#time to wait for it to not ship for a while and get a refund (there’s still a chance it will arrive)

[two-of-bugs]

dropped 50 buckaroos on that italian kamen rider vinyl that came out in march without double checking where it was shipping from and turns out it was a scam listing

[hexb0nes]

Sugar, Spice, & Everything Nice

I. COFFEE BEANS & UNSATSIFED DREAMS

word count: 5k

pairing: sugar daddy!jayce x sugar baby!reader

contains: the brutality of working in the food/beverage industry, karenism, alludes to depression, social and physical isolation

summary: life as a barista is fine when the customers are, but a terrible exchange between you and a demanding customer leaves you upset and angry. billionaire jayce talis emerge from his solitude to get his life back on track. your hard days lead to an unlikely meetup.

author's note: chapter one is here!!! many thanks to my beta reader @bb-enablefreebuild for her help <3 i hope y'all enjoy this, i know a few folks in @madschiavelique's discord server were craving some sugar daddy jayce ;D

The aroma of coffee beans and freshly warmed pastries wafts through The Last Drop, a local café in the heart of Piltover City. Chattering customers of all sorts fill up the shop, some awaiting for their drinks while others partake in their sweet treats. It’s a busy day, the third busy day in a row for the week. Busy days mean more tips, but–

You run through the backside of the café, sweat sticking to your forehead from the heat emitting from the various equipment. The morning shift is down by two workers, leaving you and your remaining coworkers Gertude and Mylo to man the ship, a rapidly sinking ship.

“We need a medium flat white! Oat milk and medium roast!” Gertude yells to you from behind the cash register. The amount of customers waiting to order barely fits inside the queue belts, some grumbling about the long wait. Remember, busy days mean more time.

“I’m on it!” you shout back in confirmation and make a mad dash into the back of the shop. 

With the grace of a bull in a china shop, you throw yourself at the espresso machine and dump some coffee beans inside the chute, turning the machine on and adjusting the setting until you pull out an adequate espresso shot. You hastily steam the oak milk and with the ingredients ready, you pour a flat white as best as your trembling hands could.

“Flat white with oat milk and medium roast!” you pop out to the front with the coffee in hand. An older woman with a quilted jacket appears before you, “Thank you, dear,” she takes the coffee from your hands. She pulls out a five dollar bill from her pocket and hands it to you, “Good luck to you and your friends!”

“Thank you so so so much,” you thank the customer profusely. She tips her head and walks off; you turn around to get back to the coffee machines when an annoyed voice calls out to you, “Excuse, ma’am.”

You spin back around to the front and come face-to-face with a middle-aged man in business attire. His face is so red, you fear that he’s having a stroke. Unfortunately, Mr. Not-Having-A-Stroke thrusts his to-go coffee cup towards your face, “This coffee is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted! I want a refund!”

You attempt to placate the businessman with a well-trained smile, “I’m sorry, sir, but we have a no refund policy because all of our items are perishable.”

“What?!” he screams. The businessman snatches the cup from your hands, “That’s ridiculous! I demand to speak to your manager!” 

Fucking Karen. You let out a small sigh from under your breath and slip into your default customer service voice, “Yes, sir. One moment, please.” 

Mr. Karen gives a grunt of approval, “Good, I don’t have all day.”

You piece of shit. “If you’d just give me a moment,” you shout for your boss from the back of the shop before turning towards the customer, “He should be here momentarily.”

Less than a minute goes by when Mr. Tomato-Face starts tapping his foot.

Two minutes pass, still no sign of your boss. The businessman glares daggers into your soul, “Shout for him again.”

“Sir, he’ll be here in a few. Please be patient,” you grit your teeth.

Another minute goes by.

“Shout for him. Again,” Mr. Karen demands.

“Sir, like I said, he’s—”

Splash!

You fail to shield yourself from the splash of coffee chucked at you from the angry customer. Lukewarm coffee hits your chest and your face, drenching your apron and shirt in muddy brown. A hush falls upon the café patrons, most witnessing the volatile exchange.

“Sir.”

The deep but calm voice of the café owner—Vander Gallagher—breaks the silence of the room. He towers over Mr. Tomato, his muscular biceps on display with his fitted shirt. The businessman cowers pathetically under the massive figure of your boss, “Oh— I—”

“I’m asking you to leave the premises,” your boss states. He shoots you a glance and asks, “Would you like to press charges for assault?”

“No need,” you wipe off some coffee droplets from your face, “I’m not gonna waste my time on a lowlife like him.”

“Very well,” Vander looks down at the businessman and places a large hand on his shoulder, “How about you pay my kind barista over here so she can replace her uniform, alright? A fifty dollar bill should do, then you can be on your way.”

“O– O– Okay,” the businessman stammers, opening his leather wallet and pulls out the requested bill. Vander smiles at the coward’s cooperation and pockets the money, “Say smile!”

In a flash, Vander snaps a photo of your assaulter with his phone. The businessman winces at the sudden flash and retreats from the café once released from Vander’s hold. A few café patrons trade concerned frowns while others mumble among themselves. 

“Apologies, folks!” Vander puts on a cheery smile, “Please continue with your meals and drinks! All is well.”

Chitchat resumes in the café, whispers about the earlier scene reaching your ears. Vander enters the back with you and pulls you into a side hug. Defeated, you accept his touch and crumble.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he informs you. Shaking your head, you reply back, “I can’t, we’re already low as is– Don’t worry about it,” Vander cuts in, “I’ll take over for you and don’t worry about the pay, I’m still paying you for your whole shift.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you sniffle, “You sure?”

“I’m positive,” your boss confirms. He passes you the fifty dollar bill, “Here’s your compensation for that asshole. I’ll give you a new apron.”

“Thanks,” you offer Vander a weak smile and shove the bill in your pocket.

“Of course,” he chuckles, “

You strip yourself of your ruined apron and pass it off to Vander. He waves you goodbye and you leave for the small break room in the far back of the café. Wiping away any escaped tears, you approach your locker and crack the combination lock to open it. You toss your visor and name tag inside before removing your satchel and jacket from the locker, slamming it shut with an annoyed huff. 

Fucking asshole, you steam your anger out in your thoughts, as you exit the café, This was one of my favorite shirts, the stained shirt is of your favorite cover album of your favorite band, The Firelights. You plop down outside the café and hug your knees to your chest, I hate it here. I hate working here. I hate, I hate, I—

“Hi.”

A husky voice greets you. Peering up from your ball of sadness, you see the owner of the voice. It’s a bearded man dressed in a baseball hat and dark sunglasses, paired with a plain white T-shirt and blue jeans. His bomber jacket appears weathered from use; you narrow your eyes to get a closer look and notice a familiar symbol on the breast pocket, a tilted hourglass. 

“Can I sit here?” the man inquires, his broad stature blocking the blinding light of the sun.

“Sure, be my guest,” you mumble indifferently. 

The man takes a seat beside you and rests his head against the concrete wall, “Bad day?”

“Very bad day,” you reaffirm, pulling out of your sadness ball and stretching out your legs. 

The man beside you raises his eyebrows and points at your shirt, “You’re a fan of the Firelights?”

“Oh,” you nod and cast another look at his bomber jacket, “Yeah, I am. You are, too, yeah?” you gesture at the Firelights’ symbol on his jacket, “Judging from the jacket.”

“For sure,” he smiles at you, a pearly white and toothy grin. Despite his Goliath form, the strange man radiates oddly comforting energy, “What happened to your shirt, though?”

Your expression darkens at his question, “Some asshole threw coffee at me ‘cuz I wouldn’t give him a refund,” your words are sour like a lemon, “I doubt I’m gonna be able to get this stain out...”

“Want a new one?” the man asks.

“Want?” you furrow your brow, “Of course, I want a new one, but I don’t have room in my—” you cut yourself short. Why am I telling this man my life story?

“Let me get you one,” his voice is firm, “No ifs or buts.”

You run your hands through your hair, already exhausted enough from the day’s events, and relent to the stranger, “Fine. Deliver it to me the next time you come to The Last Drop.”

“Will do,” the strange man extends a large hand to you, “By the way, it’s nice to meet you, even though it was under not so great circumstances.”

You take his hand and it engulfs your own, as you two shake hands, “Nice to meet you, too, stranger,” you answer back.

The man before you removes his sunglasses and reveals his bright, hazel eyes. His eyes stare into yours and for a moment, all is silent. Pretty, you think to yourself.

“Jayce, actually.”

“Mm?”

“My name’s Jayce. What’s yours?”

You tell your name to Jayce and he grins.

“What a beautiful name.”

Your face warms up at his compliment, a contrast to the autumn chill. 

Noticing your flustered expression, Jayce simply smiles back.

“I’ll see you soon.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Man of Progress. Golden Boy. The One Who Revolutionized the World.

Jayce Talis has many names in reference to his extraordinary work with Hextech and other inventions powered by  new, once unknown sources of energy. He’d been dreaming of changing the world ever since he was a child.. In his heart, Jayce knew he could and that the Universe would guide him to achieving it. 

In elementary school, Jayce discovered such a strange crystal, abandoned in the fields outside his house. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, with its unnaturally vibrant blue color and rigid texture. That crystal would become the key to Jayce’s quest of bettering the world.

Years went by, as Jayce grew up from a chubby cheeked boy to a handsome, grown man. He sped through high school, college, and graduate school with the help of a lacrosse scholarship, but Jayce felt no fulfillment with his fancy degrees. His free time was dedicated to toying with the crystal. Hours were consumed by his non-stop research in his university’s lab, but no answers would come about.

Then Viktor Novak entered the picture, the second key to revolutionizing the world. 

A scrawny, vampirically pale man, Jayce would encounter him infrequently during his time at graduate school. As assistant to the Dean, Viktor had to be everywhere and juggle everything. The two would have the occasional conversation, but nothing bloomed beyond that; not until a chance meeting in the engineering lab that exposed Viktor to the allure of solving the mysterious crystal. 

Viktor shared the same dream as Jayce, to make the world a better place. With his cane in tow, Viktor climbed from the pits of the small subsector of St. Zaun to the skyscrapers of Piltover City; a brilliant man who wanted more in life than to be an assistant and to give power to his community. A dream that would come to fruition with the help of that little blue crystal. 

The night that changed the world involved the pair running through more equations and analyses than a stockbroker with cocaine. They were running on fumes and an empty coffee pot. In the midst of their sleepless delirium, Viktor suggested the impossible, “What if it’s from space?”

Jayce laughed his head off at the mere idea, his head throbbing from caffeine withdrawal and the desperate need to sleep. Yet, the steely glint of seriousness in Viktor’s eyes made the scientist quiet down. He never considered the possibility of the crystal’s origin being from space…the crystal’s structure was more similar to quartz than anything else. 

While Jayce pondered the possibilities, Viktor set down a streak test plate and filed the crystal against it. It sparked. At the same time, the lights in the lab flickered for a brief moment. 

Curious, Viktor rubbed the crystal against the plate again, inciting the same reaction from the lab lights. No material on Earth has ever done that. 

A crazy idea exploded inside Jayce’s head. 

He grabbed the crystal off the streak plate and secured it inside the lone centrifuge in the corner of the lab, much to Viktor’s horror. He scolded Jayce for such a reckless act, but Jayce fired back with the notion that if the crystal was an unknown material from space, they couldn’t operate under Earth rules. 

Unable to argue with his logic, Viktor handed his fellow scientist some eye protection and stepped far away from the centrifuge. Jayce strapped goggles firmly around his eyes and steadied himself with a deep breath. He d turned  on the centrifuge and history unfolded before their very eyes. 

The crystal spun like a gymnast on steroids. It spun and vibrated and spun some more until– 

The centrifuge exploded in a flash of blue light, energy rippling through the lab. Lights in the lab intensified for a moment before blinking out, engulfing the room in darkness. Jayce and Viktor ran to the windows and stared outside in a mix of awe and concern. The power grid for the entire campus was fried, shrouding the university in pitch black. Viktor hobbled back to the damaged centrifuge and brushed off some debris, picking something up. In his hand, the crystal laid unharmed.  

Jayce Talis and Viktor Novak, a pair of terribly exhausted and somewhat deranged scientists, discovered renewable energy unlike anything the world had ever seen.

They secured the funding of sponsors like Medara Industries, the potential of getting their grubby hands on potent energy was too powerful to resist. Jayce and Viktor developed a wide variety of inventions powered by the energy of the crystal, which they dubbed as the Hex Crystal. From engines for cars to prosthetics, the two’s inventions soared them into the stratosphere of fame and glory. While Viktor preferred to be in the shadows and tinker away in the lab, Jayce was made for the spotlight; he enchanted the nation with his charm and smarts, cementing his place as America’s Sweetheart and The Man of Progress.

Jayce Talis achieved his dream of changing the world… but the cost of such victory would catch up with him eventually. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Seven years had passed since the discovery of Hextech and the founding of Hex Energy Incorporated. A board of directors and investors was established and managed a bulk of the corporation, such as marketing and finances. Viktor Novak, one of the two founders, became the CTO—chief technology officer—but still dedicated his time to hiding in his personal lab and creating schematics for new inventions. As for Jayce Talis, the other founder, he maintained the position as chief executive officer, the CEO and smiling face of Hex Energy.

Jayce had everything, billions to his name. When the money from Hex Energy started rolling in, his first “purchase” was spent on his mother, Ximena. He ensured that her retirement would last for decades; she deserved it, after all, as she spent a good decade or so raising Jayce by her lonesome after his father’s passing. 

After setting up his mother for a life of comfort and security, Jayce’s later financial decisions were much more impulsive. He indulged himself in a playboy lifestyle with yachts, international trips, and mansions galore, brimming with the smooth and the sexy. Jayce lived it up like Bruce Wayne without a care, drowning himself in the thrills of fame and fortune. 

The appeal of such a life wore off eventually by the time Jayce entered his late twenties. There weren't enough fancy suits or round trips to Rome in the world that could compensate for his desire to do better for humanity. 

So, Jayce lit his playboy persona on fire and sold off his frivolous purchases for charity, turning a new leaf as a philanthropist. Like his co-founder and partner Viktor, who vowed not to be a millionaire, Jayce channeled his money into a variety of charities to lighten the load of his bank account, even creating a few of his own to invest funds in. With his new image, Jayce became America’s Favorite, a man who could do no wrong. In the eyes of the public, he was a hero.  

Truth to be told, Jayce Talis was a loser.

Or at least that was how he felt. Viktor was his only friend and his last—as well as  only—romantic relationship fizzled out after a year of courting. Of course, so many people wanted to be friends with the Jayce Talis, but no one wanted to be friends with Jayce Talis. Vultures, these fake friends Jayce had the misfortune of making during his stupidity in his mid twenties. Those stabs from those he trusted most took its toll on Jayce and little by little, he withdrew. In the blink of an eye, he vanished, hidden away in the comfort and safety of his penthouse. 

With Jayce out of the public eye, rumors sparked about his health and wellbeing. Gossip magazines ran article after article on the reclusive billionaire while paparazzi were on the hunt for a photograph of him in the hopes of a lucky break, to get the golden ticket from capturing the Jayce Talis. 

By the third month of “living up” as a hermit, Jayce received a wake-up call from none other than Viktor Novak. 

“Jayce,” his friend’s accented voice crackled from the speakerphone. Jayce’s phone rested on the glass coffee table, its owner preoccupied with scrolling through cable TV, “Jayce, you need to go outside.”

“I’m fine here.” Tombstone? No. Jumanji? No. God, there’s nothing but shit on cable.

“No, you’re not,” Jayce could hear his partner pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “You haven’t left your penthouse in months. It’s unhealthy,” Viktor sighs, “and that’s especially bad when the man with the terminal lung disease says so.”

“No matches yet?” Jayce powered off the TV and picked up the phone, taking it off speaker and holding it against his ear. 

“No, not yet, but I’m still top on the list,” answers Viktor, “But this isn’t about me, Jayce. I’m calling you as a warning.”

“A warning?”

“Yes, a warning. The board has been talking. There have been… discussions of your absence and your role with the company.”

Jayce’s grip on the phone tightened, “What have they been saying?”

“That they want you to resign.”

Within Jayce’s hand, the phone screen threatened to crack from the pressure.

“I’ll be in the office tomorrow morning. Bye, V.”

“Wait, Ja–” the CEO hung up the call with a huff. Jayce collapsed back down against the plush sofa and stared at the ceiling fan. His eyes followed the spinning, Resign? Are they insane?! They wouldn’t have jobs if it wasn’t for me and Viktor! 

Jayce pushed himself off the sofa and dragged himself to the bathroom, What assholes. When I get back tomorrow– Jayce’s train of thought vanished, as he took sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror. No longer did a clean cut and shaved Golden Boy appear in the mirror, but rather a dishevelled beast of a man. His hair reached just above his shoulders, paired with an unkept beard. Depression beard, huh?

Jayce made a quick call to his stylist Margot, who was surprised to hear from him—I thought you died! was how she put it—and scheduled an appointment for later that day to address his beauty emergency. With the appointment confirmed, Jayce entered his Spotify app and turned on whatever ‘motivational’ playlist he could find.

Pumped up music played throughout the bathroom, as Jayce showered for the first time in weeks. Lathering him with bourbon-scented wash products, Jayce relished in the relief that the hot water provided him. He exited the shower back into the steamy bathroom and dried his body and hair, finally clean after weeks of bed rotting. Jayce hated to admit it, but showering did help his mood. 

Once dried, he left the bathroom and threw on a makeshift disguise. Jayce knew that the public wouldn’t recognize him with such long hair and a beard, but he couldn’t take the risk. He dressed as generic as possible and topped it off with his bomber jacket from his college days, the tilted hourglass symbol from his favorite band The Firelights stitched on the breast pocket.

Sunlight greeted him when he vacated his penthouse and outside the apartment complex. He winced at the brightness and covered his eyes with a pair of sunglasses. Jayce wedged his way into the foot traffic, making his way to Margot’s studio. 

A sudden pang of hunger hit Jayce’s stomach, accompanied by a loud growl. Guess I could go for a bagel and some coffee. He continued walking until he caught sight of a café, one surprisingly close to Margot’s. Exiting the bustling sidewalk, Jayce made a beeline for the café, with the words The Last Drop written on its sign.

He reached out for the door, ready to go inside–

Jayce hears a sniffle. 

Close to the entrance of the café, he sees a young woman hugging her knees to her chest. Jayce takes a step closer and the pleasant scent of coffee hits his nose, unsure if it’s from the café or the woman. He hears more sniffling and frowns. Poor thing.

“Hi,” the greeting stumbles from Jayce’s lips without thinking.

At the sound of his voice, the woman lifts her head from her knees and looks around the area, her eyes landing on Jayce. His chest constricts like a boa had wrapped itself around it. The hunger in his stomach is replaced by the sensation of nervous butterflies. The woman before him couldn’t have been more than 25 or 26, but the dark circles under her eyes age her. Poor thing, she looks overworked.

“Can I sit here?” Jayce asks in a gentle manner, not wanting to frighten or come off as creepy. 

“Sure, be my guest,” the woman mumbles. 

Jayce plops down beside the woman and rests his head against the concrete wall. Eyes hidden behind polarized sunglasses, Jayce casts a sympathetic look and smiles at the poor lady, “Bad day?” he inquires.

“Very bad day,” she answers, exhaustion and sadness evident in her tone. The young woman stretches out her legs and lets out a defeated sigh. Jayce opens his mouth to offer reassurance when he notices her shirt, it features the album cover of Misfit Toys, one of the earlier albums from The Firelights. Near the neckline of the shirt, there’s a prominent brown stain splattered on it. 

“You’re a fan of the Firelights?” Jayce points to your shirt. It’s a rare sight to see someone wearing such early The Firelights merchandise unless they had been a fan since the beginning. 

They complimented their merchandise and the familiar feeling of awkward silence begins to sneak its way in. Jayce, desperate to keep it going, blurts out a question about the prominent coffee stain on her shirt. And there goes your opportunity to be a normal guy, ‘Golden Boy’.

The woman’s expression soured at his question and Jayce bit the inside of his cheek. Shit, did I piss– “Some asshole threw coffee at me ‘cuz I wouldn’t give him a refund,” she spits out to Jayce, “I doubt I’m gonna be able to get this stain out,” her eyes glisten with tears. 

Jayce’s instinct is to embrace the woman and comfort her, but he restrains himself from being overly affectionate with the stranger. Don’t come off as a creep, don’t come off as a–

“Want a new one?” Don’t be a creep, Jayce! Damn it!

“Want?” the woman perks up at his offer and furrows her brow, “Of course, I want a new one, but I don’t have room in my–” she shuts herself up and lowers her gaze. Don’t have room in your what? Jayce ponders, In your budget? What has the world come to that someone can’t buy a shirt without worrying about their finances?

“Let me get you one,” Jayce reasserts, unrelenting, “No ifs or buts.” You deserve it after the horrible day you had.

The woman runs her hands frustratedly through her messy hair and concedes, “Fine. Deliver it to me the next time you come to The Last Drop, I work the rest of this week until Friday,” Jayce does an internal fist bump of victory.

“Will do,” he takes a mental note of the T-shirt design. To Jayce’s surprise, he extends his hand out to the woman, a gesture of good faith, “It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles, “Even though it wasn’t under not so great circumstances.”

The woman takes his hand and intertwines it with hers, so small and dainty in comparison. She shakes his hand and returns the good regards, “Nice to meet you, too, stranger.”

Jayce relinquishes his hand from the handshake and takes off his sunglasses, no longer bothered by the sunlight. He locks eyes with the woman, the world around them suddenly silent. Why do I feel so nervous? Jayce questions himself, God, guess I really have been a hermit that I’m getting all flustered just from looking at a woman. The woman bats her eyelashes and slightly parts her lips, likely a subconscious response. Nonetheless, it sends arrows straight into Jayce’s heart, his pupils engulfing his hazel irises. 

“Jayce, actually,” he breaks the silence.

“Mm?” the woman tilts her head at Jayce.

“My name’s Jayce. What’s yours?”

And she, you evidently, answer his question. Jayce grins. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, “What a beautiful name.”

Your eyes widen a bit and you avert your gaze to conceal your flustered face. Jayce can’t help but smile. Adorable. His phone buzzes with an alarm notification, alerting him that his appointment with Margot is in five minutes. Jayce springs up from the ground and bids his farewell, “I’ll see you soon.”

He walks away from the café, purposefully slow. Jayce takes a few sneak peeks from behind to see if you’re still outside the café. There’s no sight of you, you probably left to take care of your soiled shirt. 

The bell above the door jingles, announcing Jayce’s arrival to Madame M’s, Margot’s studio. It’s uncomfortably empty, no sounds of blow dryers or chitchat between stylists and customers. Why is it so empty?

High heels clicking against hardwood floor signals the arrival of a blonde woman with green makeup, “Jayce, baby!” the blonde–Margot–embraces Jayce and gives him a smooch on each cheek, “I’ve missed you so much!” she leads him to a salon chair and drapes a cover over his front, “Where have you been, darling? You vanished off the face of the Earth!”

“It’s a long story,” the CEO awkwardly chuckles.

“Wanna get into it?” the stylist hums, as she rummages through her styling tools. 

“I rather not,” he answers. 

Margot sets down a range of hair clippers and scissors on the table under the mirror, “No worries, just curious. Are we doing your usual today?”

“No, just a clean-up,” Jayce interjects. 

“Very well!” Margot claps her hands together, “This shouldn’t take too long then,” a small smile graces her lips, “Something’s different about you, Jayce.”

“Besides the long hair and beard?” Jayce snorts. 

“Besides that,” Margot grabs some hair clips and scissors, “You look like you went through Hell and I take it that this is your first day in public since your…” she sections off parts of Jayce with the hair clips, “...Your disappearance from the public eye a few months ago. You sort of look like a sad lump of shit..”

“Geez, thanks,” the CEO huffs. 

Margot runs a section of black hair through her comb and snips off the dead ends, “You ran into something,” snip snip snip, “Or someone.”

Jayce’s blood turns cold at her deduction and masks his shock with a cough, “Ah! Well, uhm… I did encounter someone, yes. You’re not wrong about that.”

A boisterous laugh rings in Jayce’s ears, as Margot continues to cut his hair, “Oh, darling! It’s written all over your face. That someone left a mark on you.”

“I was heading to get some coffee when I saw her outside the coffee shop, crying. She was having a bad day and I was trying to cheer her up, that’s all.”

“Mhm… I doubt that. She lit a spark in you. I can tell, of course. I’m French, after all.”

Jayce goes quiet and the earlier events play back in his mind; a toothy grin forms on his face when he remembers your honeyed voice and your beautiful eyes, “She was– is pretty, but that doesn’t constitute ‘lighting a spark’ in me.”

“Think about it deeper, baby. After months of your absence from the public eye, what did the one person you encounter today do?”

It clicks.

“She… didn’t recognize me?”

“Bingo!” Margot cheers, snipping off the last necessary strands from Jayce’s hair, “And isn’t that such a relief? To be unknown?”

Jayce mulls over Margot’s words while she touches up his beard. It is a relief to be unknown, Jayce had not been so since his college days. Talking to you had been the first normal conversation he had with someone in months—no, years—beyond Viktor, his mother, or his de facto sister Caitlyn Kiarmann. I have a chance to be normal. Glee and excitement bubble up in his stomach. 

“Look at your face, darling,” Margot whispers, “You look happy.”

Jayce focuses his gaze onto the salon mirror. He’s now cleanly groomed with a stylish haircut and beard, no longer a Sasquatch. The expression on his face is one of simple content, not too strong and not too weak. 

For the first time in months, billionaire CEO Jayce Talis looks happy.

All because of you, a disgruntled barista whose ruined day led to your paths crossing. 

[vaspider]

This is the last thing I'm going to post about this. Yes, reblogs are turned off. No, I am not tagging anyone's Tumblr or pointing you towards the people involved: I have them blocked. Do not go bother either one of them.

The Tumblr post I responded to earlier tonight went up before I read the actual response emails, because, well. They were sent while I was AFK, and then the Tumblr post containing Razz's response emails was tagged for me while I was, you know, not working. When I finally got to actually read the emails, I hit this line:

I bought the first heat pack during your sale and it said very explicitly in the emails that you guys would send a random one from your supply, no mention that customers needed to put something else in their cart.

Emphasis mine.

And at the point where someone's just fully making stuff up rather than admitting they fucked up, I'm done. So. In the name of my own sanity, I issued a full refund for this order, and:

Hi Razz,

Since you and your friend decided to take this conversation to Tumblr in the 3 or so hours I was AFK spending time with my partners, I hadn't actually gotten an opportunity to go back and read these emails. The first time I saw them was not in my inbox but idly scrolling Tumblr while petting my dog at 11 PM with your friend's, uh… commentary on them. Your assumption that I was condescending and calling you stupid rather than that I'm autistic and speak very precisely is very interesting, in context, and skipping over me saying 'I'm baffled' and 'I'm genuinely confused' to call that 'I think you're stupid' and all of the other really shitty commentary your friend put on those emails is… well, it's a choice. And at first I thought this must be someone out of pocket and white-knighting for you so I was not going to hold you to account for what they said, but then when I went to go block them, I saw your comments, and your posts, so. Yeah, that's fun and cute.

Anyway, the email absolutely did not "explicitly say" that we would be picking from our stock. What it said was, as follows:

"Emet just spent a week going through our entire stock of fabric, adding all of the new patterns & figuring out which designs must be discontinued since the fabrics can't be ordered anymore. She's got all of the closeout heat & cold packs prepped - ready to fill & ship - and you can get one of the discontinued prints FREE with the purchase of any regular-price heating pad, no code required! When they're gone, they're gone, so don't wait! Order by December 14th for domestic heat & cold pack delivery estimated by 12/24."

This section is followed by a selection of 9 New Heat & Cold Pack Patterns, labeled "New Heat & Cold Pack Patterns," followed by another section marked "Closeout Options!" which had 5 of the then 15-20 Closeout patterns, all labeled with CLOSEOUT at the front of the name.

After this was our legally-required footer with our mailing address and the unsubscribe link.

Nowhere in there does it explicitly say that we will be picking the item for you. In fact, it says "you can get one of the discontinued prints free," which would seem to imply you need to pick something.

I'm not sure why I should have assumed that sending you a screenshot would be something inaccessible to you when you… sent me a screenshot. Nobody said you were incompetent. Nobody said you were stupid. Nobody said blind people can't take screenshots. I mean, you took a screenshot of the email that you said explicitly said something it does not at all say, so clearly you personally can take a screenshot, and find that to be a useful tool in communicating. Why would I have thought that responding in kind would be something inaccessible to you? I haven't a clue, but what I do know is that my wife just walked downstairs after her full sleep cycle and said, "Is this still that person?" so … yeah.

I've refunded this order & closed your customer account. It's genuinely worth it to me at this point to lose the money so I never again have to deal with a person who chooses to try to tell me falsehoods about the content of an email that I just told you that I wrote. No further responses will be received by any of our staff.

Spider

I’m not going to waste more time reading paragraphs of you insulting me over not understanding your esoteric definition of closeout and deciding that a blind person can’t be blind if they can take a screenshot. I had a simple question, I practically resolved it myself, and between my first email and the next you leapt to conclusions and treated me like dirt for the crime of not having access to information you never provided in am accessible way.  I choose to speak with a trusted friend over the situation the same way you would speak to your own partners. it was up to them what they did with your own words. Whatever fallout comes of this is on you. I’ve made sure the blind community is aware of your discrimination and as far as I’m concerned that’s the end of this. I hope your shipping costs I never even asked about were worth the income you've lost from me and my extended community since that tiny amount of money appears to be all you care about. 

Razz T. 

Razz,

Go away.

[snabie]

Me: Hi, I've been in therapy since childhood and nothing has helped me. I still struggle with a normal life no matter what I do. My psychologist suspects my BPD has been misdiagnosed and I'm actually autistic and have ADHD, so I'd like to book an assessment, please.

Doctors: Great! That will be 850 Euros.

Me: WHAT.

Hello, I'm Ellie and I hope to raise money for my professional diagnosis through art commissions :3

I would greatly benefit from an official AuDHD diagnosis. I could get proper psychological treatment and medication to help me function. I would finally have an explanation for... well, basically my entire life.

I sadly have no family to support me through this, the two family members I have left don't believe in autism, so I could really use any support at all! I'm tired of hating myself for being "weird", "lazy" and "dumb", and I'm sure my wellbeing would improve drastically with the right treatment.

≡ ꒰ ° Bust ꒱ ˚ · .

Lineart ⤞ 5 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 10 EUR Full Color ⤞ 15 EUR

≡ ꒰ ° Waist ꒱ ˚ · .

Lineart ⤞ 10 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 15 EUR Full Color ⤞ 20 EUR

≡ ꒰ ° Full Body ꒱ ˚ · .

Lineart ⤞ 15 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 20 EUR Full Color ⤞ 25 EUR

≡ ꒰ ° Extras ꒱ ˚ · .

Additional Character ⤞ 15 EUR + Not SFW ⤞ 10 EUR + Banner or Icon ⤞ 5 EUR +

✩ I reserve my right to refuse any commissions I'm not comfortable with. This includes, for example, not SFW of underage characters, art of real people, racist, ableist or transphobic depictions... we can talk about it in DMs or asks :) Most fandoms and OCs are welcome!!

✩ I ask for half the money upfront, half when it's finished! But if I'm unable to finish the commission for some reason (like when the chronic illness is chronic illnessing or my tablet flies out the window), you will be refunded the full price :3

✩ Expected waiting time varies depending on the amount of work! A bust lineart will be finished in a maximum of 3 days, while a full color piece of your favorite ship in detail will take me up to 20 days max.

Here are some examples of my art! Click for better quality :3

Thank you for reading this far! Please consider commissioning me and reblogging this post to spread the word.

Take care <3

[shyhandart]

Commissions Closed!

Thank you for your interest! Heres what you need to know:

I Will do:

Humans/Humanoids (object heads/elves/mermaids/etc)

Anthros

Ferals

Ponies

cannon x oc or self ship

fanart

complex/detailed designs

and more!

I will not do:

nsfw

rude/offensive gestures

hateful or bigoted art

Maybe:

• Gore (depends)

I maintain the right to turn down any commission for any reason

Pricing

I currently accept PayPal and Cashapp only. All prices are in USD

Full bodies:

Flat color: $50

Shaded: $65

Colored lineart: +$10

Half bodies:

Flat color: $35

Shaded: $45

Colored lineart: +$8

Busts:

Flat color: $20

Shaded: $25

Colored lineart: +$5

Each additional character is +50% of the base price*

*(except for busts, which are +75%)

If you have an idea for something not listed here, please ask!

Backgrounds

I have recently changed my tune about backgrounds. If you would like a background, let me know and i will tell you if i think im up to it. Complex backgrounds are a fee of +%50 as they take a lot of time. If you have multiple characters, the background price is calculated AFTER the price of the additional characters. It is up to me to decide what a complex background is.

Simple/abstract backgrounds remain free of charge. If i think a work would benefit from it, i will put a solid or swirly colored shape behind it and send you a version with and without the background so you can decide which you like better. You may request a basic background on your own.

TOS:

I retain the right to post your completed piece to any of my social medias to use as an example of my work and a testament to my reliability. I will credit you when I do.

All payments are non-refundable unless for some reason i am unable to finish your piece, or we get part way through the process and i feel that i am unable to do your character(s) justice.

You MAY:

Post your completed piece wherever you please WITH appropriate credit by either linking my page or simply stating my name and platform.

edit my art in regards to cropping for profile pictures, adding an overlay to fit a theme, and resizing to fit a platform better

You may NOT:

feed my hard work to ai

use it for anything NFT related

claim it as your own

remove my watermarks

use it commercially

What is the process?

It's pretty simple! Send me a dm with a photo of your character(s) and tell me what you'd like. Let me know if you need a few days to get the money, or if there's a time constraint (like if the piece is a birthday or holiday gift). If you don't have an idea for a pose, please include a brief description of their personality. If there's characters interacting, let me know their relationship to one another and their dynamic.

I will respond with a price and if you're ok with proceeding I will mock up a vague sketch so you can get an idea of what it would look like. This will be watermarked and it will not even be very recognizable as your character. That's because I have been scammed and ghosted in the past, even with a very rough and watermarked sketch.

After that you will send 100% of the payment in order for me to proceed. Do not send payment via friends and family. I don't want to be banned from paypal lol

I work on a first come first serve basis, but i may work on a piece while waiting for approval on another. I will let you know if there is someone ahead of you. Once payment is received i will message you frequently with updates and for approval. Once lineart is finalized, i will update less often in order to creater a better final reveal. Your final piece will already be glazed to fight against ai stealing my style.

Depending on my life circumstances, this whole process could take from 1-3 days up to a month. The later is very unlikely, and i will message you with updates if i feel i am taking too long.

Examples of my work:

These are simply commissions that ive done in the past! I have many more examples of personal art on my blog

top to bottom: Bunyo and Sasha who belong to @/ilikecorndogs, Honey who belongs to to @/mei, and Solace who belongs to @/sundryd

[garaviel]

Some people are so weird seriously or maybe its just me idk

I bought a thing on poshmark. Didnt ship the first week. Contacted seller who said they were sick and would ship by friday the next week so i was like cool ok ill keep an eye on it

Poshmark contacted me and said they couldnt get ahold of the seller themselves and i could cancel for a full refund. I contacted them and explained the situation and asked them if i would still be able to get the refund if i waited till the last day of the 2nd week and they responded with generic crap that told me they didnt actually read my question. Cool ok ill figure it out

The last day the seller was supposed to ship the thing came and i just canceled the dang order before the end of the day bc it was too expensive to fuck around with anymore

Then the fucking seller contacts me 2 days later saying they had planned to ship it the last day but were in the hospital with pneumonia. Wanted to know if i still want it but. Like bud you could have responded to the site youre selling your shit on too. This is way too much money (700$ that i saved up for) for me to just leave in limbo while you can respond to me but not the site which makes me think youre fucking with me somehow

If anyone reads this am i overreacting by not giving them more time? Im deleting this later but??

[dropsofmoonlightzine]

Happy Holidays everyone!

We hope you are doing well! First, thank you so much for your continued support of the Drops of Moonlight Zine Charity Project. Although the project has gone on for much longer than planned due to multiple hiccups that we have faced, we are still committed to have the physical and digital bundles distributed to those who have pre-ordered them. Once the hiccups listed below are resolved, we will be reaching out to those (contributors and supporters) who pre-ordered a bundle to collect shipping and handling, and ship everything out! With that, included below is a summary list of previous updates re: the current Murphy's Law poo that is holding the project up:

We're still missing 2/5th of the shipment of the printed volume. Production had been in delay because of the paper crisis and they arrived in increments slowly batch by batch. We bought from a small family-run vendor and they glue the covers by hand. We've been getting them in smaller batches, and two batches have yet to arrive. They don't ever update us re:status, but they have been consistent.

Our sticker order was lost in the mail. We're fighting with FedEx on whose fault this is. We have had to pay double customs to have it re-enter its country of origin and make the trip again, which is ongoing, and are trying to get reimbursed by FedEx, which is a lengthy process.

The coloring books arrived late and with faulty covers, and after much discussion with the company, it appears that the fault was entirely our own. One of our mods is paying for 400 new covers out of their own pocket and will fix them by hand.

Our local washi vendor pulled out and went bankrupt and radio silent. This was a huge problem both for budget and for getting a new one. We have one finally lined up, production has begun.

Booth has refunded part of our orders because it took too long, meaning our funds have further shrunk. We're in talks with Booth to save the rest. It's in Japanese so only one mod could handle it, and this is not the easiest.

The domain for our website was paid for two years and that was the time and funding allotted in the budget. These two years are up. We didn't notice that for the longest while, and then when we did, things like Booth happened, and we decided against renewing the domain so late in the game. We plan to ship the orders with Shopify and the portion of Booth orders that have not yet been refunded.

A few mods we won't name are on extended hiatus for critical life events that we won't call out for privacy, and because this project has gone on for much longer than anyone on the team has anticipated or consented to/planned for. This means the rest of the work is falling on fewer shoulders. Tasks and responsibilities have subsequently changed amongst the mod team since 2020; for instance, we don't have a mod in charge of communications right now and haven't had one in a while, which you do clearly notice.

We make all decisions together as a team, which makes us democratic and also slow. We react to things only together but it means we wait out mod meetings across four time zones for nodding off on all decisions.

Everything else is ready, layouted, translated, linked to, hosted online, printed, lined up, and arrived. Once everything else lines up/arrives, we will be reaching out to those who pre-ordered a physical bundle to collect shipping and handling, and then ship them out.

We realize that the timing of everything has not been ideal. We did not realize we bit off more than we could chew when we took this project on… and none of us Mods plan to take on anything like this ever again as all of us are doing this on our own time. We thank you for your continued support and wish you all a safe holiday season!

Love,

The Drops of Moonlight Zine Mod Team

Happy Holidays!

皆さまお元気でお過ごしでしょうか。まず初めに、いつも「月の雫」チャリティー・プロジェクトをご支援いただきありがとうございます。このプロジェクトは、さまざまな不運が重なったことにより予定よりかなり長引いていますが、ご予約いただいた皆様に、ZINEバンドルとデジタルバンドルをお届けすることをお約束します。下記の問題が解決した時点で、バンドル版を予約してくださった方々（寄稿者の皆さま、サポーターの方々）に連絡を取りZINEたちを発送する予定です。下記に記すのはこれまでこのプロジェクトの妨げとなってしまったことがらに関する過去のアップデートの要約です：

印刷会社より全量の2/5の出荷を未だ受け取っていません。製紙危機のために生産が遅れ、製本されたZINEが少量ずつ到着しています。今回購入したのは家族経営の小さな印刷会社で、彼らは手作業で表紙を糊付けしています。ZINEは少量のロットで納品されており、あと2つのバッチの到着を待っている状況です。

付録のシールで完成品の紛失がありました。国際輸送中に行方がわからなくなってしまったため、現在輸送会社のFedexと責任の所在を明らかにしようとしています。原��国から再度入国させるために関税を二重に支払う必要があり予算にも影響を与えるものでしたが、皆さまへ発送するためこれらの対応は現在も進行中です。

塗り絵の納品が遅れ、また表紙に欠陥がありました。印刷会社と確認した結果、どうやら私たちの責任であることが判明したため、モデレーターのひとりが、自腹で400冊分の新しい表紙を購入し、手作業で表紙を付け直している最中です。

マスキングテープを発注した地元の業者は倒産し、音信不通となりました。新しい業者に再発注する必要があり予算的にも大きな問題でしたが、ようやく1社が決まり、生産が始まりました。

発送まで期間が空きすぎたため、BOOTHで注文の一部がキャンセルとなりました。予約してくださった皆さまには申し訳ありませんでした。まだ残っている注文に関してはキャンセル期限延長をBOOTHと交渉中です。日本語対応可能なモデレーターがひとりで対応にあたっています。

私たちのウェブサイトはドメイン料が2年間支払われており、それが予算上割り当てられた時間と資金でしたが、この2年間が終了しました。そのことに長い間気づかず、気づいたときにはブースのようなことが起きていて、ドメインの更新はすべきではないと判断しました。Shopifyでの注文と、Boothでの注文のうちまだ返金されていない分については必ず発送する予定です。

このプロジェクトは、主催チームの誰もが予想し、同意し、計画したよりもはるかに長く続いています。モデレーターの何人かは私生活での緊急を要する事態によりプロジェクトを離れる必要があり、残りの仕事は少ない肩の上に乗っています。例えば、しばらくコミュニケーション担当のモデレーターが不在であることにお気づきの方も多いと思います。

私たちはチームとしてすべての決定を下すので、民主的であると同時に時間が掛かります。私たちは共に物事に対処しますが、それは4つのタイムゾーンにまたがって主催ミーティングを開催し、すべての決定でそれぞれが同意する必要があることを意味しています。

それ以外のすべてについては、準備を進め、レイアウトし、翻訳し、リンクを貼り、オンラインでホストし、印刷し、並べ、到着しています。すべての材料が揃い／到着し次第、ZINEバンドルを予約注文してくれた人たちに連絡を取り順次発送していく予定です。

すべてが理想的なタイミングではなかったことはもちろん承知しています。このプロジェクトを発足したとき、自分たちが扱い切れる以上のものを発案したことに気づいていませんでした。皆さまにはご心配をお掛けし本当に申し訳なく思っています。皆さまの変わらぬご支援に、心から、感謝いたします。

愛をこめて、

月の雫ZINE　主催チーム

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Redacted Incorrect Quotes Pt. ?

Haha you really thought my lazy ass was gonna work on WIPs? Nah. Have some redacted incorrect quotes based on tweets I saw, either on the app or screenshots of.

No I don’t care if the dashes are uneven.

Redacted Masterlist

----

Angel: *Flirting poorly with Davey at the grocery store* Hey so do you eat food often?

----

Sweetheart: Curious George is not a monkey because he has no tail. He is an ape. He will grow into a silverback gorilla and kill the man with the yellow hat in a display of dominance.

Milo: I’m literally just trying to read to Aggro.

-----

Milo: I love when kittens yell, but their heads are too big so they squint.

----

Guy: Roommate broke up with boyfriend that cooks for us. Excuse me while I go die.

----

Angel: In 1920 we took children out of the coal mine. In 2020 the most popular game on the market is minecraft. 

Baabe: Children yearn for mines.

-----

*3 AM*

No one:

LITERALLY no one:

Asher, in wolf form: I wonder if I can break the record with how loud I can lick my paw.

-----

Darlin: If civilization crumbles, I have a little flashlight in a drawer somewhere.

---

Sweetheart: Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” is about friends practicing magic but when someone walks in they have to play it cool.

Milo: No. It isn’t.

Sweetheart: *starts singing* The moon is bright, the spirits up. We’re here tonight, and that’s enough. *whispers* This is the part where someone comes in. *Continues pointedly* Simply having a wonderful christmastime!

----

Angel: My husband gives people a thumbs down instead of flicking them off when driving. He reports that a thumbs down makes them a lot more angry.

----

Adam: I would be such a good “dead wife”. Like, can you imagine how good I would look in a dead wife flashback sequence? Someone make me their “dead wife.

----

David: As a kid I thought Simba was crazy for running away after the death of Mufasa. But now watching it as an adult, I get it. It did look pretty incriminating of him leading Mufasa to that gorge. Witnesses saw him singing “I just can’t wait to be king.” A persecutor could do some real damage with that conviction.

----

Honey: I don’t like the saying “don’t speak ill of the dead”. It always struck me as disingenuous. People are multi-layered. Yes, I did light up a room. But I also stole my roommate’s milk to make mac and cheese blackout hammered. Let’s acknowledge both sides.

----

David, giving a pep talk to the pack: For anyone feeling down, just remember Velveeta cheese has been on the market since 1918. If trash cheese can succeed, so can you. And for anyone who likes Velveeta cheese, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you like trash cheese.

----

Angel: Lying awake thinking about the time I ordered a giant magikarp plush from Japan but then got refunded because the plushie got crushed under a shipping container.

----

Asher, and maybe Guy too: I’m here if you need moron support. It’s like moral support but I’m stupid.

-----

David: If I have to throw a party for my pack, it will be breakfast. Not lunch. Not dinner. It will start at 8:30 am so there is a valid reason for no one to come and I can kick them out before noon because I only promised breakfast, not lunch. The introverts will win even if it kills me.

----

Milo and Ollie: My cat has no responsibilities, but all day he walks from around the house, from room to room, with this sense of purpose, as if he has a long to-do list of tasks no one asked for. Just a weird small furry dude going about his little cat errands.

----

Freelancer: Aww my microbiome fancies some high quality fermented foods, does it? A little kombucha perhaps? I don’t give a shit. I’m a megabiome, I do what I want. I’m having a fanta lemon. I’ll swallow coins.

-----

Lovely: I would be an awesome drug dealer. Like, can you imagine? *giggles* We don’t have coke, is pepsi okay?

-----

Freelancer: Math professors be wildin like “a man tossed a coin, find the probability of him getting a head?” BRO WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU GOT A H-

Huxley: I wanna reply back same to my data analytics professor so badly!!

------

David, at the pack solstice parties: I, myself, am understaffed at this time.

----

Milo with Marie watching Aggro for him:

-----

Asher: Fuck your zodiac sign, what button do you press when it says “press any button to start”

[corvidszines]

ALL THAT FEARS: An Entity Swap Zine

IMPORTANT UPDATE regarding physical orders.

We appreciate the patience that everybody has exhibited for us in this very long time period for shipping the All That Fears zine & merchandise.

This is our current status update for the project:

As of right now, our shipping moderator has abandoned us and the project. All of the unshipped merchandise and books currently reside with them. After countless promises to send them out, we have lost hope. We held out for a while in hopes we would not have to rebuy, but a team of four have been actively trying to contact this moderator, and while we get occasional responses, they are uncooperative. This is not the only project they have abandoned either, as we've heard from a member of our shipping team that this is something that the same moderator has done to another zine.

We sincerely apologize for this extended delay.

The head mod team of ATF will have to repurchase all books and merchandise. This will be at no additional cost to anybody who has already made their purchase and is waiting for their order. While the moderating team is doing everything we can to pay for this out-of-pocket, this is not entirely possible. So, we will be reopening digital sales until December 31st, at the original price of $10, to help cover the costs of repurchasing.

If you have purchased and are yet to receive your zine, please keep an eye on your email for important updates, or email us to request a refund if you are no longer interested in your order.

Once we have the new books and merch with our new shipping moderator, we will post new photos of the products and resend out the address change form.

As always, please email or DM us if you have any questions or concerns.

Thank you for your support through this time. We are doing absolutely everything we can to put this product into your hands.

[faolonfiendrender]

Piracy is easy money, you just find a poorly guarded shipping channel between some imperial power, and some colony that produces either high value mineral wealth or high value cash crops, wait there with your boat (don't worry about food or water, I'm sure we can handle these problems as they come up) or even better, wait on an island the ship comes near. Attack the ship, but make clear that you aren't necessarily wanting to kill them, you just want a bunch of cargo, and we can do this without shots fired if they just let you on board to take what you need.

After doing this a bunch and not spending the money you get from smuggling a few dozen barrels of sugar or tea at market rates minus the king's tariffs or selling off plantations at cut rates to people those in power don't want to own shit because you stole the deeds, and as such the means to modify ownership from some bastard passenger who tried to threaten you. He deserved it, he owned a plantation.

But suddenly you start seeing that your unguarded sea lane is guarded and apparently that bastard was an actual bastard of some noble and now your friendly port is no longer so friendly because some spoiled guy who's grandfathers grandfathers great grandfather was a gallant variety of mass murderer known as a knight raised a big stink about his bastard being deprived of his property and the guy you sold it too is mad and won't take barrels of brown sugar as refund.

And to make matters worse, it seems the bastard held a grudge as two guys you know are sellswords have been following you now that you've fled to a freeport. And one day they find you in an alley, and you only survive because you know the trick to throw a knife on point and the other guy's sword gets caught in his sheath allowing you to smack him in the face with your empty pistol. In response to your shouting for explanation the guy who now has a black eye says that a bastard payed them to kill you.

So now of course you are here to kill the next time you go pirating, but the bastard ain't even in his plantation, so you have now killed the supervisors and guards and people are looking at you like you had a plan besides killing the overfancy prick who ruined your life. And apparently this plantation runners didn't speak your language and neither do all these people who didn't join the fight because it wasn't theirs, just happening near them.

So, you find one of them that does speak your language, and you ask them to help you with that galleon your crow's nest spotted 20 minutes ago on the other side of the bay.

So of course, you all slip across in dinghies without the ability to see because the lot of you can't risk the light. And while everything is so dark, you hear commotion on the galley, and then shots and cursing, but they don't seem to be shooting at you so you keep going.

When you get there, some guys in fancy uniforms are hanging in nooses from the mast, and one of the sailors spots you and asks to parley. Apparently the captain was from the imperial power, and the crew were from one of the older colonies, and their favorite singer was singing a good old song that they loved, but the captain didn't like not knowing what was sung, so the song mocking his nation's cruelty to them was swapped to his language. The captain shot him, and the crew decided that he wasn't fit, and he wouldn't step down so the mutiny turned lethal.

So you, and your new friends realize that you have no good place to go, and neither does the galley, so the lot of you propose that you all just hope that this tiny island is overlooked and you can all live hear. After all, if it can grow sugar, it can grow grains, and besides you can just steal from passing merchant ships.

And things are good until the bastard arrives with a small army because he hasn't heard from his plantation. So, the galley and your ship, both anchored at opposite sides of the mouth of the bay to act as fortresses of sort shoot down a bunch of his ships.

Not enough though, as a ship of bastard soldiers get through. and your friends on the land are damn good at their fighting, but you had neglected munitions for those on the land because the ships are more important so your people flee to the jungle.

You meet them there. Some were captured. You spy on the old plantation and see gallows are being built. You come up with a plan.

Night falls, and the patrols thin. With knives and infantry sabers and shovels and sickles glinting in the dark, your people sneak with the prowess of a master hunter, the prey being men in gaudy uniforms with rifles and large swords. Mercenaries.

They didn't bother to make the powderhouse a different building than it was six months ago when you freed these people on accident. You steal away with their munitions, their powder, their bullets, their muskets and rifles and blunderbii. Your people are armed. A gun and ten shots and a blade to every man, and several women.

Just before the watch should change, you attack. You bring your best men as your guard. One is a mutineer, big burly man with arms thicker than some people's legs, best with a rapier of all things, though you can believe it those things were always heavy in your hand compared to the pistols and knives you preferred. Another is the man you would have made your first mate if he had let you, instead he's simply the senior deckhand with extra shares, and he likes those old swords that knights used. Finally is a woman who came forward from the former slaves, give her a sickle or machete or cutlass and she can beat five men thrice her size without even using the sharp edge. And of course you brought your club and your pistols and your knife, swords always felt heavy to you.

everyone else catches the soldiers in their barracks, formerly the huts your people had improved or built over your time there. You go to the manor house. You oddly find no guards, but you find the bastard, awake, with a crazed look in his eyes.

He simply says of course it was you before leveling some strange contrivance that looks like someone shoved a pan flute with three pipes through a pistol. It is a gun, he shoots each of your friends before the pipes fall out of his pistol and your friends fall groaning to the ground. He draws the sabre at his side, you draw a pistol. you manage to draw and fire twice. The first time, you hit his sword's basket at an odd angle, leading the bullet to ricochet. The second gun grazes him.

He is on you. You can barely draw your knife in time to make his sabre fall away as you backpedal. by the next swing in range, you have your club. It is back and forth, him swinging at your head then switching low to gut you, you managing to catch his blade on your knife and bringing your club down at him before he steps back and immediately reengages. It is clear he is trying to lure you into a pattern so that he can set up an opening to strike. You try to punish him each time. It is clear the blows from your club and light cuts from your knife are slowing him.

Eventually you see an opening, he stepped back and rose his blade in anticipation of you striking at his head. You lunge forward with your knife. You were wrong. The cutlass mercifully only catches your shoulder with the weak of the blade, so the arm is still there, but you are bleeding heavily. He is too. Your dagger made it into his gut.

In your panic you managed to grab his sabre hand, though you dropped your club in the process. You grapple with the saber while he grapples to keep you from using your knife more. He lets go of the knife to claw at your shoulder. You manage to stab again, this time getting under his ribs. You hear his sword clatter to the ground.

Blood is smeared in your face as he tries to claw at it, blood is smeared on your hand as you stab him again with what mobility you can get. You keep stabbing as he starts trying to beat the back of your head, but mostly hitting your shoulders.

Your third pistol, slung on your chest, pressed uncomfortably between you two. You feel movement, quick movement, on it. and heat, like someone laid a hot iron bar between the both of you. and then you hear the bang and the feel the pain shoot through your pectoral muscle and feel the hand beating you go limp.

As you roll off of the bastard, you see that there is a hole in the underside of his chin, and the side of your chest opposite your injured shoulder has a gash in it, with your pistol pointing up said gash towards where his head was. As the adrenaline fades, so does both your ability to feel pain, and your vision.

The last thing you see is a large group bursting through the door, you note with pride that they are wearing plain clothes, not the ostentatiousness of those mercenaries.

You are still unsure if you died and this is the hereafter, or if you lived. Your old mate died, but the other two lived, though neither of them will be the same. Nor will you. both arms hurt to move fast or lift much, a scar runs up from your sternum to your right shoulder, one matches along your left shoulder blade. You know your little land of those who wish to be free won't stay relatively unnoticed after that, but by god, you lived.

[madmaryholiday]

work actually managed to be worse than i expected.

they did actually dismantle the electronics department, and all the stuff waiting to be processed was unceremoniously dumped into boxes to be posted by whoever.

carts were waiting at people's stations in the morning, which at least meant nobody had to wait right away, but the amount of extra work it requires means i fully expect that to fall apart immediately. carts were wildly different, with some having very few items and some being packed with like 30+ cub boxes.

i also saw someone moving jewelry totes (the big plastic boxes full of jewelry that they zip-tie closed so people don't steal shit before it gets to the locked jewelry department) being moved into the main processing area, so it appears that they might also be processing jewelry there now, too.

no idea what that means for the people who were previously processing jewelry behind a locked door because management didn't want people stealing shit.

they're also apparently not testing anything except stuff they need to reformat, so the onus to test electric/electronic items is on the listers. nevermind that the reason processing started testing everything in the first place was to reduce the number of refunds we had to give to angry customers.

jane and james no longer get to process their own stuff, either. james said at least one of the lots of mixed-genre records he got was over the weight limit shipping gave him for lots, so he split it in half to make them shippable. (previously, he sorted records into lots by genre so that people who liked one particular genre would want to pay more for a lot, but fuck that, i guess.)

i told him that next time, he should just do the lot as given to him and let shipping kick it back for a refund. we can't be breaking our backs trying to compensate for shitty policy changes.

guys i'm so fucking tired.

i've been prepping my parents for the possibility that i might actually quit my job, and while i REALLY don't want to quit, it might actually be happening soon. depends on how much worse things in general get and how offensive management's treatment of us gets. i'm still hoping to be fired instead, but if they're not even paying enough attention to us to know that my numbers have been in the toilet for the last year, idk if they'll care enough to fire me for it.

we'll see, i guess.

[emilieautumnarchives]

Missing Orders Shipping, and the Secret’s Almost Out…

Posted: August 2, 2006 Archived from BonnyTymePyrate’s Journal Archives

My Dearest Marzipan Cream Buns,

This is to let you all know that we are finally seeing all of the past robbery-delayed orders out the door by the end of this week!

We’ve got the Traitor Girls working like mad to get everything together, and we’re counting on you to let us know if your order wasn’t received starting the end of NEXT week (give it time to ship!) so that we can give you a refund and our heartfelt apologies - there are still some lost databases, so I won’t be surprised if we miss a few orders, therefore please be patient with us (we know you have been already) and let us know if you’ve not gotten your order by e-mailing [email redacted].

Of course, we will happily issue refunds to anyone who is sick of the whole debacle, and I can promise you that, within a week, an announcement will be made that will insure that this horrible situation never ever happens again…wait for it, trust me;)

Also, I would like to make a massive request of you all!!!

As I’m sure you know, the muffin database was on the computers that were stolen from the studio, so in preparation for some very VERY big news I have to whisper into your dear little ears, I would like to ask you to please RE-sign up for the Deadly EA Mailing List here:

[Mailing List Signup]

And do visit again tomorrow for pix from ComicCon where I did an interview for Japanese TV and was thought to have super powers!!

I think I’ll sleep for a very short while…it’s only morning…

With Love & Bloody Crumpets from the Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls,

EA

[aikouncoloured]

To start off this page here are my dolls. I collect them because I can and because I love the way they look and the vibe they give off. I obviously don't have favourites... off topic my favourite flowers are roses... anyway, so the names, I'm not the greatest at naming things or people so I obviously panicked a little at first when getting each doll, however Rose came with her name written on a little label so I did not have to figure out her name, her full name is Rosaline btw. When I get my dolls I don't want to just gIvE them names because that seems a little. disrespectful because they're vintage so surely they have their own names so I just kind of don't name them until I get the overwhelming vibe of the name, the longest I've had to wait for the name to get put in my brain is 2 days with Angelica, the other two just instantly came to me. I bought Rose first, she was my first ever porcelain doll, I'm not sure why I decided to look on Ebay for dolls but I just did, I found her pretty fast for £13 (including shipping) and when she came my mother wasn't impressed and I LOVE HER. Then came Jane, I didn't actually buy her, my landlady who loves my vibe and room found her at a charity shop and asked if she should buy her for me and ofc I said YES. She actually gave me Jane for complete free even after I gave her money. My mother likes Jane because she thinks she's pretty and small, which I agree she is very pretty and her clothes are lovely. Next came Vivianne, she was a bit of a hard decision, you see I have a charity shop near me and for a week straight I went to that charity shop everyday and every time I saw these two dolls in a glass case there and every time I had the URGE to buy one, at some point I gave up and went to the charity shop and bought Vivianne for a small amount of £3.50, insanity. And then there's Angelica, now you see during my entire porcelain doll experience I've always admired the dolls in bridal wear that came up on my Ebay, of course I never considered actually buying one since they're always expensive because... it's bridal wear, but on this particular day I had an overwhelming need to look on Ebay for a doll and I found HER. As soon as I saw her I just knew I needed her. She was priced at £10.50 and £5.99 shopping, which is quite an amount but for a bridal wear doll in such condition I was WILLING to buy her. I placed a bid and prayed to my spiritual guardian that no one outbids me since I'm a broke collector so I would probably cry, but then my mother gave me a reality check saying, literally who else is gonna want to buy a doll other than you. Then an interesting thing happened, first off all when she first came to my door I got a BIG cut somehow and bled a lot but not on her dw, not the weirdest thing since I'm clumsy but noteworthy possibly. Anyway, while I was putting her on my wall in her box I realised her foot /shoe was broken and the pieces that were broken off were in a sperate bubble wrap bag, I thought this was odd since it wasn't on the Ebay listing, I wrote to the seller telling her that I don't want to return her (cause I fell in love) but that I would've liked some kind of notice of this on the listing, I didn't expect a refund i was merely notifying the seller of this to which this lovely woman said she'd give me a refund, so Angelica was only £5.99 (cause shipping) and I have now fixed her foot dw. THAT IS MY DOLL STORY. Thank you for listening. You're very welcome. Good day to you.

[the dolls names are on the ALT text of the pictures so you don't get confused]

[mikimeiko]

Sardinia - Day 1 - to Livorno and the ferry!!!

Of course I got a cold and spent all the Christmas days quite sick. The last thing I want right now is to leave for one of my crazy train trips XD but too much non refundable money has been spent, and so to Sardinia we go! (Well, to Tuscany today, but I will wake up near the Sardinian coast :D)

I waited so long for the bus to the train station that I almost missed my first train. Luckily the train was a couple of minutes late XD

It's not the best weather to travel (of course all those days I spent sicklishly cooped up inside my house wear perfect sunny days) but at least it's not raining.

Through Lombardy...

... Piedmont...

... Liguria...

...and Tuscany.

I saw an almost full moon rising from behind the mountains, all yellow and big.

Livorno seems ok, though it's hard to get an idea of a city when it's dark - the soft, yellow lights make the things they light look the same and the things they don't light disappear.

This disquieting heatwave we've been having for the past week (15°? In December?!) makes walking around even in the dark less gruelling that it would have been in proper winter temperatures.

I went to the port a little early because I didn't really have anything else to do... and good thing I did, because it turned out my ferry actually left from a different, farther port D: I'm an idiot for not checking better, and now I'm 20 euros poorer for a taxi fare I probably could have avoided, but I AM GETTING ON THE FERRY so everything is fine.

This is the first time that I found escalators in a ship! And... there was actually only one escalator. Then there were only stairs. LIARS.

I have a very nice cabin!

The ship looked very big while I was getting to my cabin, but most of it is dedicated to sleeping quarters: the areas I can explore are few and very crowded, so I retreat outside in the pool/bar area (currently closed for winter, but there are tables and benches and a lot less people).

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Dear diary,

Like how I consider pink and pastels to be my favorite colors if asked by strangers~

Tho while do like them, if its baby blue clothes I so can't help wanting them~

Like blush pink too but it doesn't always look great on me~

To those who voted in poll, thank you. I appreciate the response. I feel like schoolgirl is what I am most comfortable in, like plaids and it's the most conservative. The cream set is totally elegant lady vibes and do like as well. Lastly, always wanted to try dressing more gothic to express the inner melancholy I feel at times or the cliche reference to liking darker stuff~

But I am indecisive so you know, takes forever to decide on stuff and since vast majority voted for gothic aesthetic I am strongly considering it. The thing that's making me hesitate is the shipping for the skirt is estimated delivery dates between 5-7 days or so and the last time I had an extended wait time the item never arrived. I was offered refund but to receive it or to get more tracking info given lost package I'd have to contact customer service which means talking so not an option for me personally~

I mean I could order it and maybe it wouldn't get lost and it would arrive within the dates they gave but I don't know~

I did a few additional sets in workouts today so kinda feel like was productive with goal of trying to lose more weight~

I may not have my goal waistline of 25 inches but I did get down to xs for skirt from Francesca's. So I was happy about that for like a few minutes until the anxiety of if I gain weight might not fit into it and thinking of need to use better self control and resistant to sweets to keep body as is or become hopefully more model like and beautiful~

I looked up movies and there's actually a few I want to see after watching trailers~

Thinking about going, tho when to avoid crowds is the issue since summer so many more people everywhere it seems~

Hot Topic, I visited there and my anxiety was off the charts and I am surprised I wasn't literally shaking cause felt like that internally... why? Because of the people, dressed in ways to indicate if observant enough that reference to certain kinks, and some of the items there I could see as possible use for that as well. I did note some items were reasonably priced and my style so may go back and get them another time~

I worried people might think I was a shoplifter because of how anxious and jittery I was feeling. But no apparently my invisibility must have activated accidentally bumped gently into a group of girl-guys friend group in the store and no one said anything so totally didn't notice me which in some ways was nice~

Then that guy, he was older and attractive but I was so nervous and hope didn't make him uncomfortable since he moved out of section that was glancing around at~

I felt so much better after I got out of store and then visited one of my favorites. I was sad to hear they were closing location but it made for some super great deals. Oversized sweater dress~ like I need more oversized stuff but super soft and cheap price couldn't resist~

Then a cute mini skirt and blue rose babydoll dress. I probably wouldn't have gotten them if not for the fact low prices and knowing they wouldn't be here later since store would literally be gone....~

I was going to go into Victoria Secret to browse but after that decided I'd had enough with the crowds of girls with their besties, and random cute guys etc~

[danatheelf]

Welcome to my NISA Nightmare.

This is beyond a bloody joke, now, and I am livid.

For almost six whole weeks now, I have been given the runaround by NIS America Europe's Customer Support, for an issue entirely their fault. And it's not the first time.

I love the games NISA publish. I preorder the vast majority of the Collector's Edition packages they put out, in spite of my precarious financial situation. Because I love these games and I want to have those nice sets to celebrate the art and music and game with a nice, generally sensible set of extra stuff that isn't just cheap tat to fill a box and charge a fortune for.

I have maintained "Diamond Prinny" loyalty status for years, which doesn't really mean much more than "buys their stuff a lot and gets offered small discounts when new ones go up" but you'd think if they recognise a group of their biggest customers, they would at least try to offer solid Customer Support for that group.

Here's the backstory: On September 8 2022, I placed a preorder with NISAE for four Collector's Editions. If you're unfamiliar with preorders, how this is supposed to work is that you pay money now, and they put a copy aside to make sure that you get them when they come out; I try to order as many things as I can at once, because shipping to Australia is expensive, and it helps to spread the load. When placing the order, one of the games I was ordering had an option for an Australian cover sheet - the only difference being the little rating symbol on the cover - so I picked that because... hey, why not?

At some point in production, they changed their mind, and decided they wouldn't bother printing that Australian cover sheet. No big deal, you might assume - just swap it for the UK English cover; no big deal.

Ah, sweet summer child, I see you have never had to deal with NISAE's order system backend.

Any other web store on the internet can make simple changes to an order relatively easily - but NISAE is special. They can't even change a tiny little dropdown menu option for which printed cover sheet should be included with the game.

To make any small change to your order, the entire thing must be cancelled. You must wait for a refund to clear. Then you must place the order again yourself with the changes in place.

Remember that thing about how preorders work? Yeah. It doesn't work if they just cancel your order without warning, and tell you to make the order again when something in your order is now out of stock.

For weeks now, I've been assured that they're securing a copy of the game that was out of stock, because I guess when your order is cancelled, they immediately incinerate the copies that should have been set aside for you.

But they'll have it shortly, so I can make the order then!

I've been dreadfully concerned about the other parts of my order going out of stock while I wait for them to find me a copy of the game I preordered. And naturally... that exact thing happened.

I've been keeping an eye on the stock situation and... now another one is completely sold out.

They haven't even fixed the first screw-up, and now this is added on top. It's cartoonish levels of incompetence. I have a heart condition! I can't deal with this kind of constant stress for weeks and weeks!!

If you know me, you'll know I am a very patient person. But this is really my limit. I'm fed up, and genuinely upset.

This isn't the first time I've had trouble with NISAE before, either.

A while back, I received a copy of a collector's edition set with a soundtrack CD - I love soundtrack CDs and they're a major reason I get these versions! But for some reason, one of the discs was just... missing.

Factory error, I suppose. Not much you can do about that.

So I contacted support, and they promised to just pack a replacement in with the next order that would be shipped out; it wouldn't take long for that, so, sounded to me like a perfectly reasonable solution.

Well, my next order from them came... and the next... and the next... and no CD.

After contacting them again, to see what the deal was... they just decided to send it out by itself, and eat the cost of shipping.

Screwed themselves over in that one, really. I was mildly inconvenienced, but it all worked out without too much hassle.

On another occasion, I had a preorder combined with some older items - the order won't ship until everything is ready to go, but it saves you on shipping, so, hey. That's fine.

Between the time of my order and the time it was ready to ship, they moved to a new warehouse. In the process of doing this... they lost the copy of something I ordered that had been set aside. And they had no more left.

Of course.

There was really nothing that could be done, at that point. "Sorry, we lost the very last copy of the thing you ordered." I was very unhappy about this, but... it was at least understandable. Moving to a new warehouse is a massive undertaking, and losing the last copy of some old stock... well, it sucks, but I get it. Exceptional circumstances; things happen.

So it's with this history of excusing mistakes that I am now faced with the latest one. This time, there is no massive warehouse to move; no unusual situation of sending out a replacement for part of a set that was botched by the factory.

I don't think it's unreasonable to expect better than this.

I don't think it's unreasonable to expect the barest minimum features of an online shop to include "swapping a tiny option in an order" and "actually getting the things you paid a couple hundred pounds to preorder six months ago."

I don't think it's unreasonable to expect better from the official European branch of a very prominent publisher, handling a large number of beloved titles that can't be bought elsewhere.

As it stands, if you have the option to buy NISA games from any retailer other than the NISA Europe Online Store, I advise you to choose that other option. I desperately wish this weren't the case, and would prefer to support the publisher directly... but until they get some web developers to implement a functional backend... I truly recommend choosing literally any other option, if you have it.

Maybe if I'm lucky, people will see this and they'll actually do something.