wanted to thank you all for your generous support in your donations to this organization, as well as your association with the crown. I’m sure that all the beneficiaries of your donations are beyond thankful compared to me. Without you, this would not be possible.” Chan spoke with grandiose gestures, as usual, but this time, he had found you on the side of the room. “Listen, aside from being a prince, I’m also just a person. A person who knows what it means to struggle, to--” 

“--I can’t listen to this anymore.” You whispered into the quiet room, and to your partner. 

“Just a few more hours.” He droned. “I almost wish that something would happen so that we don’t have to sit though much else of this.” 

“Be careful what you wish for.” 

In the corner of your eye, Lee Minho shifted in his seat, but still kept his undivided attention to the stage. You figured he must’ve been just like the rest of them: enamored by the flashiness of the crown--and Chan. He had a way of putting a spell on people: it was the kind of spell that a prince of deception had crafted after years of being kept under lock and key. 

“--Anyway, what I’m trying to say, royal or fanciful we all might be, in the simplest way, we’re all just people, therefore this is what connects us all. Thank you.” 

Chan was gifted yet another standing ovation that was somehow even more thunderous than before. 

“Yeah right.” You scoffed. “People born into money. There’s a difference.” 

Chan gave his last waves, then a clamor echoed from the back of the room. At first, it had just sounded like the same raucous laughter you had heard all night, but then it shifted to something different. The sound of laugher turned into shouting, then screams: high pitched and piercing. You had seconds to respond, head whipping around the room to catch sight of the confused prince. In your in-ears, the the sound of gunshots echoed with rapid-fire speed. Machine guns. Shouting commands barked in your ear, and muddled with Jeongin’s string of demands and questions. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE? REPORT! REPORT!” 

Your heart instantly started beating into hyperdrive, and your legs sprinted as fast has physically possible 

“THEY’VE GOT GUNS!” A shrill and cracked voice of an older woman wailed from the back of the room. 

Immediately after she had said so, shots fired into the darkened room with sparks, and the metallic sound of bullets hitting the marbled ground followed. 

Chan looked around in his panic for you, petrified on the stage. You slung your gun out from your thigh holster and latched onto him with all of your might. 

“TH-THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE IN THESE VANS. THEY’RE ARMOURED, WE CAN’T--” 

“Get the fuck down there and secure the exists!” Jeongin growled into his mic. “B--is the prince secure??” 

“Secure!” You yelled back. Using your body as a barrier, you led the cowering prince through the mass hysteria of the crowd. 

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” Chan shook under your iron grip. 

More shots fired into the room and bodies parted like the sea and fell over each other. 

From the balcony, you had caught Jeongin aiming his own gun at the chaos below. 

“I’ll cover you! Fuck! There’s so many of them! Get him to the car out back--Three, Six, meet B out there! Three!? Six!? Report!” 

“Three and Six are down F!” One of the guards panted. “I can provide cover out back!!” 

“Who’s speaking??” Jeongin bellowed, then aimed from above at one of the intruders. Your only focus was on weaving you and Chan out of there, but you had seen one of them in a blur. Each of the men with guns wore dark grey suits with black ties and leather gloves. Each of them wore their own crest: and it was all red. 

“Bee?? Bee???” Chan shouted out for you, and jumped every time the crack of a shot echoed in the ballroom. 

“I’ve got you, your Highness. We’ll be out soon. Keep your head down and listen to me.” Your arm held to him tightly, and you soon found the exit nearest. There was no telling if there would be more of them outside, but you loaded your gun quickly just in case, and pointed it out. 

“Jeongin, get your ass down here!” 

“Jeongin? Who the fuck is that??” Chan ducked down to hide himself behind your frame. 

His name had slipped on your tongue, but that hardly mattered. 

“I’ll be down in a second!!!” 

“Don’t fucking waste time up there when I need you down here!!” 

“Two! Two Reporting!!” A man suddenly yelled in your in-ear. “I’ve made it out back and I’ve secured the exit. The car is safe!!” 

“FOX! Now!” 

Your partner heaved, “I’m coming, I’m coming!!” 

You kicked open the exit door, gun’s still blazing, however one one else could be found on the other side. 

“Thank God,” You sighed. 

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick.” Chan had turned paler than white, then stumbled in your arms. 

“Hey, HEY!” You held him upright. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You need to trust me. Your life is in my hands and I’m not giving it up easy, got it?” 

“O-okay.” He stammered, then attempted to straighten himself. 

“The Prince is outside, repeat, The Prince is outside. Two, are you in position?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

Other than the fact that you had just escaped absolute peril, the evening was unbearably pleasant. Crickets chirped in the summer evening, and the humidity of the night smelled gorgeously of the lake that was near-by as well as the vast array of flowers that had been purposefully landscaped around the hotel. Chan’s uneven steps scraped at the gravel walkway. 

Since you had canvassed the whole building well, you had known exactly where the getaway car was, but you were still careful. 

“Bee. Bee!” Chan blabbered. “Have-have I told you yet that I-I’m in love with you?” 

“No, you haven’t Your Highness.” 

“I fucking am. If I die tonight, I want you to know that I am ridiculously in love with you, and fuck, I wanna--” 

“--I’m sorry, Your Highness, respectfully, but now is not the time for this and you are not dying on my watch.” 

Somewhere off in the distance, frogs croaked, and the splashing of fish in the lake plopped at the surface waters. You turned a corner to finally see Two waiting his his gun raised. He was a bit of a shorter and scrawnier man, but something about him told you that where he lacked in strength, he must’ve made up for in agility. 

“I’m out! I’m out!” Your partner gasped, and over the in-ear you could hear his running footsteps. “I’m almost there! I’ll be there in a second!” 

“Your Highness,” Two bowed and opened the car door. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Two or J. Either you prefer.” 

Jeongin came bounding around the corner with heaving breaths and his clothes askew. His glasses which just barely held onto his face had a crack on them and his knuckles were covered in blood. 

“Let’s go.” The younger man prompted. 

“In the car you go, Your Highness.” You motioned for him to do so. 

Chan whimpered like a toddler. 

You shoved his body in, “Stop that. Get in the car.” 

“I’m in love with you Bee!” He yelled out, “I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU BEE!” 

Jeongin slammed the door in his face with a bit of a chuckle. 

“He’s delirious.” 

“Mm.” your partner smiled. “Sure.” 

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ��you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[smokeonshadows]

We need to talk about the Bobbseys

Strap in, kids. This is going to be...a lot.

To put it bluntly, the way the Bobbseys were handled was messy, unnecessary, and probably the worst thing about an otherwise great season.

It's really disappointing because the Nancy Drew writers have already proven themselves to be not only good writers, but also socially conscious writers. They actively and publicly aim to be inclusive in their storytelling, so I think it's fair to hold them to that standard.

There was a lot of potential in the Bobbseys–they're a morally ambiguous brother-sister team of codependent twins from a rough/tragic past who sometimes lie, cheat, and steal in order to make ends meet. This is interesting, this is full of possibilities as to how they could fit in with the Drew Crew, and, most of all, this was a great opportunity to have complex representation of the south asian community that subverts popular stereotypes (model minority, traditional upbringing, perpetual foreigner, etc.). Amanda and Gil would've been great characters in their own rights...but instead they were used as nothing more than cannon fodder for an unnecessary, half-baked love square with low key racist undertones.

Problematic elements

I've already talked about the racist undertones in previous posts, but in a nutshell, Gil is portrayed as being controlling/aggressive/domineering (particularly towards Nancy and Amanda) and it's a stereotype that south asian men (and I'd say black and brown men in general) are misogynistic, aggressive, and otherwise abusive towards women. This portrayal is made even worse because he's meant to be a foil for Ace, a soft/gentle/sensitive/emotionally stable white guy who Nancy is obviously meant to be with. And for Amanda, she's also portrayed in line with the stereotype of asian women being very submissive (particularly to their male counterparts). I don't think any of this was intentional, but it's just not a good look.

This problem could've at least been somewhat alleviated if Gil and Amanda had been written as fully fleshed out characters who were going on their own journeys and were consequential to the story, but that didn't happen.

Stereotypes aside, another problematic aspect of the Bobbseys is that they both fall into the unfortunately common trope of being the character of color that the white character has a superficial relationship with and leads white character to realizing that they should actually be with this other white character who's been there all along.

Even when they have roles in the episode apart from being superficial love interests, oftentimes they don't do much aside from being useful for getting the Crew from point A to point B of a mystery.

Underdeveloped relationships

Was I the only one who found the resolution of the Nancy x Gil relationship in the season finale to be a bit abrupt?

While I appreciate that they showed how seemingly small transgressions within relationships can actually be red flags and that a situation doesn't need to escalate to full-on physical abuse in order to count as domestic violence, I found that the moment when Nancy has this realization and then breaks up with Gil lacked the emotional weight befitting that situation. I think this was the case because Nancy and Gil barely had a relationship. There was attraction and sexual tension, they hooked up a few times, but it was never shown to be a real relationship. It's not just that we didn't often see them together, but with or without him, Nancy didn't think much about Gil or what he thought of her and, more importantly wrt the breakup, we aren't shown all the ways that his treatment of her affected her sense of self or the way she operated. Nancy's relationship with Gil was inconsequential, so the stakes were low.

And yes, casual hookup situations can also turn abusive, but from a narrative standpoint, the way this particular situation was portrayed, it was given both more and less weight than it should've been given. It felt like the writers wanted the breakup to be big and impactful but they not only didn't work for that payoff, they also wanted to resolve it quickly so they could move onto more important plot points (the breakup was at the beginning episode and Nancy never mentions it or even hints at any emotional fallout from it ever again).

(Amanda was done dirty)

Actually, if anything, the big dramatic breakup should've been between Amanda and Gil. Even with her severely limited screentime, almost every time we do see Amanda, we are reminded of how close she is with Gil, how badly he treats her, how much she values his opinion, and how smothered she feels by him. And it sucks that we never actually get to see Amanda make the realization, stand up for herself, and confront Gil. All we see is Ace encouraging her to break away and then cut to her living her best life post-sibling breakup.

In the end, it's as if Amanda's pain and suffering was made to be less about her and more about Nancy/being evidence that Gil is not good for Nancy. Again, not a good look.

And Amanda and Ace's relationship is also underdeveloped compared to the impact that the writers seem to want it to have. Like, I don't understand why Ace would give her a pseudo-ultimatum ("I'll prioritize you if you prioritize me") at this stage of their relationship. Yes, they do seem to be more of a relationship than Nancy x Gil, but it always felt like they were very much in the budding romance stage. While he does talk about her when they're apart, we still rarely saw them interact with each other outside of the context of Ace needing to use Amanda's connection at the hotel or to her father or brother in order to help solve the mystery. And we don't learn more about or see a different side either character through their relationship with each other.

Poorly executed, unnecessary love triangles

The whole point of having a love triangle is to raise the emotional stakes.

It's always been my belief that if you're going to have a love triangle, you need to commit to it. That means making both legs of the triangle equally viable, developing both romantic options and both relationships equally.

As noted in the sections above, this was not the case with either love triangle, which makes the whole thing feel cheap and unsatisfying. Like I said in a previous post, I think it would've been more powerful if Nancy had two really great options, but in the end chose Ace because that’s what her heart really wants no matter how great the other guy is.

Anyone with a healthy understanding of love and relationships would choose Ace over Gil. It's no contest, no real choice, so it adds nothing to the conversation, it says nothing about Nancy or her feelings for Ace. It's inconsequential, the emotional stakes are practically nonexistent.

Literally, I feel like if you took the Bobbsey love triangles out of this season, Ace and Nancy would still end up in pretty much the same place wrt their feelings for each other. I mean, yes, the whole jealousy/green eyed epiphany thing did play a role, but the relationships with the Bobbseys featured so little and were so underdeveloped that it would be more or less the same as one of them flirting with a background character every once in a while.

And Nace still didn't end up together after all that! It's hinted that for some reason, Ace will be stringing Amanda along next season while he pines for Nancy. Which is exhausting.

This is really what we sacrificed two perfectly interesting characters of color for. I'm upset.

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 12

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 12

Chapter Summary:  When two hearts are meant for each other, distance isn’t an issue... right?

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption. Angsty. 

Chapters:  {Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11}

Wrapping up filming was a bittersweet event. Mostly bitter to be perfectly honest. While Faye was happy that she had completed her first big contract, she was going to miss the people she had grown close to while working there. She was casual acquaintances with a few people, but the biggest loss was going to be Henry.

You see, now that filming was over and his lease was up at his current rental property, he was moving back to his house in South Kensington. Briar was near hysterical when she found 'her room' at his house packed up. Henry spent most of that day with the little girl either in his arms, or dragging her as she clung to his leg. Not much packing was accomplished on that day.

When it was time for Henry to actually leave for his home, was the worst part of the entire ordeal. Briar had planted herself in the passenger seat and screamed every time someone tried to move her. Faye could almost swear she saw Henry tearing up when he drove away, Briar still screaming in her mother's arms.

He was loyal with his FaceTiming and phone calls, texting her as much as he could throughout the day. Not long after he had gotten home, he had to leave again for another project. This one was only supposed to take four months, but it didn't make it suck any less for Faye. Whenever Henry would FaceTime, she would slap on a happy face, delighted to see his goofy grin as he tried to show her some 'secrets' behind the scenes. Mostly the snack table, and occasionally Kal sleeping at his feet. He was so happy with what he did. Truly, genuinely happy.

While he was away, Faye had taken up a contract with some fashion designer, doing makeup for models before photoshoots and for the runway. She loved what she did, but she found doing beauty makeup was becoming boring and repetitive very quickly. She could barely remember the last time she had applied a prosthetic.

That was the biggest strain on their relationship so far. Yes, the distance was awful, but that was nothing compared to the arguments they had over Faye's job. Henry kept insisting she not renew her contract when it came back around. Faye continuously told him that she didn't have much of an option, she was in England on a work visa. If she didn't work, she couldn't stay in the country. Then Henry would suggest she take another job, and she would tell him that every offer he had was just for beauty makeup. She had had absolutely no offers for special effect makeup, like she wanted, so right back to square one.

After their latest 'disagreement' Henry had told her he was coming to visit. He cited the distance as the reason behind their animosity towards each other. Faye had a feeling it was because they were past the honeymoon phase and starting to notice all the flaws in each other. Like how he lacked detailed planning for anything, and just made general ideas like that would solve everything. Or how she would always get irritated every time he would try to help, insisting she could do everything on her own. He was stubborn and she was obstinate, neither one willing to bend when they thought they knew best.

Faye always made sure to hide her tears until after they had hung up. It wasn't because she didn't want him to see her upset. It was a matter of pride for her. She refused to let him know she shed any tears over him.

Henry would usually round his night out with either a couple shots of whiskey or an intense workout, but he made sure to never raise his voice with her. He wouldn't do that, he wouldn't act aggressively towards her, no matter how frustrated he got. She could interrupt him when he was trying to make a point all she wanted to, he refused to do anything to intimidate her or make her afraid of him.

Briar was blissfully unaware of everything going on. Henry still called her every evening to say goodnight; he had an alarm set on his phone to remind him and everything. She would even sometimes con a bedtime story out of him if he wasn't busy on set. Every time she spoke to him, she asked him when he was coming home, Henry's heart breaking even more each time she asked.

She never asked when he was coming back. She never asked when she would see him again. She always asked the same question, every single day.

"When you come home?"

It was that simple phrasing that tore him apart. She considered him a part of her home. He hadn't known her for a full year yet, but she could still get him to do just about anything she wanted just by poking out her lower lip and batting her eyelashes.

Now, standing at Faye's door for the first time in months, he didn't feel at all like he was coming home. Should he knock? Before he'd left, they had gotten to where they both just walked in to each other's homes. They gave each other spare keys and everything. He still had hers on his keychain, but she had returned hers when his lease expired and he'd just never gotten around to giving her a key to his Kensington home.

Finally he settled for knocking on the door, counting the seconds until he heard the deadbolt slide free and the door swung open.

Faye wasn't sure exactly what kind of greeting she was in for. She expected a cold one, none the less. Maybe a tight smile and a nod; perhaps avoiding looking at her and coming inside, not the giant bear hug she suddenly found herself trapped in.

"I missed you." Henry mumbled into her neck, holding her as tight as he dared, afraid she might vanish if he released her.

"I missed you too." Faye finally whispered, taking a step back to let him in when she was released from his embrace. Henry didn't make it two steps in the house before a tiny human firecracker was launched at him, barreling into him at full speed while screaming excitedly.

"And I missed you too!" Henry told the little girl, snatching her up for a hug.

"I made for you! I go get it!" Briar excitedly announced, squirming down to sprint back to her room.

"She filled out an entire coloring book for you." Faye explained, nodding him to the living room. Nothing had changed, and yet it all felt so different to him. Sitting down on the same couch he'd first kissed Faye on was now so foreign to him. He didn't even have time to speak before Briar was back, leaping into his lap and showing him her well loved coloring book. Looked like adult conversation was going to have to wait until after bedtime, which ended up taking much longer than it should have.

Faye had thankfully managed to get Briar dressed after her bath before she went running at top speed to her room, grabbing the biggest storybook she could find and dragging it out to Henry.

"This one!"

"That one?" Henry gasped, pretending to have trouble lifting the book. "Ugh, but it's so big!"

"That one, that one!" Briar insisted, grabbing his little finger and dragging him back to her room where she demanded he read no less than four of them before she ended up falling asleep in the middle of Rapunzel, giving Henry the chance to slip out unnoticed to go in search of the little girl's mother.

He found Faye sitting cross legged on her bed, working on something in her sketchbook. He cleared his throat to not startle her too much with his presence, the woman giving a small sigh before closing her book and setting it down. Now, one problem remained. How to start this conversation. Ultimately Henry just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"So, what are you going to wear to the season two premiere?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. There he went being a dork again.

"Uhh... probably my black cocktail dress. Hopefully I still fit in it. It was from before I had Briar." Faye responded after a pregnant pause.

"Seems a little simple, doesn't it?" Henry asked with a cock of his head.

"Well, I'm not part of the main cast. I get to go to the premiere because I was a member of the crew, but no one gives a shit about the crew. As long as I don't show up in a pair of sweats, no one is really going to care. We're not the ones getting our pictures taken, after all."

"You're not... going with me?" Henry asked, his brow furrowing as the corner of his lips tugged down.

"Henry I... no." Faye sighed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Best to just get it out of the way and see where they stood once the dust settled. "You really don't understand, do you? I'm not the kind of girl you take out on dates where you might get photographed. I'm not the girl you introduce to your friends. I'm not the girl you want on your arm at some big event. I'm not the girl you take home to meet your family. I'm a fuck up and a loser. I'm a nobody." Faye paused, taking a slow breath, forcing herself to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer.

"Henry, guys like you just don't fall for girls like me."

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

[nctzendreamz]

off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

[melodiesofblueroses]

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

→ 𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

(In honor of that ur+ card that won’t be coming home)

♡ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Mammon loses a bet with (MC) and is forced to dress up as a bunny butler for a day

♡ 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Fluff

♡ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.0k

♡ 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: f!reader

It all started with what was supposed to be a small, harmless bet. And that’s exactly what it was, but to Mammon, it was just another tactic for his brothers to exploit him. I mean, come on, a bet to not steal something for a single day? Ha, what a sick joke. He is the Avatar of Greed, that bet was practically impossible for him to win. When there’s an opportunity to make money, his body acts before his brain could process what was going on (his brothers would often argue that he couldn’t think at all). There would be this indescribable desire when he thought up of some money-making scheme, a burning sensation that would physically hurt to resist, a feeling of greed. It was almost as if Mammon’s body was manufactured to respond and act correspondingly whenever he felt the slightest desire to want something, one of the many reasons he couldn’t stop stealing. He just needed to get his grubby hands on some cash.

“Do I really gotta do this?” There was a slight annoyance to his voice, but it was very clear that Mammon was more embarrassed than anything. The way he averted his eyes, the slight pink that colored his cheeks, and the small shuffle he did was more than enough blackmail material. Ugh, and his brothers were all teasing and recording this moment. He was the second eldest dammit! Where was the respect?

“Come on, you lost the bet,” Asmodeus sang, finishing up the touches on Mammon’s outfit. “You’re such an idiot. You made the bet with (MC) knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist.” Mammon scoffed and crossed his arms. The only reason he agreed to the bet in the first place-besides the fact that (MC) suggested it-was because the reward was tempting. If he had won, Mammon would’ve been treated to a special kiss from (MC) plus a few hundred Grimm that (MC) had laying around her room somewhere, but the latter was of lesser value. How could he say no when he would receive a kiss from his human?

“I never thought I’d see the day,” he heard Lucifer mutter quietly to himself, seeming to enjoy this occasion a bit too much. That sadist. 

“Aw, don’t be shy Mammon,” (MC) chimed, a sweet smile gracing her features. “You look great in that suit. No wonder you’re a top model!” Although she sounded so sweet and kind, there was a slight mischievous undertone. Ah, so she was enjoying this just as much as his brothers. “You’re pulling off the bunny butler just perfectly.” (MC) then proceeded to stroke the little fluffy tail that came with the outfit, an action that just made Mammon blush harder. His not-so-secret crush was so close to him, how could he keep his cool? 

“Ha, your face is so red,” Leviathan commented, quickly snapping a photo followed by a small ‘ding’ from everyone’s phones. Great, he had just sent that photo to everyone. Mammon was sure to become the laughingstock for the next few centuries. 

“I’m slightly amused that you chose for him to dress up in such a provocative manner,” Satan grinned, hand on his chin as he seemed to analyze Mammon. “It’s rather fitting for him, actually.” 

“Yep, I thought it’d be fun. A nice change of pace, ya know?” (MC) giggled after her response and proceeded to fix the lopsided bunny ears. Mammon’s heart broke ever so slightly, a bit sad at the fact that (MC) seemed to be teaming up with her brothers in tormenting Mammon. She could’ve chosen any other punishment, but nope, (MC) just had to choose Mammon dressing up as a bunny butler. 

“How long do I haveta keep this on?” There was an imminent scowl on his face as Mammon played with the silver rings on his ring and middle finger. This was so embarrassing. 

“Hm, how about the whole day? You gotta be my butler after all.” The cheeky grin that followed made Mammon a bit irritated, and he had a sudden urge to slap her, not that he would ever dare to lay a hand on (MC). It was all metaphorical talk. 

“You already have a pact with me. What’s the point?”

“It’s kinda amusing seeing you dress up.” There was no malice in her voice, but the words stung a bit nonetheless. Here Mammon was thinking that (MC) was different from the rest of his brothers, but nope. She loved to tease him just as much as the next guy. At least her teasing was a lot more toned down compared to others he was used to. 

Alas, the preparations were soon finished, and Mammon was sporting a rather seductive, if you will, look. The bunny ears and tail added a bit of cuteness to his outfit, but the form-fitting white shirt and yellow-accented black vest along with black pants and small black bow from behind his neck upped his sex appeal. He looked like one of those handsome casino workers that everyone couldn’t help but stare at. The attention may have been a bit much, but of course, Mammon didn’t mind it at all. The attention satisfied his greedy nature a bit, so perhaps losing the bet wasn’t all that bad. 

Soon enough, everyone went their separate ways, all except for Mammon who was stuck following (MC). She was, shockingly, pretty lenient and didn’t order him around too much, besides the occasional run to the kitchen to go fetch a drink, which she ordered to be served on a silver platter to add a bit to the roleplay. 

“Ah, it’s nice to have my own personal butler for a bit,” (MC) sighed, sounding a bit too content. She was currently sprawled out on her bed, watching some video from Deviltube while Mammon stood near the dusty table that lay in the back. Her room was basically used for storage before (MC) was considered for the exchange program, so there were tiny knick-knacks and the like lying around. (MC) seemed to be enjoying herself, which pleased Mammon. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, even if it came at the cost of his dignity. 

As much as Mammon loved (MC), he couldn’t deny that he didn’t feel all too comfortable in his current outfit. Sure, he was a model, but none of the other demons ever caught his attention, so it wasn’t as if he was embarrassed to dress rather alluringly. (MC), on the other hand, well, she was special, and Mammon grew so shy around her. He wasn’t the type to be straightforward with his feelings and show off when he found someone he liked, so his current predicament was not in his favor. But this was (MC), so he would have to suck it up and deal with it. He should be used to it by now. 

(MC) caught on to his rather tense figure and motioned for him to come and sit beside her on the bed, sitting up and making room for him. When he came over, she immediately snuggled into him and wrapped the two of them with the blanket that lay on her bed, as if the two were already an established couple. This action made Mammon blush and tense up even more. Being so close to his crush was obviously a dream come true, but hell, Mammon basically blanked out whenever he and (MC) shared a touch. It was as if his body shut down at that moment, processing nothing but the percieved contact. He wasn’t headstrong, as much as he kept up that act. (MC) noticed how he couldn’t relax and frowned a bit, straightening up in order to face Mammon. 

“You know, if you feel uncomfortable I can just call off the bet.” Now, Mammon was a bit shocked to hear this. I mean, just a few moments ago he was pondering on whether or not (MC) had teamed up with his brothers in an attempt to further humiliate him, yet here he was, being proven wrong yet again. How was (MC) not an angel at this point? She sure had the heart of one. 

“N-No, it’s fine.” His words came out a bit jumbled, and Mammon averted his eyes so as to avoid (MC). Oh how she was just so adorable. “You won fair an’ square, and besides, the Great Mammon doesn’t need any pity ya know.” As hard as he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care, it was so clear that Mammon would love to get out of this fit. I mean, unless (MC) begged for him to stay in it and perhaps confessed her undying love, but who knows. The fact of the matter is that Mammon wasn’t confident, a bit shocking coming from such a high-end model. It wasn’t as if he had a problem with the outfit itself, more so that he wasn’t sure if (MC) found joy in seeing him flustered. It all boiled down to (MC)’s feelings about him. 

“It’s just that, I love you, and I’d never want to make you do something that you’re not comfortable doing.” Immediately upon hearing this sentence, the both of them froze. While (MC) was freaking out over the fact that she just mindlessly confessed to Mammon, the flustered demon was trying to process the fact that she just reciprocated his feelings. Was this a part of the bet? He wasn’t aware of this bit of the deal then. Either way, it felt good to hear that coming from her. If this was some cruel prank, would he be able to freeze time and live in this moment? All he wanted was to feel loved for a few mere seconds. 

“Do you, ya know,” he rubbed the back of his neck while trying to find a way to say what he wanted to say without sounding too awkward. “Do ya mean it?” (MC) seemed to pause for a few seconds, the faintest of blush coloring her cheeks. She nodded though, smiling a bit which immediately made Mammon’s heart beat faster. There it was, the answer he had been waiting for all this time. 

Whether it was in the heat of the moment or not, Mammon’s body acted before he could even think, and before long, he had connected his lips with (MC)’s in a rather heated kiss. He wasn’t even thinking in the moment of what he had just done, just pleased with the fact that he could finally kiss (MC) after all this time. She had felt the same way as him, and nothing would make him happier. He was always greedy for her affection, her touch, and at long last, Mammon could finally fulfill those desires. 

“You’re so desperate,” she teased once they pulled away, looking away as to hide the prominent blush that had festered. There was a slight smirk however, as if she had just gotten the brightest of ideas. Mammon raised a brow at this, excited to say the least for what devious plan she had in mind this time. “Hm, is that all this bunny can do?” Ah, she was using the bet to her advantage, not that Mammon minded in the least bit. Oh no, he in fact quite enjoyed that devious tone and those lust-filled eyes. Now, he was no avatar of lust, but Mammon was still a demon, one of the princes of hell mind you. He often got worked up at times too. 

A smirk played on his lips. Oh ho ho, Mammon was just getting started. Gone were the days of his shy lovestruck self. Whether it was the passion and intensity of the atmosphere or not, Mammon grew more confident with each passing second, abandoning that shy side of his for this moment. Before long, he connected their lips once again, the two of them falling onto the bed. He had imagined this exact moment countless times, growing a bit more restless each time Mammon was trapped in his daydream. But now, he was able to make this dream a reality. He was going to savor every moment. This was one bet he was rather proud of losing.

[archosaur-automaton]

Astro-Second Helpings, Episode 2: The Hound of the Baskerbots

Hello, and welcome to another episode of Astro-Second Helpings! Today we'll be reviewing the second Transformers toy (Transmetal Optimal Optimus notwithstanding, z"l) ever acquired by yours truly! Today's boy is WFC-S9 Hound, from the War For Cybertron: Siege subline.

Hound, in the G1 continuity, is modeled after a Mitsubishi J59 Jeep, and serves as the Autobots' scout. He's seen very early on in the 1984 cartoon, being part of the original scouting mission sent by Optimus to investigate and eventually discover the presence of the Decepticons. When he isn't playing football, doggedly pursuing enemies, or using his hologram projection capabilities to create illusions to trick the Decepticons, he's enjoying the natural wonders of Earth and, as his original tech spec states, wishing that he were human. Buddy, you're barking up exactly the right tree -- your old pal archosaur-automaton sure as hell knows what dysphoria is like.

(Seriously. He plays football.)

Hound was obtained soon after Six-Gun at another expedition to Target. His blocky form and subtle-but-poignant dark green coloration were an immediate eye-catcher and thus he was acquired.

As always, we'll be using six categories (Coloration, Overall Design, Quality of Manufacture, Loadout, Transformations, Transformability) with a five-star rating system to judge this boy, even if he really ain't nothin' but a hound dog.

COLORATION

Here's a shot of Hound on our desk in robot mode.

He does have some of the characteristic Siege 'battle damage' effect on his legs, but unlike Six-Gun, it doesn't feel at all out of place or confusing, mostly because it blends so well and isn't obtrusive.

As you can see, he's a very dark green with some attractive accents of yellow/orange, white, light grey, and black, a good earth-tones palette. This is relatively true to his cartoon appearance, though his green was slightly lighter there. The white stars on his shoulders are striking, and provide a nice contrast to the overall darker coloration. The brighter yellow/orange accents are an effective way of adding a splash of brightness to him, and they don't feel at all overdone.

Hound is fairly uncomplicated in terms of coloration because honestly, he doesn't have any need for a complex paint job or go off-leash with anything fancy. He's a boy who knows where his towel is, at least hue-wise.

Coloration Score: 5/5. It's exactly what it's supposed to be.

OVERALL DESIGN

Hound is, how shall we say, blocky. Chonky, even. There's not a lot that's sleek about him -- he's mostly an unapologetic series squares and rectangular prisms. And you know what? That's honestly pretty great. He might not have HUGE shoulderonhonkero pauldrons, but he more than makes up for it in the gams department.

Seriously, look at those things. It's like two air conditioner units with feet on 'em. I love big-calved robots and Hound manages to play a mean game of fetch in that department, eagerly delivering something we feel confident calling sexy.

As per the above, he's got a pretty humanoid face, and we're usually ambivalent about humanoid faces on Transformers, but Hound is such a good fellow with those puppy-dog eyes and that sweet punim that you can't help but love.

One big bugbear we have about Hound's design could technically fall under loadout, but it's a big enough part of his appearance that it feels entirely relevant. As you can see from the shot of Hound on our desk, compared with the shot from the cartoon, you'll notice one striking difference. He doesn't have his big rocket/missile launcher! Sure, he's got a shoulder-mounted gun, but it doesn't look anything like that iconic G1 missile. That's a big disappointment -- even if it wasn't part of the base mold they could have at LEAST included another weapon that resembled that good good look we all know and love.

Overall Design Score: 4/5. Toss this boy a bone and give him the missile launcher!!!

QUALITY OF MANUFACTURE

There's not really much to tell here. His joints aren't too tight, aren't too loose. The little black piece on his back that serves as the frame for the jeep doors is a little flimsy, but it's nothing major. Everything that's supposed to snap together does so without a hassle and we never felt worried that anything would come unaligned during play. Additionally, he is not a "partsformer" which really helps with making things feel nice. There is one thing that stands out about him, which is questionably in the middle between "overall design" and "quality of manufacture", but we'll put here because why not.

To facilitate his vehicle transformation, Hound's shoulders have extra articulation that allow him to pull his arms way back in a realistic fashion. This is always a cool thing and makes him really fun to play with. You can almost imagine him delivering a nice wind-up punch right to the nose of some rabid Decepticon.

Quality of Manufacture Score: 5/5

LOADOUT

His guns are okay. The long gun has a neat little barrel which looks nicer than the mostly-flat guns most Transformers get, and none of it feels too big or unwieldy. However, he does not have his rocket launcher. When we think about that, our tail stops waggin'. Give rocket launcher. Gib rocket launcher please and thank.

Loadout: 3.5/5

TRANSFORMATIONS Hound transforms into, as previously mentioned, a Jeep.

The Jeep is a classic sort of car design and it's really hard to screw it up. For the most part, his vehicle mode is pretty great, especially once you add the guns and you get a capable, armed little scout vehicle to play with. However, there's one thing that's pretty obnoxious about his transformation:

His arms, tucked on the underside of the Jeep, are SO close to the ground that they can and in fact do impede his vehicular movement. Additionally, his wheels aren't the best on smooth surfaces which is sort of disappointing, and combined with the arms problem his usefulness as a vehicle is pretty limited. He's nice to look at, though, which acts as a moderate offset.

Transformations Score: 3.5/5. Hound should keep his armies in his sleevies, or at the very least somewhere more convenient.

TRANSFORMABILITY

It was a little hard to reason about how to transform him at first, due mostly to confusing and hard to read diagrams in the transformation booklet when it came to getting his wheels aligned. Additionally, the black jeep doorframe part on his back can bump up against and get caught on his legs, making it tricky to get everything hunky-dory.

In the end, though, once you get his transformation down the first time, it's a piece of cake -- he really wants to help you get him into his vehicle mode. Transformers fan's best friend, one supposes.

Transformability Score: 4/5

To sum up, while there are a few hairy decisions about Hound's design and manufacture, he's an overall well-made guy who gives you plenty to chew on, both visually and during actual play. We love this guy and are so happy to have him as a plastic companion to provide endless fun.

When you add it all up, Hound's aggregate score is 25/6, which when rounded down equals 4, and we're more than happy to let sleeping dogs lie.

OVERALL RATING: 4/5

[lunamanar]

Coming Home

I had a dream I want to write down before it fades. I was some sort of journalist, sent to cover this old school I used to go to, and the fact it was being renovated and revamped. It was a nostalgic assignment, I thought. When I got there, though, it was more familiar than I suspected. The hallways were long and arching, the ceiling was very high. Even though it was decorated differently, it didn't take long for me to recognize it as Balamb Garden. It kind of blew me away both because it was an FFVIII thing that really existed, and because now I realized that I'd been there, myself. 

The more I walked around in it and took pictures on my phone (I actually checked when I woke up to see if they were there...of course, they weren't), things started seeming more familiar all the time. I had memories of the hallways and classrooms. It made sense, why I'd always liked just walking around malls; they're kinda similar in a way (this is a true thing that I like doing). It was still in operation, sort of, but it was also kind of a theme park? Or at least, it was something you had to get admission to, and most people weren't allowed to go to certain areas. But I had some idea of where paths led, so I was able to get through one of the restricted areas by lying to the guard about having forgotten something in a room, then jumping a barrier and following a path down the side of the Quad, into this odd little cluster of buildings. Almost a village or town square, with big trees and a waterfall. Again, it looked a bit like an abandoned theme park, a lot of things were kind of overgrown and crumbling away, but I could recognize all the colors and design as belonging to Balamb. It struck me that this wasn't an entertainment part, this was a bunch of sets they had built based on the concept art for the game. Maybe to help CG model it, but clearly not all of it actually made its way in. So it was stuck here (and at the same time, because this was a dream and it didn't have to make sense) undocumented, while the school itself was still in operation. Because this was both the real world AND the game world I was in. I climbed up into a sort of tree fort I'd remembered being in as a kid. I was getting my memories back slowly. I was rebuilding this world around me, in my head. The fact I'd forgotten didn't seem weird. Of course I'd forgotten; most people did. There were kids there, students, and they thought it was both weird and fun that an adult had climbed up in the tree fort with them. I didn't say a whole lot, but I let them use me as a shield against their friends for bit. Then I climbed down and took notes and pictures of the buildings, thinking about what purpose they might serve in the game, if they'd made it in. Then I started following the path around the side of the Garden, and the stream that came off the waterfall. It looked like they had old statues of nondescript people crouching and standing in various places in the foliage, like this was going to be a scene in the game somewhere, but had been cut. I tried to figure out what that scene would have been, but there wasn't much context as the statues/models were very nondescript. The only thing I could think of was that this was an alternate location for the SeeD exam, and the models were all the random people who were standing around but you were't allowed to talk to. So I didn't. I followed the path down into this long building in the middle of the woods, kind of rectangular compared to all the others, but still with those rounded sides a lot of the Balamb buildings have. All the neo-tribal designs were half covered up by overgrowth. I think it was summer, so everything was VERY green. I went into the building because it looked like there was a lot of foot traffic there in the gravel, and found it was open. It was a classroom building, one long hallway with classrooms on either side. It was dark, so I guess it was after hours. I was curious so I started poking around. I went into what looked like a shop/art room. I looked at all the carvings, machines and furniture kids had made, and remembered putting one together myself. I was okay at it. Not the best, not terrible. My creations were long gone, but there was a cool glider Zell had made that was still hanging from the ceiling as an example of what you could do if you put your mind to it (and had some talent). I took pictures, made notes. I heard someone coming, and I got nervous for some reason. The voice was familiar, I thought I new her, and didn't think she'd be happy to see me. I was Squall, after all (at least for this part of the dream, I was). I just walked out of the room, keeping very calm. The control I felt was instant and very exact. It was the reaction I had when I probably was supposed to be panicking. Anyway, I think she only saw my back. She called after me, but I waved her off. She didn't chase me down. So, I left that building, and went on to the next thing down the path. It was close to the dorms, but not too close: this food court sort of thing with a faux-Chinese-styled restaurant with goofy pagoda-looking things on either corner. It looked completely out of place, so I understood why it wasn't included in the game. But I walked inside, and again it was familiar. Cheesy themed food court and shops, and the guy working the sushi bar was the same person who'd been there when I was a kid. He was supposed to be Kadowaki's husband. I guess he was irrelevant. I felt the dream starting to fade, so I went up to him and talked to him. Ordered what I "always" had--maki and kurodai. I was the only person who ever ordered that, for some reason, and he recognized me right away. Now that I was older, he insisted I try his cocktails, too. I realized this was where the dream was supposed to end, because I'd drink those and get woozy which would cause the world around me to dissolve. I didn't really want to, but it was going to happen anyway and this would be faster and easier. I'm not sure if that's because being a little buzzed was supposed to make me lose my mental grip keeping the world together, or because I thought the drinks were poisoned and Mr. Kadowaki was trying to assassinate me (it should be noted that this is a very Squall sort of thing to wonder). But for some reason, probably because I knew I couldn't stop it, I tried these little mixed shots anyway. They were good, but the dream really did just kind of evaporate from there and I woke up (very not drunk, thankfully). I think the kicker to the whole thing, that hilariously didn't occur to me when I was in the dream, was that I was a journalist.

[buddaimond]

Excerpts regarding “High Life”, highlighted parts about Rob, meeting with André Benjamin (another cast of High Life), opps a little spoiler of High Life, BTS of shooting High Life in Cologne, quotes from the producer Andrew Lauren, words from Olivier Assayas about Claire Denis, and words from Des Hamilton :

“High Life,” which cost millions more to make than any of Denis’s previous films, seems, on its surface, dramatically divergent from the rest of her body of work, yet versions of its premise swirled inside Denis’s mind for more than a decade. For years, she had wanted to tell the story of the last person in the world. In the film, the galactic convicts perish one by one. Only a single felon survives, along with his daughter, who was born on the spaceship. (Olafur Eliasson, the Danish-Icelandic conceptual artist who a decade ago erected waterfalls in the East River, designed the spaceship for the movie.) Their relationship—literally forged in a vacuum, with a whiff of the taboo—was her primary interest in the story. “It’s feminine and masculine,” Denis said. “It’s family blood but it’s not the same sex.”

The script, which Denis wrote with her longtime screenwriter, Jean-Pol Fargeau, took years to complete. (Zadie Smith and Nick Laird worked on a draft that Denis ultimately rejected.) Though Denis treats scripts as provisional and merely suggestive documents, hers are full of vivid sensory detail. When “High Life” ’s main character, played by Robert Pattinson, is introduced, he is “pressed against the exterior of the spaceship, like a mountain climber against a sheer cliff face.” Later, when he changes out of his spacesuit, he does so “like a knight removing armor.”

Denis saw Pattinson in “Twilight,” she said, and was struck by his “heartrending charisma.” She had wanted someone older for “High Life”—she thought at one point of Philip Seymour Hoffman—but after meeting with Pattinson in Los Angeles and Paris she realized that “he was already in the film.” She went on, “When he said to me, ‘Are you sure?’ I said, ‘It’s already too late. It’s you or nobody else.’ ” She chose “High Life” ’s other stars, including Juliette Binoche and the English model and actress Mia Goth, with similarly instinctual possessiveness. In the summer of 2015, Denis and her producer, Oliver Dungey, flew to Atlanta to meet André Benjamin, the rapper, actor, producer, adroit hat-wearer, and all-around cultural icon, better known by his stage name, André 3000, and for his flamboyant role in the Atlanta hip-hop duo OutKast. Denis had enjoyed Benjamin’s lead performance in “All Is by My Side,” a 2014 biopic of Jimi Hendrix, and she had got it in her mind that he should play a part in “High Life.”

The three had agreed to meet at the St. Regis Hotel’s restaurant for lunch. “Here we are,” Dungey recalled, “me—this sort of posh, square English guy—and Claire—this scorny French lady—and in walks André.” Benjamin said, “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but everyone is telling me I have to meet with you and I’ve got to do this film.”

“They immediately hit it off,” Dungey said. “I’m just sitting there, picking at grits. The purpose of the trip was accomplished within thirty seconds.”

The only other people in the restaurant were two Gambian ladies visiting from, of all places, the Cotswolds. “Why were they there?” Dungey said. “I don’t know. But, then again, why were we there?

“Claire and André were talking about eating snake,” he continued. He shrugged in a manner that suggested his exclusion from the conversation had been so profound as to be painless. “Claire was saying how it gives you this vitality, this life force. And one of these women from Gambia turns around and says, ‘She’s right!’ ”

Moments later, a statuesque woman arrived. “She waltzes in and apparently knows André,” Dungey said. “She hugs him, asks how he’s been, blah, blah, blah. This woman looks fantastic: she has ribbons in her hair, lots of beads, she’s colorfully dressed. André introduces her to us as Dana.” Here Dungey paused, smiled, and shook his head. “This is not Dana. This is Queen Latifah.

“Claire is obviously taken with this woman while having no idea who she is. She just kept telling her she looked like a queen,” he continued. (Denis insists that she was well aware of Dana’s identity.) “The ladies from Gambia know who she is, though, and they also know who André is, and they ask for a photo. Queen Latifah ended up paying for all our lunches without saying anything.”

Dungey added, “It was really one of the most charming and weird moments of my entire life.”

........

Similarly, in “High Life,” some of the convicts are black, but they are not a message-telegraphing majority. When the film’s American producers read the script, they urged Denis to change the fact that the first character to die was a black man. In the U.S. today, they told her, this was just not done. For Americans, Denis said, the problem of racism “is buried so deep. For me, it was not deep.” She refused to change the plot, writing in more dialogue instead. In the final version, André Benjamin’s character says, “See? Even in outer space, the black ones are the first to die.”

.......

With “High Life,” Denis will inevitably receive more international attention than she ever has, but for years many filmmakers have spoken of her as a sort of secret saint

........

“It’s such a macho, minimalist film,” said Andrew Lauren, one of the producers of “High Life” and its financier, who saw “Beau Travail” years ago, on the recommendation of his father, the designer Ralph Lauren. “When this new project came to us, and I went back through Denis’s filmography, I was, like, ‘Wait, she did “Beau Travail”?’ I would have sworn that a man made it. She’s like the precursor to Kathryn Bigelow.”

........

Unlike Denis’s past movies, which were shot on location, mostly in France and Africa, “High Life” was largely filmed at a studio in Cologne, during two months last fall. The cast and Denis stayed at a hotel thirty minutes away. The drive, made each morning and night—often with a P.A. behind the wheel who was described to me as “the worst driver in the history of mankind”—took them past oil refineries, sausage factories, and tractor-trailer bordellos that were parked, with German efficiency, along the highway exits.

By all reports, it was a trying experience. Denis was unused to filming in a studio. She made scene changes constantly and with little warning, sometimes by text message. Benjamin described an atmosphere of inadvertent method acting. “These convicts are all supposed to be from different places—they don’t know one another at first, and they’re just trying to make it,” he said. “And, on set, it was the same! I’m this guy from Atlanta, Claire’s French, obviously, most of the guys on set are German, the actors didn’t know each other. It was a trip.” Robert Pattinson, who, several people said, spent much of his time on set asking existential questions—Wait, who am I in this movie? What are we making here?—told me, “It’s a very abstract way of working. It feels like experimental theatre, frankly.”

Lauren said, “A lot of people were thinking, This is good for my résumé, but I wish I weren’t here.” He continued, “I think, if you make a movie with Claire, you can make any movie.” He compared the process to over-preparing for the SATs, or training at high altitudes, so that your performance at sea level feels easier on game day. At an early color-test screening, held at an ornate theatre in Cologne, Denis’s voice was the only one in the room, saying, “Merde! Crap! What are we doing? Why am I here?” Lauren said he thought “everyone sort of took it personally.”

At the end of each day, the cast and crew convened at the hotel bar. “Everyone would sort of be sitting at different parts of the bar, and she’d walk in and it was, like, Shit! Claire’s here!” Lauren recalled. “I saw a lot of people wanting to leave many, many times, but they stayed. They stay because they love her—even though they can’t stand her.”

Denis does not deny such behavior. “I can be the worst person, the meanest person on a set,” she said. “Shouting, screaming, complaining. I don’t have a lot of respect for myself as a director. People accept me the way I am, because they know I’m not faking. Probably.”

When I described these accounts to the filmmaker Olivier Assayas, a close friend of Denis’s, he laughed. “There’s a certain form of chaos in the way she works,” he said. “When you make movies, it’s always disturbing how confident everyone involved is that they know how things should be done. And you have to constantly remind them, No, you don’t know how it’s done, I don’t know how it’s done, nobody knows how it’s done. You create chaos as a way of destabilizing the surroundings that could bring you to make something that would otherwise be conventional.”

.....

Hamilton (casting director)recalled witnessing the initial meeting between Denis and Pattinson, in Los Angeles, and feeling like “these are two people on a date, and I really shouldn’t be here, maybe I should actually remove myself?” With obvious pride, Denis recounted how Pattinson took the train from London to visit her in Paris. “He came to me like a friend,” she told me. “You know, in London, Robert has to hide because of girls?” (A representative for Pattinson said, “He doesn’t hide from anyone.”)

Full Article

[alphadoo]

What are polarized sunglasses and how to choose them?

With summer coming, sunglasses are a must for everyone who likes the outdoors. When buying new sunglasses, people commonly ask the same question: Do I really need polarized lenses?

This article will try to tell you as much as possible about your concerns about sunglasses.

Content:

Features of polarized sunglasses

Polarized VS non-polarized sunglasses

How to Tell if Sunglasses Are Polarized

Best Polarized Sunglasses – Reviews

Features of polarized sunglasses

Built specially to block intense light to an impressive standard, Polarized sunglasses block glare from light reflecting off flat surfaces better than any other type of sunglass lenses, polarized sunglasses are commonly used by people who work in particularly sunny or bright environments.

Anyone who struggles with bright light outdoors can benefit from these premium sunglasses. Virtually all experienced fishermen and hikers have at least one pair of polarized sunglasses, and it's understandable.

To put it bluntly, these sunglasses reduce glare without impeding your vision too much, which explains why they’re so popular, to begin with. Depending on your budget, these glasses can be anything from slightly tinted to full-on blackened, yet perfectly or at least reasonably see-through.

There aren’t that many differences between brands for most people, but we assure you that the difference is far from negligible for anyone who is used to wearing high-end models.

Polarized VS non-polarized sunglasses

Polarized sunglasses

Polarized sunglasses provide advantages when it comes to decreasing eye strain and discomfort in bright sunlight. They offer those who enjoy an outdoor lifestyle or who spend time around bodies of water to enjoy a glare-free form of eye protection.

People who spend time driving, either for work or leisure, will see improved comfort and visibility by using polarized lenses. That, in turn, helps them to drive more safely and confidently.

However, it is important to keep in mind that boaters and pilots may experience problems when viewing liquid crystal displays (LCD) displays on instrument panels, which can be a crucial issue when it comes to making split-second decisions based strictly on the information displayed on a screen.

Non-polarized sunglasses

Though polarized sunglasses lenses improve comfort and visibility, you may encounter some instances when polarized lenses aren't advisable. One example is downhill skiing, wherein you actually want to see the bright patches of reflected light because they alert you to icy conditions.

As mentioned above, polarized lenses reduce the visibility of images produced by LCDs found on some digital screens, such as bank automatic teller machines (ATMs) and gas station pumps. With polarized lenses, you may also find it more difficult to see the screen on your phone (depending on the type of screen technology used).

Despite these exceptions, polarized sunglasses offer tremendous advantages when it comes to decreasing eye strain and discomfort in bright sunlight.

How to Tell if Sunglasses Are Polarized

Testing on a Reflective Surface

Find a reflective surface that produces glare when light is shining on it. You could use a reflective tabletop, a mirror, or other shiny, flat surface. Make sure the glare is noticeable even from about 2 to 3 feet (60 to 90 cm) away. If you need to produce glare, you can turn on overhead lights or shine a flashlight on a reflective surface.

Hold your sunglasses about 6 to 8 inches (15 to 20 cm) in front of your eyes. You should be able to view the surface through one of the lenses at a time. Depending on the size of the lenses in your sunglasses, you might need to move them a little closer to your face.

Rotate the sunglasses upwards to a 60-degree angle. Your sunglasses should be on an angle at this point, with one of the lenses raised slightly higher than the other. Since sunglasses are polarized in a specific direction, rotating the sunglasses can make the polarization more effective. Depending on how the glare is hitting the surface, you might have to slightly adjust the angle of the glasses to see a noticeable difference.

Look through the lens and check the level of glare. If the sunglasses are polarized, you will notice the glare disappears. When you look through one of the lenses, it should be very dark and you should see little to no glare, but it will still look like the light is shining on the surface.

Move the sunglasses to compare your regular eyesight to what you see through the sunglasses a few times if you’re unsure of the effectiveness of the polarization.

Seeing how the market has quite a lot to offer when it comes to polarized sunglasses, you might find it a bit difficult to find a pair that would not only meet your expectations but one that will also agree with your budget. We say this because, for the most part, polarized sunglasses are far from cheap. This is also one of the reasons why we decided to take a look at everything being sold right now to figure out which are the three best-polarized sunglasses money can buy.

Best Polarized Sunglasses – Reviews

Alphadoo Men’s Polarized Driving Sunglasses

Light in weight, ultra-durable, and guaranteed to last you for a very long time, the Alphadoo Photochromic Polarized Sunglasses stand out for being made with a premium grade metal-alloy frame and high quality mirrored polarized lenses that help keep the eyes protected from harmful UV rays throughout the day. Extremely stylish and modern, these sunglasses are ideal for driving, hiking, running or biking, but can also be worn with casual wear. Unlike many other polarized sunglasses, they also come with a lifetime warranty from the manufacturer, which speaks volumes about the build quality you can expect.

Alphadoo Men’s Sports Style Polarized Sunglasses

9 layer filtration enhanced version of military-grade polarized sunglasses, the Alphadoo Men’s Sports Style Polarized Sunglasses helps to prevent harmful UVA and UVB rays from damaging your eyes. Anti-glare, virtually unbreakable, and resistant to scratches, these sunglasses feature a heavy-duty aluminum frame to ensure that they will withstand a fair amount of abuse before showing signs of damage. Ideally worn during cycling, riding, climbing, trekking, running and all other outdoor activities, these glasses come with a lifetime warranty on both the lenses and the frame.

Alphadoo Outdoor Square Polarized Sunglasses

The Outdoor Square Polarized Sunglasses are heavy-duty plastic protective eyewear that is designed with 100% polarized lenses. These lenses help to reflect glare and reduce eye fatigue. Designed with special UV light protection, it helps to block out the harmful UV rays of the sun. Available in an array of vibrant colors and stylish designs, these sunglasses come with a lifetime warranty and a special hard carry case for good measure.

Polarized Sunglasses Giveaway

2 LUCKY WINNERS will win one of the polarized sunglasses. Let safety always be with you. (As in the picture) ---Polarized light color sunglasses A506 A men's photochromic UV400 anti-glare goggles that will take you ahead of fashion trends and enhance your personal style. How to win? 1.You must subscribe to our account✨ @Alphadoo 2.thumb up and save this post and like our latest posts 3.Invite a friend to thumb up and comment (1 friend = 1 comment = 1 chance to win, so the more comments you post, the more chance you have to win) 4. To double your chances of winning, please share this post in your Instagram Story! 5. Tell us in the comments why did you win this gift

OR PARTICIPATE IN OUR GIVEAWAY THROUGH GLEAM

Alphadoo Sunglasses Giveaway

I will select 2 winners at random on 7th June 2021 and announce them here and on Instagram (Be sure to check my Instagram stories and this blog post for the winner announcement).

The winner must respond to the email within 24 hours. Otherwise, another winner will be selected in their place.

The giveaway prize will be shipped directly by the WEINEZ to the winner. Note: all entries are subject to verification. Good Luck!

[speeps-highway]

Something I noticed about the way Sonic is portrayed nowadays is that he is pretty much All Might. Colors and Gens didn't have the plot to fully show it and Lost World put all the blame for his actions. Forces however, he keeps the same careless attitude from Unleashed to Gens, everyone looks up for him as their savior and role model and even when he makes bad jokes against the villains he still ends up recking them like trash. He went from Goku/Luffy type of shonen hero to literally All Might.

I barely watch Anime so I have hardly any idea what you’re comparing him too, but let me make it clear:

Sonic’s portrayal in games suffers in localization a lot.

Adventure -> Shadow Portrayal

From SA1-06 there was a pretty general issue in the main series with unsatisfactory translations - SHtH messes up a lot of lines, and SA2 is almost completely broken at times (Teria, KAFOW, saying a broken version of the Japanese word for “Damn” when getting grabbed by a ghost)

On top of that I’m not sure what exactly went on and if it’s on purpose or not, but there was some kind of this obsession with giving the character cheesy one-liners, like in the 90s cartoons. Lines like this include “Something Buggin’ you”, “Come and get some Eggman” and “Crack that Eggman wide open”.

Sure, you can argue “Western sonic is different” but look at how that’s turned out in the past, not including giving Classic Sonic a mohawk. I’m sure even those people can notice how much lines like “Something Buggin’ You” are made fun of by people both in and outside of the fanbase. They might have worked well for AoStH and Satam, but they certainly don’t in the main series.

Japanese portrayals of Sonic were far less aggressive than their English counterparts. In fact, he keeps his cool pretty well but boy does he sound pissed in the rare event he actually does get angry. He’s been pretty consistent in acting this way in most, if not all of his appearances. In fact, there’s a character script from SA2 describing the character in exactly this way - you can see it here.

In some cases, this causes the games to lose subtle details like nods to other titles. For example a boy in Station Square who references Little Planet, or Sonic’s reaction to seeing Shadow in Heroes.

Secret Rings -> Black Knight Portrayal

Sonic is a depressed lover boy in 06 IMO. I don’t really want to get into that, so let’s skip that one.

Starting around the time of Secret Rings, Sonic games finally started to get localisations that were pretty accurate in both English and Japanese. There’s a reason the storybooks and Unleashed aren’t brought up nearly as much as the other games are for Sonic saying dumb lines. I mean, there’s still word differences, but they don’t go full on adding in random one-liners.

In fact, the only concern seemed to be the voice actors. For Sonic himself, even though Griffith eventually improved he was still nowhere near what Kanemaru (and that guy who voiced the Werehog, but I guess the decision to not have a seperate VA for that in English isn’t his fault) did for the character. (Unleashed example (J) (E), Black Knight example (J) (E))

Colors -> Lost World Portrayal

Starting with Colors though Sonic’s character took a weird turn: He was suddenly shouting cheese more than ever, and they were even showing up in the Japanese version. I think this is largely because they suddenly decided to have Sonic games be written in America by people wholly unfamiliar with the franchise. (Though in defense they’re not the entire problem)

The Japanese/English translation was back to being very different as well, mostly because the scripts included many more jokes and puns that couldn’t be translated well between the two. For instance, Cubot is a Cowboy in the English version but he’s a Ninja in the Japanese one. “Baldy Nosehair” is translated as “Mustached Egg” etc.

In the past, there weren’t a lot of lines you couldn’t easily find a way to translate. I think like, the line that got replaced with Ah Yeah This is Happenin’ is one of the only ones I can think of.

While it’s easy to shit on Colors Sonic, I think he did okay speaking for the game itself - it was lighter than the darker games that had been going on for the last 5 years. The problem isn’t that Colors Sonic existed, it’s that they kept him.

Generations got away pretty easy - there’s not much to even write for that after all. The only real change is the Time Eater scene to omit the reference to Dr. Robotnik.

Lost World is where he really falls apart, that game tried to raise the stakes with the planet draining and Tails kidnapping but in the end he just… couldn’t take himself seriously enough.

For some reason, really starting with Lost World the Japanese script took a wild turn. While Colors and Gens were relatively in the same style, Lost World’s Japanese version improved script in that everyone was generally more in-character. Remember what I said earlier about Sonic getting angry? Compare what he says to the Deadly Six when he sees Robo Tails in the English version to the Japanese one.

Even the jokes in Japanese Lost World are more suited to the character than they are in English. Eggman’s Jetpack at the end for example (J) (E). There’s lots of examples of differences in Lost World, too many to sensibly list really.

Forces Portrayal

IMO Forces has largely the same localization problems as SA1 - the lip syncing is always synced to Japanese (though lip syncing has never been good for both languages in one game) and the English script has a bunch of dumb sounding one-liners that get made fun of.

By now I’m sure you’re probably familiar with the whole “Sonic was tortured” and “Tails went mad” thing, but there’s still a lot of bad apples in the English version that aren’t there in the Japanese version.

The scene where Zavok opens Sonic’s prison cell is very different between the two (J) (E). I mean there’s still the problem about being stuck for 6 months, but Japanese Sonic is notably less fixated on butts here. He also doesn’t mention Chilli Dogs in that scene above while fighting him, or that “It’s been Generations” comment when he meets Classic Sonic.

Forces is definitely a step in the right direction for Sonic compared to Lost World though, even in the English version he’s far less quick to make jokes as he was before.

The game even restores an aspect of Sonic that was absent in Colors and Lost World - starting (and even finishing) the game alone. He was getting kinda circlejerky with Tails in those games, whereas in pretty much every major game other than Sonic 2 and 3 he’s always shown doing his own thing separated from characters like Tails and Knuckles initially and meets up with them afterwards - even if it’s a game like Heroes where it happens all at once in the intro movie.

I don’t know how Forces’ script was made, but if Nakamura is saying that the script was passed between Pontaff and Goya with the two making changes, they need to make sure that they both end up with the same result.

Passing the script between America and Japan is fine, but at the end of the day they need to make sure that both sides have scripts that match each other as close as possible, in order to avoid these character and plot inconsistencies.

Either way, by now presumably Pontaff have had more experience with writing for and have more solid past material for this series than the people who localised the SA1-era games. Considering I’ve heard Pontac refuses to talk about Sonic and Graff’s twitter got trashed by angry fans when he announced writing for the game, surely they should be aware of this characterization issue by now, but I don’t blame them if it ends up being something beyond their control, such as a lack of communication between SoA/SoJ or being forced to write the character that way anyway.

I think ultimately what Sonic the character is dealing with right now is the rotting corpse of 90s American Sonic, who died, came back from the dead, then died and came back again - a zombie that won’t stop falling apart, and the stench is catching up.

[giftingerr1]

Womens Fashion to Suit Your Body Type

Womens way has been important in all refinements through out history. The styles of gear have changed and as each decade passes the profile or look has evolved and altered. Hemlines have constantly adapted and so have trouser shapes, in actuality until the fifties women very rarely wore trousers. Current womens media changes rapidly from season to season and year to year but there is also a huge mixture of different styles in stipulation at any time and in addition to classic styles which are timeless and never really go out of fashion. This huge variety of styles stock that anyone, no lawsuit her sum or word can finds the perfect batteries that testament seeming amazing as long as she knows what she is observing for.

The key to assessment the supplies that evidence seeming amazing is to identify your escape makes and selection out the justness stance of set to pleadings and enhance your corpse shape. There are five main corpse shapes each with its own modes of clothing that happenings it best. Although this rather over simplifies estate and in actuality life, it is not always possible to classify someone into these groups, it gives a general sketch on which kit to try.

Womens compress for pear shapes

Pear shaped describes those whose haunch are wider than the remainder of their body. These are hens who tend to put on burden around their haunch and thighs and in fragments have smaller busts and slimmer waists.

Clothes that flatter and enhance a pear example testament generally be fitted at the waist and flare outwards from the blouse to skim over the hips and thighs. A queue skirts seeming great on those with a pear shape. Other tricks to flatter a pear phrase include insipidness out the hips with wide or detailed necklines or wide bottomed trousers. Pear shapes will seeming best with darker colors and little fuss and detail as possible on the beds half.

Womens bandage for apple shapes

Apple shaped noblewoman tend to output recognition around their middles and are characterized by thicker waists, rounder tummies and comparatively slimmer firearms and legs. They can type the hordes of their legs by wearing shot skirts and their arms by wearing sleeveless tops. They should avoid plan caution to the core of their herd by wearing anything tight fitting, panels or detail around this area. Empire queue dresses and tops are especially flattering for apple shapes as the webs falls from just under the bust and skims over the tummy area.

Womens supplies for hourglass shapes

The hourglass icons is characterized by feminine curves or a larger bust and haunch with a slim waist. The key to bandage this model is to celebrate the curves and cinch in with a area to highlight a slim waist.

Well appointee and supportive underclothing is a good foundation for a flattering outfit for an hour glass shaped lady. Pencil skirts with fitted tops company well for those with an hourglass figure as do tops with v necks, square necks or wrap over styles. Avoid set that are too loose stores or too clingy. Fitted or jersey stores that skim over curves will seeming best.

Womens kit for slim frames

Some woman have very slim frames with little meaning between the bust, blouse and hips. There are scads of different styles that this mob arrangement can successfully disintegration but generally features that add semblance will be the crowd flattering. Look for ruffles, peplums, details, draping and block personality to add job and interest to outfits.

There are wealth of other clever tricks that you can employ to cover-up or raffle sign away from your least favourite parts of the body. You can also measure out larger waistband of the pack by wearing plain commoner colors on it and series that type another sliver of the corpse look larger.

For more info [ https://giftinger.com/product-category/mens-fashion/ ] visit our site.

[fangirl--writes]

Art at its Finest. Penguin x Reader

The weather in Gotham was always the same: Dark, Cloudy, somewhat muggy, and on an occasion rainy, it varied between light breezy drizzles and massive downpours that chilled a person to the bone, soaking them from head to toe, umbrella or not. Being a native Gothamite, you accustomed yourself to the dreary weather of the fair city. But- Some days on very rare occasions the sun would break free of its cloud prison and the skies would be rinsed clean of their gloomy, dark makeup and return to their natural, fluffy, cotton like states.  The city would be bathed in the golden light of the sun and things would seem at peace, the grass seemed greener and the people seemed happier on those rare sunny Gotham days, and today happened to just be one of those very days. The warm lights of the morning sun streamed through the curtains that covered your bedroom balcony window. A gracious smile graced your face as you turned in bed to face the heated rays. These rare days were your favorite. Arms threw themselves in the air as you stretched out under your sheets, your eyes fluttering open, your vision blurry, as they try to adjust to the bright lights that bathed your bedroom walls in a soft glow. With a quick yawn you rolled yourself out of bed, smile still on your lips as you slipped into the bathroom of your small apartment. It was an old building like its hundreds of twins that lined the streets; few houses were actually free of the title “old,” but they were nestled in the private districts home to the big wigs, and politicians of Gotham. You brushed out your tangled locks, before returning to your bedroom slipping on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, slipping on your trusty sneakers you headed to the living room. Pens, paintbrushes and canvas were scattered across the coffee and side tables, your eyes scanned the space for a particular item.   Your sketchbook. It was elusive, especially on days like this. With a gleeful grin you snatched it from under a pile of crumpled papers grabbing your shoulder bag you tucked it inside and headed out into the sunshine. The streets were not too crowded this morning as you headed to the little coffee shop down the street, a quaint little café with yummy pastries and a lovely spot to sit and draw the passerby. The quiet bell dinged over head as you entered the shop, ordered your favorite drink and took it to the patio. Silently you began to sketch the unsuspecting people, anything that stayed still longer than a minute you attempted to put down in your small book. They’d move eventually and you’d start on a new one. People walking their dog, lovers who swooned over each other, the little robins and jays that hopped at your feet, anyone could fall victim to your sketching.  It was a mixture of things, young and old, large and small some remained with minimal detail as they sped past you in a hurry. However; there were few of them who lingered giving birth to full bodied, cross hatch, shadowed pictures with willow like limbs. You smiled at the graphite drawings continuing your work on a little boy who stood with his mother at the cross walk across the street. A darkly dressed figure darted into the corner of your eye causing the little boy to be pulled close, silently you cursed at the change in position. You looked up to watch the man who dared ruin your sketching; he stood tall as he strutted across the sidewalk,  immediately your pencil set to work tracing his thin outline on the paper, you quickly noted his left leg slightly dragged behind him, but not enough to be noticeable. Silently you watched him from behind your strands as he stepped up the concrete stairs carefully, mindful of his leg, your eyes absorbed in his facial features as he passed you, his nose was somewhat crooked like that of a bird beak, his cheeks were high and his face was sharp, leaving his eyes to be hidden behind a pair of midnight colored glasses. You tensed as he paused before opening the door; you were staring, too caught up in the mysteries that may lie behind those circular shaped spectacles. He only waited a mere second before opening the door and heading inside, quietly muttering about the midday heat.

You sat frozen as the door closed behind the man, too afraid to look anywhere but ahead until he was inside. You set the pencil down admiring the sketches you’d managed of him. His face was scattered across the new page, dapper attire sticking out among the modern clothing of your other models. They weren’t enough… He was different, even on one of Gotham’s brightest days, he seemed to be brooding, you didn’t fail to notice the way people moved out of his way, the looks they gave him as he passed were a mix of sympathy, and fear. You stole a look over your shoulder, the little shop had become quite busy of the course of half an hour, he stood in line patiently waiting his turn to order; you placed your sketchbook in your bag and pencil behind your ear as you snatched up your drink before taking a deep breath and heading inside. You took up a seat by the front window so you could still watch the passerby, and you could see the mysterious man through the reflection in glass, placing your sketchbook on the table your pencil set to work taking in the way his figure leaned on the umbrella held like a cane, the position of his feet and how his sunglasses were now placed neatly on the top of his spiked puff of hair, the grip on your pencil tightened as you strained to see the color of his eyes through the glass. Blue, clear as the midday skies overhead, bright with thought and intellect; a shade that would put all the colored pencils in your arsenal to shame; how you wished you’d brought them today. He strode up to the counter confidently, placing his order before handing over payment; he nodded gratefully and headed your direction to take a seat, your head swiveled to watch the passerby outside, hand supporting your chin as you watched. There was something about him as you took peeks in the window; he was unlike anyone you’d ever seen. Unlike the mafia goons that ran around in packs, guns hidden in every crevice, or wanna be criminals that flooded the streets lurking in alleys. Certainly he wasn’t your average Joe Gotham Citizen, a certain aura washed over him, something you’d tried to mimic in your second sketches, but it would never compare to the real thing. That spark, a hidden asset that you couldn’t name, he oozed it, even as he sat in the cushioned booth seat it radiated off his perched form. His shoulders, square, chin high, you could see the wheels turning as his eyes slowly slithered about the store- Planning. Scheming. Dreaming. What you’d give to know which one. You went rigid as your eyes met in the glass- His chilled gaze locked on yours, drinking in your form like a hawk with unsuspecting prey. Your knuckles white, hand trembling as you gripped the pencil for dear life, drowning in his deep whirlpools that seemed to pull you down under further with each passing second. Those eyes seemed to swirl right to your inner most thoughts, the corner of his lips up turned to a smirk as he continued to stare through you, your hopes, your fears, your dreams, all suddenly visible to this stranger, “Kaupleput!”   He blinked, eyes darting up at the counter, a pale lipped grin grazing his face. Just like that, spell was broken, heart ringing in your ears as your chest heaved a sigh of relief   as he stood to retrieve his order, seconds later a sharp snap caused your hand to stiffen. The pencil which you’d gripped for dear life, laid in pieces on the plastic coated table; silently you cursed as you brushed the wooden fragments into your hand before snatching up your empty cup and tossing your bag over your shoulder hurriedly getting up from your seat, head down as you scurried out, the bell ringing over head signaling your hasty retreat. Those icy blue eyes plagued in your mind as you walked, the sun that bathed the streets in a warm glow only hours ago was gone, hidden behind a barricade of dark storm clouds. How could someone make you feel so vulnerable, and yet so wonderful at the same time? It was like his eyes peered into your very being, exposed and open for him to read a favorite book. His name bobbed in your conscious Kaupleput. Where had you heard that name? Your bag bounced against your hip as you neared your building, keys swinging on your finger. In passing perhaps? It could very well be a common name; Gotham was a melting pot after all, a family name maybe. Yes, a family name. There were plenty of elitist families living within the city; he certainly looked the part, you hadn’t a doubt in your mind he could certainly act the part. The familiar click in the door set your mind at ease as you headed up the stairs to your apartment. Not a moment too soon; your eyes caught sight of the heavy downpour outside, pounding against the window as you headed down the hall. You slid your keys in the door and headed inside tossing your bag on a nearby chair, before crashing on the couch the bright light of your small television illuminating the room as you flipped through the channels.

“Robbery at local businessman’s restaurant turned deadly yesterday afternoon- You paused on the breaking news report half interested, “a breaking development in the Bamonte’s shooting- Scenes of downtown Gotham flashed across the screen as a reporter’s flat voice filled your living room. “The four men that ascended on the restaurant owned by esteemed business man Salvatore Maroni, gunned down patrons and staff alike before making off with  thousands of dollars in cash,  have been found dead in an abandoned building on Gotham’s east side. Images of the restaurant rolled across the screen, yellow caution tape blocking off the door, and glimpses of the blood soaked interior with G.C.P.D. officers surrounding the area. Your eyes glued to a figure in the window as she continued to speak. “The G.C.P.D. is currently investigating the cause of the deaths, the money has sense been returned Salvatore Maroni who is grateful this horrific event is finally over” It couldn’t be…  A lanky figure trying to avoid the cameras stood hunched behind the man who you assumed was Maroni, his face was pale and blue eyes alert and observant to his surroundings. His sharp suit was replaced with a white staff uniform, it was him. Kaupleput. You jumped hearing a rasping knock at the door. You weren’t expecting anyone; no one had asked to come over, carefully you crept to the door your hands wrapping around the aluminum slugger in the umbrella stand as you peered into the peephole. Not a soul in sight. The hallway was barren suave for a brown bag next to your door. Carefully you slid the chain on your door hand still gripping the slugger as you opened the door just enough to poke the bag. With no sign of movement you proceeded to stick your head out into the hallway peering down both sides before looking down at the bag, hooking the handle with the shaft of the bat and bringing it inside, mindful to lock the door. One could never be too careful in Gotham. You reached into the bag pulling out a note. You left this at the café and I just had to see it returned. Beautiful work; however I made one small adjustment. May our paths cross again. -Kaupleput You pulled out your sketchbook flipping to today’s work turning past the unsuspecting, lovers, birds, finally your eyes landed on the darkly shaded pages filled with his face. In one of the blank spaces next to a quick profile was the scrawl of an ink pen. A Name- Oswald.

[forhandyman]

5 Best Corner Clamps (May 2020) For Delicate Wood Products

We’re really surprised to find out that many people underestimate the importance of a corner clamp (90-degree clamp). Many inexperienced woodworkers even think they can work without it and can achieve the same results.

But the truth is that with one of the best corner clamps, you can see a day-and-night difference.

Unlike simpler tools like pliers or hammer, woodworking corner clamps are more versatile. You can use it to hold almost everything you need – as long as they fit into the claws – to glue or screw them together.

Let’s find out more about corner clamps, how many styles there are, and what we can do with them.

Best Corner Clamps On The Market Right Now

Overview

ImagesProducts RatingPrice

Can-Do corner clamp

Jaw Opening: 2.75 inches

Handle: T-handle

Material: Aluminum

4.7/5View on Amazon See Full Review

Housolution Right Angle Clamp

Jaw Opening: 3.74 inches

Handle: Single/Double

Material: Die-casting aluminum alloy

4.6/5View on Amazon See Full Review

Bessey Tools WS-3+2K

Jaw Opening: 2 3/16 inches

Handle: Single

Material: Die-casting aluminum

4.2/5View on Amazon See Full Review

Horusdy Corner Clamp

Jaw Opening: 2.7 inches

Handle: Single

Material: Die-casting aluminum alloy

4.2/5View on Amazon See Full Review

Weichuan Corner Clamp

Jaw Opening: 2.8 inches

Handle: Single

Material: Die-casting aluminum alloy

4.4/5View on Amazon See Full Review

Can-Do Clamp - Top Pick

View on Amazon

Simplicity is what mainly sets this corner clamp from MLCS apart from other products. Most users seek this feature when they buy the Can-Do clamp as it helps reduce fatigue when doing any simple repair or other woodworking tasks.

Both the right and left areas of the clamps are flat and parallel, which means that the pieces you’re working on will automatically flush up by themselves. It’s not stiff and fixed when you tighten, making a useful wiggle room.

The maximum thickness for T-joints and miter is 2.75 inches, while that of the pass-through stock is 1.5 inches.

The Can-Do corner clamp is made from heavy, durable aluminum with good-quality threads. Together, they create good gripping, holding wood pieces firmly in place.

On top of that, the corners are open, which means glue dripping down the joint can’t mess things up.

You can wall-mount or bench mount it when you need a semi-permanent solution. It also comes with a T-handle, allowing you to adjust the clamp with extra power.

But this handle also means you don’t have any rubber cover, which is not always great for everyone. And sometimes the Can-Do clamp can leave some red marks behind on the wood. This issue won’t go away easily unless MLCS improves the quality of the painting.

The price of the Can-Do clamp is a little higher than an average product, but all things considered, the convenience and reliability it brings are well worth the cost for this best right-angle camp.

Pros.

Straightforward to use

T-handle

Multifunctional

Many mounting options

Sturdy frame

Cons.

Expensive

No rubber handle

Sometimes creates marks on the wood

Housolution Right Angle Clamp - Runner-Up

View on Amazon

This model from Housolution is a solid alternative to the Can-Do clamp above.

Made from die-cast aluminum, it’s durable and weighs only 1.8 pounds – surprisingly low weight for a corner clamp. The maximum opening is 2.86 inches, while the jaw has a width of 3.74 inches. You can find it in various color options such as orange, red, black, gray, etc.

This Housolution right angle clamp features a floating head design with the swing jaw. This adjustable swing style allows you to fix two wood pieces that have different thicknesses together with ease. With the rubberized handle, you can make adjustments easily for this task.

More specifically, it’s made from TPR (thermoplastic rubber). That’s why it won’t slip even when your hand is wet – a huge difference for people with sweaty hands.

But this also means you can benefit from the extra power of a T-handle, especially when you need to use this corner clamp over a workbench.

And like the Can-Do corner clamp, this Housolution is still slightly more expensive. It’s not a big deal when you need a single clamp, but when you need many of them to join your cabinet or drawer, the difference might be significant for some people.

Pros.

Heavy-duty construction

Lightweight

Can hold pieces with different thicknesses with the adjustable swing jaw design

Comfy rubberized handle

Many color options

Cons.

Expensive

No V-groove or T-handle

No quick-release mechanism

Bessey Tools WS-3+2K - Best Value

View on Amazon

Bessey has always been one of the biggest names in the woodworking tool industry. It has produced amazing tools such as bar clamps and parallel clamps, and the WS-3+2K – its corner variant – is also an impressive product.

The die-cast aluminum construction features a plastic covering in order to prevent itself from marring your delicate workpieces.

The clamp head and pivoting screw can adjust themselves automatically to wood with different sizes. This is one of the greatest things about this Bessey angle clamp since you can focus more on keeping the workpieces squared up correctly.

Like the parallel clamps from Bessey, it uses the single handle design for adjustment.

We find that you can actually yield a lot of clamping force with this woodworking clamp. Bessey also includes TK6 table clamps in the box in case you need to mount your clamp securely to a workbench.

And guess what? It’s well-priced compared to the models we have listed above. The Bessey Tools WS-3+2K is the best choice for woodworkers that need multiple reliable corner clamps at the same time.

But many users have found that this corner clamp is not great for mitered joints or one-handed usage.

Pros.

Well-priced

Sturdy

Comfortable

Include and plastic insert and TK6 table clamps

Cons.

Heavy

Not great for mitered joints

Not easy to use one-handed

Horusdy Corner Clamp - Best Cheap Model

View on Amazon

Despite its low price, the Horusdy corner clamp offers a lot of ergonomic features.

It has a soft non-skid rubber handle so you can hold it comfortably. And this handle is attached to a rust-proof spindle screw, which you can use to retract to push the jaws.

Because of the single-handle design, there are two swivel points on this Horusdy model that allow the head of the clamp to float. This means you can use it with two workpieces of different widths. And if you prefer a T-handle design instead, check out the Horusdy Quick-Jaw Right Angle.

You can operate this aluminum-alloy corner clamp effortlessly: just put the woodblocks in, then tighten them by turning the screw. It even comes with a quick-release mechanism! You don’t need to unscrew this clamp tediously once you’re done.

Similar to other more expensive models, the body is made from die-cast aluminum, making it fairly sturdy and abrasion-resistant.

The best part about the Horusdy corner clamp is that it’s significantly cheaper than other models we have mentioned. This really matters when you need a lot of them in multiple corners.

It seems that this product is so great, so what is the catch?

Well, many users have said that the quick-release mechanism is not reliable and sometimes even fails, making it difficult to tighten the workpieces. And Horusdy also doesn’t equip any V-grooves, so holding round objects is also out of the question.

Pros.

Cheap

Sturdy construction

Ergonomic handle

Quick-release mechanism included

Floating head design allows for clamping wood blocks having different widths

Non-skid rubber handle

Cons.

No V-grooves

No locking feature on the quick-release mechanism

Weichuan Corner Clamp - The Most Overlooked

View on Amazon

If you aren’t really satisfied with the popular models above and don’t mind giving a less well-known brand a try, this corner clamp from Weichuan is our recommendation.

It also features a die-cast aluminum-alloy construction and works well with various materials, from wood, steel rod to thick glass and metal tube.

The single handle is rubberized to provide non-slip gripping, which you can use to open the jaw to 2.8 inches hassle-freely. The spindle screw also features electroplating coating to make it rust-proof.

But like any other corner clamp, it indeed has some issues of its own. While we find no rough edges, the faces are not entirely flat. The poorly-cut threads are hard to loosen or tighten while the metal seems too lightweight and thin.

And the Weichuan is not a great choice for big woodworking projects as well. It still can hold small workpieces (like a photo frame or frame box) firmly, but as the sides are pretty low, you may face some troubles with big woodblocks.

Pros.

Versatile, work well for various materials

Rubberized handle

Rust-proof rotating spindle screw

Cons.

Only suitable for small projects

How To Know Which Corner Clamp Is The Best For You

Jaw Capacity

The thing you should always check first on a 90-degree angle clamp is the clamping range. Manufacturers often give this number in inches or millimeters, which indicates the maximum clamping width when the jaws are fully open. It’s important since it determines the thickness of wood pieces you can fit in the clamp.

The general advice is it should depend on what you plan to work on. And if you’re still not sure about this, just look for a wide jaw opening (above 2.7 inches) so that you are not limited to small metal or wood pieces.

Materials

As you may see from the above models, most corner clamps these days are made from aluminum or an aluminum alloy. The main difference usually lies in the specific alloy or how it’s made. But there are also some models made from other metals like zinc.

There is a good reason manufacturers choose aluminum and its alloys to make corner clamps. They are lightweight yet strong enough for the tasks, so you can easily pick up the clamp and carry it to another workbench with ease.

What also matters are the frames and coatings, as they all can make the clamp more long-lasting.

The frames that have gone through the heat-treating process are very sturdy, while high-quality surface coatings are a great help in preventing corrosion. You can find information about the material in the specifications of the product.

Type of Handle

There are two handle designs in these hand tools: T-shaped handles and single/double handles.

The T design allows users to apply a higher torque, which in turn results in a higher clamping pressure. That’s why you can have a good grip easily with a T-handle.

But this style often provides no soft paddling like rubberized covering. It may make your hands uncomfortable or even hurt after holding the metal directly for a long time.

The single or double handles, on the other hand, are extremely comfortable to hold, but you may need more effort to squeeze the claws tightly.

Construction

Double-jaw and swing-jaw are the two designs of most corner clamps on the market.

A swing-jaw model is more compact – an ideal choice if you don’t have a lot of working space. But it also has a lot of moving parts, which affects the whole clamps when it comes to integrity and strength.

The double-design usually results in bigger clamps, but the construction is also more durable and stronger as a result.

FAQs

When do I need a corner clamp?

There are numerous tasks that you can get done with this tool.

The most popular reason for a corner clamp for woodworkers is probably to stabilize wood pieces. In other words, they are an obvious choice if you need a tool to support and hold things in place (picture frames, boxes, cabinets, etc.) before you can actually crave, polish, or join them together.

But there are also many creative applications that you might never think of. For example, when you want to let something dry in its right-angle shape, consider using your corner clamp. It can keep painting, for example, dry and flat with no wrinkles.

So how about what a corner clamp can't do?

Though corner clamps can hold wood pieces together, they can’t actually press them strongly against each other. You should use screws or glue instead.

Can I use a corner clamp for welding?

While many manufacturers claim that their products are good for welding, we don’t always recommend this. You should avoid doing so, especially when your clamp has many plastic parts, and find a welding clamp instead.

Can I adjust the angle of a corner clamp?

As the name suggests, corner clamps are intended only for 90-degree angles. Get an adjustable, multi-angle clamp if you plant to work with other angles.

Conclusion

Finding the best corner clamps for your work is always worth the effort. They can provide an accurate 90-degree angle, meaning you can create more high-quality works with precise joints.

The best way to do so is to figure out what kind of wood you need to work with first, then consider design, materials, or construction.

But if you’re new to woodworking and don’t know what you actually need, we recommend the Can-Do clamp, which has a durable construction and is comfortable to use.

The post 5 Best Corner Clamps (May 2020) For Delicate Wood Products appeared first on For Handyman.

[megacircuit9universe]

X-Tech: Never Possible Until it is

THU JAN 02 2020

I just watched the latest video by YouTuber, Isaac Arthur, who I’ve been following for years, and greatly respect, addressing time travel, but while he tried to cover every version of time travel that comes up in science fiction, and in legit scientific discourse... he did not cover the version I talk about in this blog.

I was a bit surprised, but then again, mine (explained in the entry entitled, Time Travel Basics, and fleshed out in some follow ups shortly after it) is basically the John Titor version of time travel.

And over the 13 or so years since I first read the Titor stuff online, I’ve noticed that nobody, either in fiction, or legit discourse, ever does venture anywhere near the Titor model... which is kinda strange, given that so many other, clearly unworkable models pop up all the time.

It’s not as though the Titor model is just so ridiculous that it’s not even worth considering... because, well... plenty of very ridiculous models for time travel are given very serious consideration, in our movies and science fiction novels, if not elsewhere.

Still, the original message boards where Titor appeared, to talk about how he was a time traveler, and explain what he knew about how his military issue time distortion unit worked, were forums for physics students and physics enthusiasts.

And what always struck me reading the back and forth on those forums was that nobody ever challenged his technical explanations.  Everybody seemed to agree that the physics part of his story held up.

But that part was way over my head at the time, so I was very curious to understand why the physics seemed to hold up so well.

It took me most of those 13 years, watching recorded lectures and other videos on YouTube, and listening to several audio books on my commutes, dealing with different aspects of both quantum physics and string theory... before it finally clicked in my head, and I could see that Titor’s explanation not only squared with physics, but so did the schematics he’d provided.

Again, go back and read, Time Travel Basics, but, in a nutshell, it’s this idea of using two micro black holes... controlled by manifolds that inject electrons either into them, to increase their spin, or at angles across their event horizons, to slow the spin... to create two nested bubbles of frame-dragged spacetime, the inner one with positive time, and the outer one with negative time.

I won’t get further into it than that here, except to say that the one thing Titor talked about that always stumped me were the gravity sensors.  

Inside his two nested bubbles of spacetime, he was essentially in his own tiny universe, outside the main universe, but was able to maintain a lock on the Earth’s movements backward through time (rotating backward and revolving around the sun backward as the whole solar system revolved backward around the center of the galaxy) thanks to gravity sensors that would give feedback to the manifolds, telling them how to maneuver the two micro-singularities to stay with the GPS coordinates on Earth’s surface, from which he had departed.

I finally got my answer one morning in the car on the way to work, listening to an audio book on string theory, when the author explained how, unlike light, gravity could be felt between branes (or membranes) of space time.

It’s one possible explanation for why gravity is such a weak force on our own brane, compared to much stronger forces like electromagnetism... because gravity leaks out into the greater, “bulk,” of the multiverse.

He didn’t know it, but he’d told me that Titor’s gravity sensors could work... which was the final piece of the puzzle.

Everything else, from creating micro-singularities in particle accelerators, and capturing them magnetically, for industrial use... to manipulating their spin, mass, and attitude with a manifold of cathode rays (such manifolds were how old color tube TV sets worked)... to the nuclear powering of the device... to the many worlds theory... all passed, for being physically plausible.  So when the gravity sensors checked out too... well, that’s when I knew Titor was probably telling the truth.

So why am I so alone in this belief, in 2020... and why has the whole Titor model pretty much vanished from the conversation?

Well... this is what you might expect to happen when a person with a working model of something tries to explain it to people from the past who just aren’t there yet.

Imagine going back to the year 2000, and explaining on a serious tech forum how a typical smart phone from 2010 works... it’s a got a touch screen, and a bunch of gyros and sensors packed inside, and a lithium battery and... bla bla bla... 

Even though they are all well versed on the subject of tech, and are only about seven years away from the first smart phone... it’s likely that nobody will take your strange new idea seriously.  

Some will point out how certain features are just too far away... and the internet infrastructure couldn’t support such a thing... and the level of miniaturization isn’t realistic... and the batteries would be volatile and prone to explosions.

Others will argue that even if such a device could be Frankensteined together, nobody would want one device to do everything.  Nobody wants to watch TV shows on their alarm clock, that is also their flashlight! 

Why would they be like that?  Well... you know how people are.. when they consider themselves the experts and the vanguards of a given field.

Who are you anyway?  You’re just some rando who claims to own one of these so-called, “smart phones,” and you don’t even know how it works.  

You’re just a fanciful futurist describing some fanciful vision for a thing that would be nearly impossible to make, and totally impractical, probably, and that nobody asked for.  Get out of here!

My other example would be explaining how a modern airplane works, to scientists in... say... 1875.  Even if you were spot on with your description of a typical 737... with its wings, aelerons, flaps, jets, etc... its hydraulic control tubes and its aluminum body... fueled by a petroleum based liquid stored in its wings...

They would counter by explaining to you why none of that would actually work, and even if it could... nobody would ever convince a hundred regular civilians to climb into such a death trap and “fly” from New York to Los Angeles... in “hours.”

Get the fuck out of here!

My argument here, about experts and vanguards rejecting working ideas from the future... is kind of borne out by how far off the mark they always are, when asked to envision future tech.

Such visions are always hilariously wrong, because they are always clearly based on exactly what they know in the moment... plus what little they know about a few experimental things going on.  

But they never think about the unforeseen breakthroughs, both large and small, that can help make seemingly ridiculous things like the Boeing 737, or the IPhone 4, possible, practical, and marketable.

The above two analogies are not perfect though, because in John Titor’s case, he was in the military, using a military issue time machine.  It wasn’t a tech civilians even knew about, necessarily... and also, as I said earlier, there really wasn’t any push back from the nerds on his forums about the physics.  

They agreed it was theoretically sound enough not to bother attacking, and instead focused on his descriptions of the future... his past... all the world events to come later in the 2000s, 20-teens, and beyond.

And, while he answered honestly, he also explained that his appearance in 2000 meant they were all now on a different world line, that would not play out the same way.

His recollections were framed as predictions... and when the predictions didn’t come to pass... Titor was considered by most, debunked.

Some argued for a while... correctly, that they were never predictions, because he explained that we were on a different world line than his.  But... others countered, by pointing out how this argument makes his predictions unfalsifiable... which, in logical terms, means they’re garbage.

The whole discussion ended there... without ever really touching the mainstream consciousness.  John Titor was considered, by those who knew about him, to be just a fun hoax... and, like any other meme... fell out of fashion and was forgotten.

But my point is... he had schematics!  He had sound explanations for how the tech worked!  Screw the predictions... or arguments that the predictions are unfalsifiable!  The tech holds up!  Look at that!  Talk about that!

Look at the rather flawless descriptions of how it came to be invented, what it was being used for, and what it was like to operate a time distortion unit, from the perspective of the guy in the driver’s seat.  

It really irks me that everybody has both ignored and forgotten about that very tangible, testable part of Titor’s story... and then come back today with those same tired old arguments like, “If time travel were possible, we would have heard from one of them by now!”

Oh, really?

“If it were possible, we would have time tourists all over the place, and always would have, since Ancient Rome.”

Really?  Cuz... what if it was just a military tech not available to the public and what if it only had a small practical range of a few decades... as explained both by Titor, and by my Time Travel Basics entry?  Huh?

Huh???

Well... I guess I’m just gonna have to be content with being a crackpot, with no audience. :(

Be that as it may, my  model predicts that WW2 is the great historical barrier for time travel... with only a few rogue time travelers daring to go even as far back as the late 1940s... where they could still hope to refill their oxygen tanks, and get some kind of crude repairs done to their time distortion units.

Most only go as far back as the mid 1970s, with a few outliers hitting the 60s or 50s, and probably never finding their way back to anything like the home worldline they came from, after straying that far afield with no way to establish their, “divergence” to any useful degree.

But the twenty-teens were (are, will be) a good pit stop... the Denver, or Phoenix of Time Travel... if it were a coast to coast drive across the U.S... because things were (are, will be) just advanced enough to stop and get your bearings, or resupply, or get repairs done... but far enough away from the home time (which is the late 2030s) to bother stopping.

It’s possible that the 2020s will be the same kind of Denver for time travelers of, say, the 2050s... and that the 2030s themselves will be a Denver for time travelers of the 2080s... but if so... these more sophisticated time travelers from further in the future will probably be a lot more careful about the cybernetic impact of their pit stops in these future decades.

In other words, they’ll be more careful not to turn the internet, and therefore the world around them, into a total circus of unreality, in which all the locals question their sanity every day on a regular basis.

Things should calm down for us, in the 2020s, is what I’m saying... at least in the socio-political sphere.  The climate’s gonna be something different, but...

...whereas in the twenty-teens you were saying, “I can’t believe so and so is the leader of my country and so many assholes are coming out of the woodwork, and the rest of us feel unmoored from reality, as if we’ve been sucked into a parallel universe!”

In the 2020s you’re more likely to be saying, “I can’t believe we had a thunder snowphoon in July, and that Lake Eerie is on fire, but thank God the world’s leaders are on top of this, and have the support of pretty much everybody, except for the oldest, shittiest cranks who we all ignore.”

And maybe you’ll also be saying, “Thank God, also for [X-tech] without which everybody would be so fucked right now!”

Man, that was a long ramble!

Sorry.

I’m going to bed.