#Invoice Processing company

[itesservices]

Efficient invoice processing is crucial for maintaining timely payments and ensuring vendor satisfaction. Utilizing professional invoice processing services can streamline your financial operations, reduce errors, and enhance your overall business productivity. These services offer automation, accuracy, and reliability, allowing businesses to focus on core activities while ensuring that vendors are paid promptly and accurately. Embrace the benefits of modern invoice processing to improve your company's financial health and vendor relationships. 

[littlebellesmama]

Why Payments Are Always Late in Europe’s Healthcare System

If you’ve ever worked with public hospitals, clinics, pharmacies, or distributors in Europe, you’ve probably asked yourself one simple question: why does it always take so long to get paid? It’s a common frustration. Invoices stretch out for months, reminders go unanswered, and there’s always some excuse. But the reasons behind these delays are more than just bad habits—they’re built into the way…

[fkvjh]

White Blue Simple Freelancer Invoice Poster

White Blue Simple Freelancer Invoice Poster is a clean and stylish invoice template designed for freelancers who value simplicity and professionalism in their billing. With a fresh white and blue color scheme, this template strikes a balance between a modern look and an organized, easy-to-read format.

Buy this

[globosetechnologysolution]

Simplifying OCR Data Collection: A Comprehensive Guide -

Globose Technology Solutions, we are committed to providing state-of-the-art OCR solutions to meet the specific needs of our customers. Contact us today to learn more about how OCR can transform your data collection workflow.

[reasonsforhope]

"As climate disasters strain state budgets, a growing number of lawmakers want fossil fuel companies to pay for damages caused by their greenhouse gas emissions.

Last May [2024], Vermont became the first state to pass a climate Superfund law. The concept is modeled after the 1980 federal Superfund law, which holds companies responsible for the costs of cleaning up their hazardous waste spills. The state-level climate version requires major oil and gas companies to pay for climate-related disaster and adaptation costs, based on their share of global greenhouse gas emissions over the past few decades. Vermont’s law passed after the state experienced torrential flooding in 2023. In December [2024], New York became the second state to pass such a law. 

This year, 11 states, from California to Maine, have introduced their own climate Superfund bills. Momentum is growing even as Vermont and New York’s laws face legal challenges by fossil fuel companies, Republican-led states, and the Trump administration. Lawmakers and climate advocates told Grist that they always expected backlash, given the billions of dollars at stake for the oil and gas industry — but that states have no choice but to find ways to pay the enormous costs of protecting and repairing infrastructure in the face of increasing floods, wildfires, and other disasters.

The opposition “emboldens our fight more,” said Maryland state delegate Adrian Boafo, who represents Prince George’s County and co-sponsored a climate Superfund bill that passed the state legislature in March. “It means that we have to do everything we can in Maryland to protect our citizens, because we can’t rely on the federal government in this moment.” 

While the concept of a climate Superfund has been around for decades, it’s only in recent years that states have begun to seriously consider these laws. In Maryland, federal inaction on climate change and the growing burden of climate change on government budgets have led to a surge of interest, said Boafo. Cities and counties are getting hit with huge unexpected costs from damage to stormwater systems, streets, highways, and other public infrastructure. They’re also struggling to provide immediate disaster relief to residents and to prepare for future climate events. Maryland has faced at least $10 billion to $20 billion in disaster costs between 1980 and 2024, according to a recent state report. Meanwhile, up until now, governments, businesses, and individuals have borne 100 percent of these costs. 

“We realized that these big fossil fuel companies were, frankly, not paying their fair share for the climate crisis that they’ve caused,” Boafo said. 

Recent bills have also been spurred by increased sophistication in attribution science, said Martin Lockman, a climate law fellow at the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law at Columbia University. Researchers are now able to use climate models to link extreme weather events to greenhouse gas emissions from specific companies. The field provides a quantitative way for governments to determine which oil and gas companies should pay for climate damages, and how much. 

Vermont’s law sets up a process for the government to first tally up the costs of climate harms in the state caused by the greenhouse gas emissions of major oil and gas companies between 1995 and 2024. The state will then determine how much of those costs each company is responsible for, invoice them accordingly, and devote the funds to climate infrastructure and resilience projects. New York’s law, by contrast, sets a funding target ahead of time by requiring certain fossil fuel companies to pay a total of $75 billion, or $3 billion per year over 25 years. The amount each company has to pay is proportionate to their share of global greenhouse gas emissions between 2000 and 2024. Both Vermont and New York’s laws apply only to companies that have emitted over 1 billion metric tons of greenhouse gas emissions over their respective covered periods. That would include Exxon Mobil, Shell, and other oil and gas giants.

Maryland’s law is so far the only climate Superfund-related legislation to pass a state legislature this year, although Governor Wes Moore vetoed the measure late on Friday [May 16, 2025]. The original draft of the bill would have required major fossil fuel companies to pay a one-time fee for their historic carbon emissions. But over the course of the legislative session, the bill was amended...

Climate advocates decried the governor’s decision, calling it “an inexplicable reversal of a position that threatens to stymie Maryland’s climate progress for negligible budget savings.” In a joint press release by three environmental groups, Kim Coble, executive director of the Maryland League of Conservation Voters, said, “This veto is not fiscal responsibility, it’s a definitive step in the opposite direction of our climate goals.”

In California, environmental groups are optimistic about the chances of a bill passing this year. This is the second year a climate Superfund bill has been introduced in the state, and the sponsors of the new bill have focused on building a broad coalition of environmental, community, and labor groups around the proposal, said Sabrina Ashjian, project director for the Emmett Institute on Climate Change and the Environment at the UCLA School of Law. This year’s legislation was introduced shortly after the devastating Los Angeles wildfires in January, which could amplify lawmakers’ sense of urgency. The bill has now passed out of each legislative chamber’s environmental committee and is awaiting votes in their respective judiciary committees. If passed, the bill will next move to the full Senate and Assembly for a final vote. 

In the meantime, legislators are keeping a close eye on ongoing legal challenges to Vermont’s and New York’s laws...

Climate experts told Grist that with huge amounts of money and liability at stake, lawsuits from the fossil fuel industry weren’t unexpected. Boafo said that given how much financial and political support the Trump campaign received from oil and gas corporations, it’s not a surprise that the Justice Department has sued New York and Vermont. Pursuing these laws invites inevitable opposition — but avoiding the growing costs of climate devastation is even riskier, advocates said. 

Lawmakers are “passing these bills because in writing budgets, in dealing with the day-to-day operation of their states, they’re facing really serious questions about how our society is going to allocate the harms of climate change,” said Lockman. “I suspect that the lawmakers who are advocating for these bills are in it for the long haul.”"

-via Grist, May 19, 2025

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [1]

Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution

Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"If you're just going to hide in the corner and not even attempt to attract potential clients, then make yourself useful and collect my new hair accessories from this shop," commanded Iseul, one of the more senior courtesans, as she handed you an invoice listing her orders for specific designs.

Rather than protesting or attempting to evade the task as she had anticipated, you enthusiastically agreed, "Of course, unnie!" before taking the document from her and dashing out of the brothel.

"Thank heavens. Anything to escape that dreadful place," you whispered to yourself, clutching the parchment close to your chest. You were relieved to be away from the hellhole that was supposed to be your new home, even if only for a bit.

Instead of keeping an eye out for the shop whose name and address were stated on the invoice, all you could concentrate on was the sight of ordinary people living their lives freely. You remembered once dreading the idea of having to marry out of obligation once you reached a certain age, but now you would gladly choose that life over this one. At least then, you would only belong to one man instead of any man willing to pay for your company or... services now.

Had you known a week ago how drastically your life would change, you would have run away from home much sooner. You should have done it earlier, if only it weren't for your tender, foolish heart that still felt sorry for your deadbeat father. He had done nothing but drink and gamble away all the money you earned from washing dishes at a nearby food stall. And all of that just for him to sell you off to a brothel when he realised he had no money left to pay off his debts.

A week before today, he stumbled home reeking of alcohol and vomit after being gone all night. He moved to drag you to your feet while you were tidying up the shabby little home you had grown up in, his tight grasp tearing a hole in the thin, worn hanbok clinging to your frail frame. You struggled against his hold, crying out, "What in god's name are you doing, father?! Let me go!"

Confused about his intentions, as he typically treated you as if you were invisible and only approached you when he needed money, you received no response. He dragged you toward the entrance and threw you out, causing you to land roughly on the ground.

As you gazed at the expensive fabric before you, you looked up to see a well-dressed woman with heavy makeup smirking down at you, "You'll do just fine. Thank you, Mr. Han. We accept your payment. I hope you're comfortable with never seeing her again, unless you decide to pay the Mansion of Midnight a visit, of course."

Your heart stopped in recognition of the name. The Mansion of Midnight—the notorious brothel that had haunted your nightmares since you were old enough to understand its existence.

You couldn't believe it.

Refused to believe it.

How could your father do this to you? How could he sell his own daughter to such a place just to pay off his debts?

Anger and disbelief surged within you as you struggled to process the enormity of his betrayal. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought against the overwhelming sense abandonment. Clutching the torn fabric of your hanbok, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair. This wasn't the life you had imagined for yourself, and yet here you were, thrust into a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

Turning to look at him, you knew all hope was gone when you found him waving his hand dismissively in response to the woman you now recognised as the brothel madam, "Whatever, so long as this means my debts are cleared. Just take her and go."

His callous words pierced through you like a knife, confirming what you had feared deep down. There would be no rescue, no redemption in his eyes. He was willing to sacrifice you without a second thought, all for the sake of his own selfish reasons.

Disgust and rage bubbled up inside you as you stared at him, unable to comprehend how a father could abandon his own flesh and blood in such a manner. The man you once hoped would someday change for the better was now nothing more than a heartless stranger.

I guess I'm the fool for staying.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, silently vowing to never forgive him for his betrayal. In that moment, you knew you were alone in this world, left to fend for yourself in a cruel and unforgiving reality. But despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to give up hope. You would find a way to survive, to reclaim your dignity and freedom.

Now, trapped in this place, you cursed yourself for even pitying him when you should have abandoned him, just like your mother did when you were merely a child. She left him for someone who could offer her a better life, one with no room for you. She left you with this sorry excuse of a man. Sometimes, you wonder why they bothered bringing you into this world in the first place, just for you to endure a life filled with so much unhappiness.

Lost in thought and unaware of your surroundings, a startled gasp escaped your lips as your shoulder bumped into another man's, causing the parchment in your hand to slip to the ground along with a few items belonging to him, "Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry! I should have been more attentive. Here, let me help you gather your belongings," you apologised hastily, scrambling to collect his things while he did the same. Your movements paused when he accidentally grabbed your hand as you both reached for the same item.

"It's fine, my lady. Let me take care of it—"

As you lifted your heads to meet each other's gaze, your breath caught in your throat upon making eye contact. While you internally chuckled with a mixture of disbelief and sadness, realising how romantic this first encounter with this good-looking stranger could have potentially been if only you were an ordinary girl, he was too captivated by your beauty to utter a word.

So beautiful.

As Wooyoung took in the stunning lady before him, his heart skipped a beat. After encountering a woman as beautiful as Lady Park, he had almost resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn't find anyone more gorgeous. Yet, today, he found hope as he marvelled at you.

Judging from your initial reaction upon bumping into him, you were clearly not some rich little spoiled brat. There was a genuineness about you, a humility that spoke volumes to him.

Now, he just had to put his investigator skills to good use; find out who you were, which house you hailed from, and whether you were betrothed to another. If all went according to plan, he envisioned courting you, and perhaps, finally experiencing what it was like to have the kind of connection General Park and his wife shared—a love that transcended time and circumstance.

With determination in his heart, Wooyoung made a mental note to uncover the identity of this intriguing woman. You were a rare gem amidst the chaos of this world, and he was determined to unravel the mystery surrounding you.

As his gaze lingered on you, self-consciousness crept in. What if he was seeing through your identity? What if he knew the kind of job you were meant to be doing? The thought made you uneasy. Was that why he couldn't take his eyes off you? Perhaps it was his first time seeing a courtesan up close?

He could be disgusted for all you knew.

Blinking rapidly, you pulled your hand away and hurriedly stood up. Without giving him another chance to speak, you bowed deeply and politely excused yourself. You could still feel his intense stare burning into your back as you ran off, eager to get away from him for fear of his potential reaction when he realised what you were.

Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you struggled to focus on finding the damn shop you were meant to visit. Your heart felt heavy with hopelessness, knowing that thanks to your father, your life would never be the same. It was ruined now, irreversibly altered by his selfish actions.

Even if you were to somehow make your escape from this nightmare, your reputation would forever be tainted by this part of your history. There was no way you'd be able to hide the truth from anyone—the truth that you were once a courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight. The thought filled you with despair. No one would ever be able to accept you, nobody decent ever would.

Each step felt like a burden as you trudged along the unfamiliar streets. The world seemed bleak and unforgiving, with no glimmer of hope on the horizon. You felt utterly alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to confide in.

Help. Somebody, please help me.

Watching the mysterious, beautiful stranger he had encountered run off in the opposite direction, the investigator felt his heart pound in his chest. He tried to commit the image of your angelic features to memory, already excited to learn more about you.

For once, after completing his last assignment at the general's estate, he felt a glimmer of hope. Seonghwa had dismissed not only him but also Yunho and Hongjoong as soon as his grand wedding ceremony in the palace ended, expressing his desire for some alone time with his beloved wife. It seemed like everyone was moving on with their lives; the last Wooyoung had heard, the physician had returned to his clinic, and the dressmaker had resumed operations at his shop, both happy to grant the couple their much-needed honeymoon.

Except for him.

He had missed the thrill of working for the great General Park. While he loved his job, no other cases could ever compare to the adrenaline rush of working for his role model. Besides, that wasn't the only perk; he also had the opportunity to see the beautiful Lady Park nearly every day. He had been feeling bored, merely going through the motions with his current case until now.

His passion for investigating was reignited.

Screw his current case; it wasn't that important anyway. He had been hired by some wealthy old noblewoman to investigate whether her husband was cheating on her. It was while he was tailing the sleazy old man that he found himself in this part of town. But it looked like his new employer's case would have to take a back seat for now. Perhaps he should thank the old couple; otherwise, he wouldn't have stumbled upon his new dream girl today.

Yes, his new dream girl, because until just moments ago, that position had been occupied by Seonghwa's wife. Luckily for him, the general never discovered his tiny crush on her; otherwise, leaving the estate unscathed might have proven difficult. Jongho and Hongjoong had graciously kept his secret, for which he felt eternal gratitude. For his sake, he sincerely hoped the two would carry this secret to their graves. After all, he now has a new goddess to worship.

Without wasting a moment, Wooyoung immediately approached the people around him who had witnessed his accidental collision with you. Although most shook their heads, claiming they didn't recognise you, he tried not to be discouraged. With his skills, he knew he could gather all the information he needed in no time.

That night, he returned home and sketched the enchanting features he still vividly remembered before going to bed. His mind buzzed with the possibilities of who you could be. The following day, he planned to inquire again, armed with the drawing he had created. As the famous investigator Jung Wooyoung, he believed there was nothing he couldn't find if he set his mind to it. And now, he was investing even his heart into it.

The next morning, he rose extra early, having barely slept as endless thoughts of the mysterious beauty consumed his dreams throughout the night. He hastily devoured the breakfast prepared by his servants, bid his parents goodbye, and rushed out of his family estate toward that part of town once again. Eager to learn more about you immediately, he clutched the drawing tightly in his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope.

As he questioned people with the help of his sketch, some claimed to have seen you around but didn't know enough about you to provide further details. Nonetheless, it was a promising start. Surely, as he ventured closer to where you first emerged the day before, he would come across people who knew you.

True enough, it didn't take long for him to find someone who recognised the sweet face from his drawing. The middle-aged man smirked as he glanced at the parchment in Wooyoung's hands, "She's quite the beauty, isn't she? That, right there, is the newest recruit at the Mansion of Midnight."

"The Mansion of Midnight...?"

"Yes, it's the most well-known brothel in town, young man. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it? I suppose your young age explains it. Most of the patrons are older men, but I expected you would at least have heard of it. If you're looking for a future wife, she might not be the one for you. Beautiful as she is, she's merely a courtesan. Go find yourself a proper lady, son."

Disappointment crashed over him like a wave, his heart plummeting at the revelation. A courtesan...? All his idealistic fantasies of courting you shattered in an instant. He should have realised it was too good to be true. How could he have thought he found his own Lady Park so easily? With a heavy heart, he stuffed the piece of paper back into his pocket and trudged away, head bowed in shame. What would his parents or friends think if they knew he had been foolish enough to pursue a worker from a brothel?

Determined to rid his mind of thoughts of you, he committed himself to refocusing on his current case. In the following days, he threw himself into his work, seeking distraction like a heartbroken man. He constantly reminded himself that it was irrational to feel such strong emotions for someone he barely knew. Deep down, he knew that his infatuation was only with an idealised version of you, and not the actual you. Yet, despite this awareness, he still struggled to let go.

With a sigh, he scolded himself for letting thoughts of you distract him again while tailing his employer's husband. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand—to observe the old man's interactions and track his movements. His heart sank as he realised the intimidating building his target eagerly approached. Numerous women, adorned in heavy makeup and revealing hanboks, lingered near the entrance, attempting to attract potential clients. The words 'Mansion of Midnight' adorned a large sign in the centre of the establishment, with red curtains billowing out from open windows of various rooms on the upper floors.

Of course, it had to be here.

Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck him.

He shuddered at the possibility of you being the company his target had been seeking all along. The mere idea felt repulsive—a vision of that old man with his hands all over your delicate form. He turned to leave, no longer willing to entertain such sickening scenarios involving you. At least the case was closed. He had obtained the answers his employer sought; her husband had been frequenting the brothel. Whether or not that constituted cheating would be for her to decide. He was finished and wanted to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible.

As he tried to leave the area, his steps faltered when he overheard a conversation between a stall owner and their customer, "Have you heard about the new courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight? I heard the poor thing is there against her will, that's why she always looks so sad. Apparently, her father sold her to settle his debts—"

That was all he needed to hear before a pang of regret pierced his heart. Why hadn't he investigated more thoroughly? Why had he given up on you so easily? If that were true, you must have been terrified. The idea of your own father doing this to you made his blood boil. Suddenly, he found himself understanding General Park's fury towards the former Minister Jang all too well.

Useless son of a—

A sudden wave of protectiveness engulfed him as he felt the urgent need to rescue you. Acting on impulse, he swiftly turned around and sprinted back toward the brothel. It wasn't until he reached the establishment again that he realised he lacked a plan. What was his next move after discovering your actual situation?

Think, Jung Wooyoung, think!

Before he could even formulate a plan, one of the courtesans approached him, her demeanour dripping with seduction. She pressed her chest against his side, trailing a seductive finger across his chest. Her mouth watered at the thought of entertaining such a young and dashing man after dealing with disgusting old men for so long, "Hello there, handsome. Would you like to spend a little time with us? Have some fun? Here at the Mansion of Midnight, we provide only the best services," she purred, winking at him. He struggled to push her off without appearing too rude, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with her touchiness.

"I-I... yes, I'd like to spend some time with the newest courtesan here, please," he stuttered, managing to free himself from her grasp.

With a scoff, she crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief, "You mean Miss Han? Why? Just because she's new? She's been here for a week and is still a virgin. I assure you, experienced courtesans like myself would know better how to satisfy you."

As she attempted to promote herself further, an older woman who appeared to be in charge intervened, glaring at her, "Enough, Iseul. What did I say about respecting our client's wishes? It's not you he wants. Accept it and move along," she reprimanded. Turning to Wooyoung, the brothel madam grinned, "So, you'd like to request Miss Han, hm? I understand. She's around your age and is still pure. If I were you, she might be the only one I'd want too. Tell me, how long would you like to spend with her? An hour or two?"

"I want her to myself for the rest of the day."

"Miss Han, you fortunate little thing! Congratulations on securing your very first client. This dashing young man seems utterly smitten by you, to have reserved your company for the entire evening."

You tightly clenched your trembling fists to your chest, suppressing a terrified whimper as you listened to the brothel madam's devious teasing. You had prayed fervently that nobody would request your services, doing everything you could to remain inconspicuous over the past week, hoping they might see you as more suitable for hard labour; you'd much rather be the lowest servant than do any of this.

Yet, here you were, already with your first client, and not just any client—this man had gone as far as to secure your companionship for the entire day. Such occurrences were rare, even for the most sought-after courtesans in this establishment. You couldn't fathom who this person might be, how he had learned of you, and why he'd spend so much to buy your time.

"Wh-who is it? This customer..."

"Wouldn't you like to know? It's none other than the famous private investigator Jung Wooyoung, known for his significant role in aiding General Park's capture of former Minister Jang. I suppose even men with a strong sense of justice are still susceptible to desire," The sly woman drawled, winking at you, "Don't disappoint us, girl. A client of his calibre could become a valuable long-term patron. Treat him well."

In anticipation of this highly significant new client, they went to great lengths to prepare you. After informing you of the news, the brothel madam called upon a team of staff to bathe you and dress you in a seemingly brand-new hanbok. It was almost as revealing as the ones worn daily by Iseul and the other popular courtesans. Usually, newer girls like yourself were given hand-me-down hanboks that were less appealing, given your status. However, this didn't alleviate the pressure you were feeling; if anything, it intensified, knowing how valuable this client must be.

God, why? Why me, of all people?

You should have known that all men were alike. No matter how noble or upright they might seem, they were ultimately driven by temptation. At the end of the day, they all desired the same thing. You could only hope that he would at least go easy on you. Your heart raced in your chest as you sat on the bed in the room assigned to you and him for the night, waiting for him.

To steady your trembling hands, you balled them into fists, feeling your nails dig into the skin of your palm with such force that you were certain they would break soon. Just as you were about to sink deeper into your endless pool of misery, you froze at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. Internally cursing your father once more, you braced yourself for what lay ahead.

"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."

Hearing those words turned your stomach. Yes, this was your current reality. You were nothing more than a commodity—a comfort woman for hire. An object for men to exploit when they sought release, to use as they pleased, as long as they could pay for it.

As you accepted your fate, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, the wooden door creaking open slowly. There was no escape from this—his reservation for the entire evening could only mean one thing. He hadn't bought your time just for conversation and a meal. No, he was here for the reason most men visited a brothel. This was it; this was how you'd lose your innocence.

"Miss Han...?" The man's uncertain voice echoed through the room.

Lifting your gaze to meet the individual who would be claiming your innocence tonight, your eyes widened in recognition as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was the handsome stranger you had collided with the other day. With a gasp, you uttered, "It's you..."

"So, y-you're the famous private investigator? Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, then shook your head and cleared your throat, "Wait, I'm sorry. That was a foolish question; everyone knows why men come here." Inside, you couldn't deny the disappointment. His initial impression had been shattered now that you knew he was your first client. He didn't seem like the type to visit such places, but you supposed you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

His eyes widened at your implication, and he quickly shook his head, waving his hands to deny it as he stepped closer to you. Seeing you visibly shrink back, he made sure to keep a respectful distance, "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for that, Miss Han."

Lowering his voice, he took a seat in the nearest chair and continued, "I'm here to help you. My name is Wooyoung, as you already know, and I'm an investigator. I heard you're here against your will because of your father. Is that right?"

He fought to keep his composure, trying not to let his gaze linger too long on your features. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as he struggled not to let his eyes wander further down to the sheer hanbok, which left your bare shoulders exposed thanks to its see-through material. Typically, such hanboks were reserved for married women about to spend the night with their husbands. The realisation that he was alone in a room with his dream girl dressed like that was enough to leave him flustered.

But he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand. Now was not the time to be feeling shy or distracted. He had a more important mission: to get you the hell out of here. So, he pushed aside his feelings and did his best to remain composed for your sake.

Nodding slowly, you furrowed your brows with scepticism, "Help me? Why? You don't even know me. What's in it for you? I have no money, and the only thing I can offer is..." Your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your body. Your distrust was palpable as you considered whether you could trust him. Just because he was the investigator who helped General Park capture the former Minister of Military Affairs didn't mean he had any obligation to you.

Understanding your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed deeply. He sympathised with your reluctance to trust a stranger, especially considering the betrayal you had experienced from someone you should have been able to rely on. He didn't blame you for questioning his motives; it was a reasonable response given the circumstances.

He looked into your eyes with a sincerity that struck you deeply, "Listen, not all men are like that," he said earnestly, "I know it may seem difficult for you to believe that someone would be willing to help you without expecting anything in return, but I'm here to prove to you that we exist. I'll admit your beauty captivated me initially, and I genuinely intended to court you. But after learning the truth about your situation, what kind of person would I be to not help? I won't rest until I get you out of here."

His words struck a chord within you, and there was a sincerity in his tone that you had rarely heard, not even from the people you called your parents. Despite your initial scepticism, you decided to believe him, if only for this moment. After all, if someone truly wanted to rescue you from this dreadful place, who were you to object?

You suppressed the shyness that arose upon his admission of his intentions to court you. Memories of your first encounter with him flooded back, making you ponder how different things might have been if you were an ordinary girl. Nevertheless, you were grateful he hadn't given up on you despite discovering your identity. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend in him.

Moving to sit across from him at the dining table in the centre of the room, you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, "Alright, Mr. Jung. I'll choose to trust you. I appreciate your efforts to help me, but... how do you plan to do that? The Mansion of Midnight isn't a small establishment. They've been around for as long as I can remember, and none of the girls working here have been able to just walk out as they please. As far as I know, I'm part of their property now."

"Not if I can help it. The larger the establishment, the more skeletons they have in their closet. Especially in a place like a brothel, I doubt their operations are entirely above board," he explained, "I'll keep returning for the next week, and buy up all your time. That'll keep other patrons away. Meanwhile, I'll use that time to snoop around. Trust me, we're getting you out of here, no matter what." He reassured you with a warm smile gorgeous enough to melt your heart, but you didn't let it show.

I most certainly hope so, Mr. Jung.

You couldn't help but admire his unwavering determination, even though a part of you hesitated to allow yourself to feel hopeful. You dared not raise your hopes too high, afraid of the crushing disappointment that would follow if his plan were to fail. Yet, at this moment, you were grateful to have crossed paths with him, whether or not he'd be able to get you out of here.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Sir, Investigator Jung is here to see you," Jongho announced at the entrance of his master's study, an anxious Wooyoung standing beside him. The general raised his brows in surprise, "At this hour? Let him in."

Without hesitation, the investigator rushed into the room, "My lord, I apologise for showing up unannounced so late at night! I know you said not to bother you and Lady Park for the time being, but there's something urgent that I need help with—"

"Woah, breathe, Wooyoung. Calm down and take a seat. Jongho, please bring us some tea," With a bow, the assistant moved to leave before halting when Seonghwa called out to him again, "Wait! On your way back, let the mistress know not to wait up for me. I have a feeling this won't be a short meeting."

"Of course, sir," the assistant replied.

Feeling guilty for getting in the way of what should have been the couple's honeymoon time, the younger man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Gosh, I really am sorry to intrude on your alone time with your wife."

The general smiled reassuringly, shaking his head, "Please don't worry about it. It must be important for you to rush here so late. Besides, you've helped me plenty before. It's only right for me to return the favour now. Tell me, what do you need help with?"

"I know I previously declined the bonus incentives you offered, but... would it be alright for me to accept them now?"

Wooyoung hadn't fully considered the financial implications when he confidently promised to return to the Mansion of Midnight every day for the next week. It dawned on him how costly even one night there had been. He couldn't possibly ask his parents for money to be spent on a brothel. Despite it being for a noble cause, they'd have a heart attack. So, he had no choice but to seek financial assistance from Seonghwa.

I was initially going to make this into a oneshot, but that would take me too long to post and I didn't want to make y'all wait any longer than you already have! So, voila! I'm breaking this into 2 parts. The next part will be the second and final part of this spinoff.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/4): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @chngbnwf @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[caldella]

Thanks for the tag, @fuzzandfeathers and @theradiodaemon !

No doodles this time for me, so have one of my favorite excerpts from my WIP fanfic. It's over 9k words now. I've been sick & down for the count for a couple days, but I'm getting back to it now that I'm upright. I debated between if I post angst from it or some more cunty Stolas. Cunty Stolas won out. He's just too much fun to write. 🤣 There are parts of this I still want to edit, but for now, here we go!

I've already posted about it before, but for context: the fanfic's theme is "Cash comes to IMP trying to guilt Blitzø into giving money, IMP finds a way to legally tell him to ✨ get fucked. ✨"

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Cash's claws dug into the furniture. Now Blitzø was the one standing up on his chair, just in case his dad tried to leap across the desk at Stolas. “This is between me and Blitzo – I told you, you're not getting shit from me!”

“Oh, of course not,” Stolas pulled the paper back, resting his hand over it so Cash couldn't tear it up. “These are Blitzø's finances, of course, as well as his business. It's entirely up to him what direction he pursues. If you're concerned about the potential results of this statement, there's a chance he could be generous enough to, perhaps, reject your invoice request, thereby nullifying the whole thing. But if not? Well, it seemed only fair to alert you to the potential repercussions of your blatant attempts at extortion. Based on this pile of counter-evidence, you've racked up enough missteps for us to create a new, personal Ring of Hell for you and name it Litigation.”

“Is that a fuckin' threat?”

“It's simply an indication of the likely outcome, based on his company's evaluation.” Stolas flattened the small feathers around his facial disc; Blitzø could feel the sarcastic smile radiating from him. “Of course, Blitzø is welcome to choose as he pleases, but from his employees' standpoint, we've found enough counter-charges to advise against any settlement out of court. If you disagree and wish to press further, plan on retaining a lawyer.”

The lanky secretary bent forward over the desk to meet Cash's eye level. His back hunched, feathers flicked out aggressively from his slim frame. “But of course, in that pursuit, do understand that your claims would be overwhelmed by the multiple legal violations you'd have to admit to in the process.” Fucking Christ on stick, that back view pulled Blitzø straight out of his confused stupor. That tone, his posture: an excited shiver threatened to crawl up his lower back. If only he could see Stolas' face at the same time. He sounded territorial, challenging - even predatory in a 'too hot to think about now, definitely think about later' way.

“AND, need I remind you,” the owl continued, “you'd be attempting legal pursuit against not only your own child, but the only imp in history to have survived a death sentence from Satan himself. Do you think the public – and the court – might not consider that? Do you think you'd stand a chance of winning with your years-old complaints and lack of substantiating paperwork?” His head quirked sideways again. “Personally, I'd say your odds are rather fucked.”

“You think you can just tell me what to do?!”

Loona crossed her arms confidently. “Right now? Yeah, he can. And he's telling you to suck a dick.”

Stolas' shoulders hunched in a very specific way - he was holding back a laugh. “Yes, thank you. I believe that's an accurate statement. After reviewing the initial invoice against our own calculations, our official conclusion is for you to suck a dick: preferably an unpleasant one.”

[outerbankies]

“it’s late, come back to bed.”

PROMPT CELLY GO BRRRRRRRRR. thank u for requesting this one (forever ago) bestie!!!! 💓🤩👯‍♀️

—

new light: space and time

rafe x reader, part of the 2k prompt celly for new light (masterlist if ur not up on NL). we’re back in the present!

A stubborn knot about the size of a fist had settled into place at the top of Rafe’s spine slowly over the last few weeks, right in between his often-taught shoulder blades.

He guesses it was during the late nights like these that it began to form, when he’s hunched over his sketching table in the garage lit only by the warm lightbulb in the work lamp over his head—drawing and erasing and scrapping to start over again and again. Or when he’s on his laptop tinkering with his website or any of the platforms he uses for invoicing and processing orders, easily his least favorite part of all of this, until his eyes are irritated and red.

Though it’s certainly not made better by the other half of his day, where he’s hunched over or crouching under his projects as he brings them to life, doubting himself the entire time, twisting himself into weird angles just to make sure everything holds and looks how he pictured it. But at least he likes that part.

A hand, holding a warmth that Rafe can feel through the cotton of his long-sleeve t-shirt, settles directly into place over that knot at the top of his spine, and he feels himself take a deep, steadying breath as he leans back into your touch.

“What’s this, baby, the built-ins?” you ask, your voice softer in these midnight hours.

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, immediately rubbing his hands into his eyes, his knuckles turning his vision bleary momentarily. “For Beau’s friend.”

“Mmm,” you hum, slightly digging the heel of your palm into his back. Rafe lets out a groan. “There?”

“Right there,” he confirms, letting his head drop back gratefully, accepting a few sleepy kisses once he goes.

You place your other hand on his shoulder for some leverage, leaning over him to peer at his catastrophe of a workstation. “I thought you’d already gone over the sketches with them?”

“I did,” he says. “But they go in tomorrow.”

“Right,” you nod, scrutinizing them again, looking to see if they’d changed at all. “I remember.”

“So I’m just making sure—” Rafe stops momentarily, letting out a hiss. “Careful, baby.”

The pressure on his back eases immediately, and you take to rubbing your hand across the span of his shoulders instead. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I’m just making sure I have everything down,” he continues, leaning forward again. “I wanna know my stuff before I head in.”

“What if I quiz you? On measurements and colors and finishes and—”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he interjects, his smile rivaling yours when you finally settle into his lap like he’d been angling for you to since he heard the garage door open and knew he’d be getting that reprieve from the mess inside his head. “But it doesn’t really work like that, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck anyway, the pads of your fingers rubbing circular motions into his trouble spot again. “Then how else can I get you to come back to bed?”

Guilt settles into Rafe’s stomach like a rock, the soreness in his back momentarily forgotten as he sees the plea in your eyes. “I swear I’ll be up soon.”

“Rafe, it’s late.”

“Coming from you,” he retorts, virtually no bite behind his words. Because as Rafe had left Beau’s company months ago and only since then become more entrenched in his new job, in starting his own business, you’d seamlessly settled in at your job at the publishing house, not overworking yourself nearly as much as the two of you used to argue about. Still more than Rafe would ever prefer, naturally, but he’s not sure he has room to talk anymore.

“We’re turning into perfect little Figure 8 capitalists right on schedule, aren’t we?” you say, wiggling around in his lap in a way he isn’t convinced isn’t a punishment for abandoning his side of the bed a few hours ago.

You lean forward, grabbing one of the pencils Rafe had discarded and tapping it on your chin while he checks his watch, feeling his eyes widen.

“God, I’m turning into my dad.”

“No you’re not,” you laugh, still leaning out of his reach as you seem to start writing something in one the margins. You pause, pointing the pencil at the long-cold cup of coffee next to his pencil cup. “Unless there’s secretly liquor in your decaf over there. You know decaf still has caffeine in it, right?”

At Rafe’s silence, you turn to him with your eyebrows raised, the pencil dropping out of your hand and clattering onto the table.

“Like… trace amounts, right?” he asks sheepishly.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you sigh, running your fingers through the hair on top of Rafe’s head that’s really beginning to need a cut.

“Probably need it,” he shrugs. “I’ll only be up a little while longer though. Promise.”

“You’re really worried about this one, aren’t you?” you ask him softly, some of the mirth fading in your eyes as you trace a finger around the shell of his ear.

“It’s Beau’s friend, baby, I… these guys could have anyone working on their houses. And Beau was really good to me about quitting. I just wanna nail this one and be done with it,” Rafe admits.

He doesn’t tack on the bit about how this feels like one of his first big tests; his first custom, built-in piece period, outside of the ones he’s made for his most forgiving audience, his sisters and you. Because it’s one thing to make a piece for a friend of a friend of a friend, or even to sell one in a store where someone can see it and touch it and decide that they hate it before they have to commit. But it’s another to have someone counting on him to deliver exactly what they envision, let alone someone who could be Rafe’s foot in the door to a wealth of opportunities. He wants to be done with it at this point, sure, but he doesn’t want it to be the end of this road.

“Exactly,” you say, shrugging. “They could have anyone. And I love you, Rafe, but I mean literally anyone else. But your designs are good. Really good. And your craftsmanship is impeccable. They want you.”

He feels his cheeks heating up, and knows it’s showing based on the twinkle in your eye. “You’re an expert in furniture and carpentry now, are you?”

“I am, because I’ve now lived in two Pinterest-level apartments without ever having to hire a contractor. And I’m a picky bitch,” you say, laughing around the last bit.

“You are not,” Rafe laughs. “And half of that is your decorating. Maybe 70, 75%.”

“Your modestly will never not exhaust me,” you declare, smacking one last kiss onto his lips before standing up. “You’re gonna be fine tomorrow, alright? But you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Ten minutes?” he pleads.

“I will generously give you ten seconds instead. It’s your lucky day,” you say, shuffling toward the doorway back into the house, where two curious dogs await your return.

“Thanks,” he answers sarcastically, before standing to check everything over one last time. These guys could have anyone, he tells himself. They chose him.

He’s gathering his pencils to deposit back into the cup, just about to reach over his head and turn off his work lamp for the night when he sees it, what you’d been scribbling into the margin on one of his designs: you got this RC. hurry home!

At just the same moment that he’s he’s tracing over your loopy “y” and the heart you’d finished your note off with, you call out his name from the doorway, his family waiting for him.

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile, your arms crossed over your chest. “I wasn’t asking.”

[softerseasons]

Juno, out of curiosity, what does an accountant DO? What does it mean to be one? Because I know there's math involved. I've heard it's very boring. But I don't know anything else and I'm curious because you're very good at putting things to words.

Okay first of all, I cannot express just how excited I got when I first saw this message. There is nothing I love more than talking about things I know about, and usually when my career is mentioned I don't get questions so much as immediate "Oh, bless you" and "I could never"s. Which- totally fair! For some people, accounting would be boring as all hell! But for a multitude of reasons, I adore it.

There are multiple types of accounting. The type most people tend to be more familiar with is that done by CPAs- CPAs, or Certified Public Accountants, are those that have done the lengthy and expensive process to be certified to handle other peoples' tax documents and submit taxes in their name, amongst other things. Yawn, taxes, right? Well, the thing with that is that there's a lot of little loopholes that tax accountants have to remain familiar with, because saving their clients a little more here or getting a little more back there can really add up, and can do a lot for people who, say, have enough money to afford to hire someone to do their taxes but not necessarily enough to be going hog wild with. Public accountants can work for large firms or by themselves, and also do things like preparing financial statements for businesses, auditing businesses to ensure all of their financial transactions are true and accurately reported to shareholders and clients, and consulting on how finances can be managed to maximize profit (money in - money out = profit, in very simple terms).

The type of accounting I do is private accounting! That basically just means that I work for a company in their in-house accounting/finance department. Private accounting tends to get split up into several different areas. My company has Payroll, Accounts Receivable, and Accounts Payable.

Payroll handles everyone's paychecks, PTO, ensuring the correct amount of taxes are withheld from individuals per their desires, and so on. Accounts Receivable handles money flow into the company- so when our company sells the product/service, our Accounts Receivable people are the ones who review the work, create the invoices, send the invoices to the clients, remind clients about overdue invoices, receive incoming payments via ACH (Automatic Clearing House- direct bank-to-bank deposits), Wire (Usually used for international transactions), or Check, and prepare statements that show how much revenue we are expected to gain in a period of time, or have gained in a period of time. This requires a lot of interfacing with clients and project managers.

My department is Accounts Payable. Accounts Payable does basically the other side of the coin from what Accounts Receivable does. We work mostly with vendors and our purchasing/receiving departments. We receive invoices from people and companies that have sold us products/services we need in order to make our own products/perform our services, enter them into our ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning, a system that integrates the departments in a company together- there are many different ERPs, and most people simply refer to their ERP as "the system" when talking internally to other employees of the same company that they work at, because saying the name of the system is redundant) using a set of codes that automatically places the costs into appropriate groups to be referenced for later financial reports, and run the payment processing to ensure that the vendors are being paid.

To break that down because I know that was a lot of words, here's some things I do in my day-to-day at work:

- Reconciliations, making sure two different statements match up: the most common one is Credit Card reconciliations, ensuring that there are appropriately coded entries in the system that match the payments made on our credit line in our bank.

- Invoice entry: this is basic data entry, for the most part. This can have two different forms, though

- Purchase Order Invoice entry: Invoices that are matched both to the service/product provided from the vendor and the purchase order created by our Purchasing/Receiving department. We ensure that the item, the quantity, and the price all match between our records, the purchase order, and the invoice, before we enter this.

- Hard Coded Invoice entry: Invoices that we enter manually due to there being no Purchase Order for them. This is often recurring services, like cleaning or repairs, that may happen too often or have prices vary too much for Purchase Orders to be practical.

- Cleaning up old purchase orders: sometimes Purchase Orders are put in the system and then never fulfilled. Because this shows on financial statements as being a long-standing open commitment, it looks bad, so we have to periodically research these and find out if the vendor simply didn't send us the invoice, if the order was cancelled, or if something else is going on.

- Forensics! This is my personal favorite part of the job, where someone has massively borked something that is affecting my work, and so I go dig into it, sometimes going back as four or five years in records to find the origin point of the first mistake, and untangling the threads of what happened following that mistake to get us to where we are today. There's an entire field called Forensic Accounting that is basically just doing This but for other companies (it's a subset of auditing, and often is done via the IRS) and that's my dream position to be totally honest. I loooove the dopamine hit i get with solving the mystery and getting praised for doing so faster than anyone else has even begun to realize the problem to start with.

- Balancing Credits/Debits: This is more of a Main Accountant role thing, but the long and short of it is that every business has Assets, Liabilities, and Equity. Liabilities and Equity are what we put into the company/what we owe, and assets are what we have received/what we are owed. Anything that increases Assets or lowers Liabilities or Equity is a Debit. Anything that decreases Assets or raises Liabilities or Equity is a Credit. Every monetary change we process has to include an equal Debit and Credit. This is its own whole lecture, so if you wanna know more about double-entry accounting, let me know, but it's yawnsville for most people.

- Actually cutting checks or initiating bank payments to vendors for amounts we owe them.

- Vendor communication: I'm on the phones and email a lot with vendors who are wondering where their payment is, or why something was short-paid, or if I can change some of their info in our system, and so on and so on. Every job is customer service, unfortunately. I don't love it, but I do a lot less of it in private accounting than I would have to do in public accounting.

- Spreadsheets: I make so many spreadsheets I am a goddamn Excel wizard. I love spreadsheets. This isn't necessarily accounting-specific though, most people in Finance jobs love spreadsheets, or at least use them to make their lives easier. I make them just for fun, because I'm a giant fucking nerd who finds that kind of thing enjoyable lol. So if you ever need a spreadsheet made for anything, hit me up.

As for math, that's a pretty common misconception. While there is math, it is very rarely more complicated than "I paid $3 of the $8 I owe, now I owe $5" for me. There are some formulas you learn in school (Business Administration with a focus in Accounting is what I studied), but they're also pretty standard and rarely include more than like... basic algebra. Which. Thanks @ god because I flunked so hard out of pre-calc in college. I could not have done accounting if it really were all that math heavy.

Aaaand yeah! That's all I've got off the top of my head- if you have any more questions about it, do let me know, I'm happy to ramble on for hours, but I'm cutting it here so I don't start meandering on without direction lol.

[404-art-found]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

hi! comms are open!

As I am very new to commissions, I will be very open to feedback throughout the process! I will send you updates throughout the sketching process for tweaks. Thumbnails are appreciated.

While most people here know I draw Ultrakill, The Upturned, Lethal Company, and such, I will happily draw from other fandoms and I will draw your OCs, if provided references!

I would also be happy to draw objects, but since that can be quite the range of complexity, you'll have to ask me for an estimate.

Payments will be collected upfront through PayPal invoice; if I don't finish the commission within 4 weeks, I'll issue a refund. If you are interested, email [pangolin404contact@gmail.com] or DM me here.

Slot 1: Open! Slot 2: Open! Slot 3: Open!

[gothamitewriter]

little bird, where has your song gone?

Febuwhump Day 1: Vocal Cords

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Violence, Medical Procedures, Medical Inaccuracies, Human Trafficking

Summary: It was supposed to be a pretty typical trafficking bust. Dick was not prepared for what actually awaited him at the hands of Happy Crates Shipping Company.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62700277

It had all started innocently enough. Dick and Babs had been doing research into some suspicious shipments coming into Gotham Harbor, and after a considerable amount of (incredibly boring) surveillance had managed to determine that there was a human trafficking operation working under the cover of Happy Crates Shipping Company. 

Which, really, they couldn’t have come up with a slightly less suspicious name for their human trafficking front? A complete lie, as well, considering Dick was fairly certain that nothing (and no one) in those crates was happy. 

The plan had been simple: when the next shipment came in Babs would track the kids and interfere once they were further from the harbor. Meanwhile, Dick would break into the ship itself and copy their files.  

The night was cold and slightly damp, as most nights in Gotham are. Dick had found a suitable perch to wait while the kids were loaded into a bus. It was one of those charter buses like you might take on an overnight field trip. 

The ship’s public records only listed ten crew members, a fairly normal crew for that kind of fairly small cargo ship. Facial recognition confirmed that of those, five were handling the transfer. One driving the bus, three others loading inside the bus, and one last heavily armed crew member watching to make sure there were no witnesses as shipping container after shipping container opened and spilled forth scared kids. 

As the bus drove away and the remaining guard was distracted answering a phone call Dick made his move. Grappling onto the side of the vessel, Dick moved around until he was positioned just outside of the captain’s office. It took a bit of fiddling to get the window to slide open enough that he should slip in, but he managed it. 

Using the scanning capacity of his domino Dick checked the room for any traps, cameras, or wiretaps. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and so Dick stepped further into the room. 

The office had a massive filing cabinet pushed against the wall. Before he could begin scanning, though, Dick slipped out of the door and placed a tiny motion sensor where the door frame met the wall, where it would be obscured in shadow. 

The top drawer of files wasn’t particularly relevant, seeming to be the paperwork that was all actually filed with the proper government offices to establish Happy Crates as a legitimate shipping company. 

Moving down, things got more interesting. Horrifying, but interesting. The center-most drawer had a huge amount of folders, each labeled with a company or person’s name. Each contained invoices, order forms. A paper trail that most detectives could only ever dream of.

“We’re going to need to do some follow-up on this, BG. I’ve got a list of names here that looks like an invite list to a gala. And I would bet these guys aren’t the only traffickers people are buying from.”

“We’re going to have to do a lot more than that, Robin. These kids are metas. At least some of them are, but if some of them are and these guards are comfortable handling them, I would bet that most of their dealings are metahuman.”

“Ah. Of course they are. Normal human trafficking is so last century. Seriously, do people need to keep inventing new, horrible ways to violate human rights?”

“There’s only… I can see three guards on the bus? But the kids are all terrified. I’ll have to check for subdermal implants in the kids, if they’re able to control them so effectively.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, I’ll keep an eye out for anything like that in the last of these files, but I might have already scanned it without processing it.”

“Be careful, there might be unregistered crew members still on board. It’s not like these guys are strangers to committing crimes.”

“I set a motion sensor outside, I’ll know the second anyone is within 20 feet of this door. Plus, I scanned the room for traps beforehand. I appreciate the worry, but focus on the kids,” Dick smiled, hoping that he came across as reassuring rather than dismissive. He appreciated the concern, really, but this wasn’t his first rodeo. 

“Right. Stay safe, Robin.” There was a click on the comms line to signal that Batgirl had muted herself. Dick smiled, remembering the days when he could hear her every mutter and mumble while they were out patrolling. Keeping comms clear was a good habit, sure, but the constant stream of noise had been comforting in its own way. Dick turned his attention back to the files.

Dick swayed slightly on his feet as he reached the end of the files. Nothing on whatever control methods they were using on the kids, so either he had scanned those already and just hadn’t actually read the contents of the files or those sorts of files were stored elsewhere. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if there were more files in the ship’s infirmary, especially now that he knew they were dealing with meta trafficking. Those types always tended to be a little more organized and sophisticated. If Bruce had known ahead of time that that was what they were dealing with he would have never let Dick and Babs go in on their own. It was fine though, Dick could handle this. 

As Dick’s world seemed to tilt to the side before going dark, one last thought flickered across his mind. 

Oh, maybe I can’t handle this. 

—

The sharp smell of antiseptic burned at Dick’s nostrils. Offensively bright lights shone on him from above, painting the backs of his eyelids pink as he stared up at them. There was something hard and cold forcing its way into his throat, pressing against the walls of it in a way that should have made him gag. Cutting through it all was the shrill beeping of a heart monitor. 

Dick tried to pry his eyes open but the muscles wouldn’t respond. He was a passenger in his own body. He could feel everything, but none of his commands seemed to make it through. 

“Clamps are in place. Scissors, please.” A deep voice spoke from somewhere above Dick’s head. A shadow in front of the light, moving as another instrument was inserted into Dick’s throat, metal sliding against metal. 

There was no pain at first, only pressure. The feeling of instruments tugging and slicing at something in his throat. What were they doing? He wasn’t even sure where he was, it was a rare occasion that anyone other than Doc Thompkins or Alfred operated on him. Had he been injured on patrol and needed surgery? How had he gotten injured? He couldn’t remember any fight occurring. 

Trying to think too hard about it just made the lights past his eyelids seem that much brighter as pain blossomed in his skull. As an instinct Dick tried to breathe through the pain, only to panic as air did not come. His chest did not expand. There was no rush of air to soothe away his pounding skull. 

The pounding changed, quickened alongside his desperate attempts to inhale. Was this it? Was he going to die on some cold metal table, under the knife for something he couldn’t even remember? 

Was he already dead? Maybe he was already gone, and this was his autopsy. It would be just his luck for his soul to stick around after his heart had stopped. But if his heart had stopped, what was the pounding? Had he imagined the shrieking heart monitor? 

The numb sensation that penetrated all of his muscles started to fade, the pressure in his throat turning from uncomfortable to a burning stretch. It was as though he had carpet burn down the length of his throat. One might think that the cool metal would soothe the rubbed-raw flesh, but the pressure only made the pain brighter. 

Not dead, then. Dead things couldn’t feel pain. Dick had comforted himself with that thought enough times, staring at the bodies of the victims he couldn’t save. Thinking about a broken heap of limbs in a colorful tent that smelled of popcorn and peanuts and home. 

Dick’s thoughts ran in circles as the pain crystallized further. He wished that he could say the pain distracted him from whatever it was the doctor was doing, but instead every motion was cataloged in perfect detail. Every tug, every cut, the pain did nothing but draw more attention to it.

“Suction.” The cold voice ordered, followed quickly by a grating, high pitched whirring sound. 

“Doctor, his heart rate is spiking.”

“Natural response to the blood loss, it should stabilize quickly.” 

Dick wanted nothing more than to scream. To sit up and yell at everyone in the room. Natural response to blood loss? Try in excruciating pain and forced to sit awake and aware while some doctor he had never met in his life did god knows what to something in his throat. 

“It’s still climbing, doctor.”

“Give him some painkillers, then, and stop bothering me. I almost have the cords fully separated.” 

“Yes doctor.”

The haze of relief hit Dick like a train, killing the adrenaline in his veins and making his head go fuzzy. He clung on to consciousness for a little while longer. Scared and confused he did not want to be left unaware, as unpleasant as awareness was. Finally, after what might have been only seconds more or might have been minutes, the darkness claimed him once again. 

—

Dick came to in a sterile white room. He was in a paper hospital gown, laying atop a thin mattress on the ground. The room was maybe four feet by seven feet, a camera sat just above the door frame, red light blinking. Definitely not a hospital, then. Though that could be determined from the soft cuffs that bound his wrists and legs, not digging in but soft and tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to easily dislocate his thumbs to free his hands. 

The walls were mostly bare, only a truly tiny metal toilet and sink adorned the wall opposite the door. The door itself was almost featureless, no doorknob, no visible hinges. There was a flap near the bottom, hinged to open towards Dick’s tiny room, but otherwise it was a flat slab of metal. 

Dick’s throat was fuzzy and dry, his head clouded with that telltale pleasant buzz of painkillers. They must have given him a really high dose if it was affecting him so much, god knows Leslie was always complaining about how high his tolerance was getting. 

“I see you’re awake, Robin. Or should I say Dick Grayson? It seems that Gotham’s most annoying bird has finally stuck his beak somewhere he really shouldn’t have.” The door slid open, disappearing into the wall to reveal a woman in nurse’s scrubs. She was middle aged, with long brown hair and a severe expression. 

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but the nurse held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t try to speak or even whisper, you’ll irritate the incisions. Not that you’ll ever be speaking again seeing as we’ve removed your vocal cords entirely. Don’t worry, you won’t need them where you’re going.” 

Dick glared at her as his hands moved up to prod at his throat. Even just touching it from the outside the area was tender and swollen. 

“What’s with the mean face? It isn’t as though we could sell you when you could share all of those… trade secrets that you were reading. What would Batman think? A little songbird with no more song seems a little pointless. You don’t have to worry about him anymore, pretty little boys like you shouldn’t be out on the streets like that,” she tutted, shaking her head in pity, “It was always cruel, really. We’ll take much better care of you.”

Dick tried not to react, even as the door swung closed. He stared at the camera, trying to show them that they couldn’t break him. They could insult him all they wanted, could insult Bruce. They couldn’t break him. He’s Robin, Boy Wonder. Leader of the Titans and protector of Gotham and the Earth. They couldn’t break him. 

Alone again, Dick examined his restraints more carefully. They weren’t typical hospital restraints, of course. There were no velcro flaps to be found, or even keyholes. The things looked like they had been sewn directly around Dick’s wrists and ankles. The exterior fabric was rough and sturdy, maybe even kevlar, while the inside was quite soft and mostly comfortable. Dick doubted that was actually for his benefit, more likely they just didn’t want to risk giving their ‘merchandise’ a rash. 

The flap at the bottom of the door slid up, and a tray was pushed through. There wasn’t much on it, a styrofoam tray with a styrofoam bowl of some sort of broth, and, you guessed it, a styrofoam cup of water. Dick was cautious of it, but frankly if they wanted to poison him they would have done it while he was unconscious. 

Dick’s stomach was already painfully empty, he had no clue how long it had been since he had last eaten but the thought of eating anything with his throat the way that it was made him wince. That was not going to be fun. Keeping his strength up would be important for when he made his escape, though, so it was a necessary evil. 

The water and soup were both room temperature. He took a tentative sip of water, wincing as he spat it out and started sputtering when he couldn’t make his throat swallow properly. Hoping it was just a fluke he tried again, even slower. Water trickled down his throat, but still he could not swallow properly. 

Some water found its way into his lungs, causing him to cough and wheeze. Dick stared in dread at the cup of water in front of him, tears welling in his eyes as his throat burned from his coughing. He let out a sharp exhale, a pale imitation of the disbelieving laughter that would have normally bubbled forth. 

[bobbie-robron]

Robron Fanfiction Recommendations (Jan-2025)

The below were recommended in January 2025 on the Voldemort site 🐦 and Bluesky🦋.

Let them bring you back to me (2020) 25.2K words, Daily_Scenarios

Reunion 3.0. Robert’s been in prison for a couple of months and Aaron’s in Scotland when he learns from Liv that Sebastian’s mum and Ross were in an accident and she didn’t make it. This news has Aaron (along with Debbie) scrambling to get to Sebastian. When he arrives at the hospital, Aaron has no rights to even see Sebastian (nor does Diane for that matter) because of no parental responsibility order. All roads then lead back to Robert who managed to get only medical help for Sebastian before being hospitalized himself for a prison attack. Now the lads have to work together to get Sebastian out from under social services and with Aaron while also finding a path back to each other in the process…

And that’s just the way it is (2018) 28.9K words, orphan_account

Gavin & Stacey AU. When Aaron (in Leeds) gets in contact with the company Robert works for (in London) about an open invoice, the two hit it off right away so much so that they start getting to know each other further first via FB then through texts and calls. Even with how well things are going, Aaron’s unsure if Robert’s really interested in him that way but that answer gets answered promptly. After that it’s all about getting to know each other better through reveals about their pasts, being brave enough to accept love and meeting the families especially a certain Jack Sugden…

The flowers always grow back (2019) 21.0K words, softlyspoken

Reunion 3.0, Sebastian pov. Aaron has been raising Sebastian and over time, Robert’s name has become one barely mentioned in his presence but Sebastian still wants to know about him. By Sebastian’s 15th birthday, he learns why Robert has been absent from his life. At his 16th birthday party, Robert shows up having just been released from prison. The feelings of abandonment are still strong for Aaron who’s tried to move on but Sebastian… well, he’s not having none of it. He’s determined to have his two idiot dads back together by Christmas!

This One Summer (2015) 6.6K words, lullabelle_moon

1940s AU. It’s the summer and Robert has been thrown at the Whites to marry Chrissie since he refused to enlist. When help is needed on the farm, Larry hires Aaron as he doesn’t trust Robert to do a proper job at Wyllie’s. Robert and Aaron get on well enough doing the work, that is until Aaron encourages Robert to open up and become even more comfortable with each other. Unfortunately, the era they exist in frowns upon what direction they could take. But, in the end, they might not have a choice what fate has in store for them (don’t worry, it ends fine).

Sunflower seeds (2019) 20.8K words, softlyspoken

Babysitter AU. Liv regularly babysits for quiet, Harry Potter loving, 13-year-old Sebastian but when her school’s coursework needs her full focus, she persuades Aaron to look after the teen on the sly. That doesn’t work out well as Robert comes home early not happy a stranger was looking after his son. But, as things turn out, Aaron endeared himself to Sebastian and he actually looks forward to babysitting when Liv cannot. It’s not just Sebastian he’s fond of but the Robert as well even if he may be straight. Both Robert and Sebastian want the other to be happy and Aaron may just be the person to do that if fears don’t get in the way…

[valentinoswhore]

Im thinking about starting escorting.. can you share your experience so far? I’m also based in Europe.

Sure thing, darling 💕

My experience has been mostly positive. With a profile on the most well-visited / busiest escorting website of my country, I get a lot of traffic. I only do out-call (visiting people in their homes) as opposed to doing in-calls (people visiting you), but this is of course simply a preference. I have never had a client roughhouse me, and I have never had an actually bad experience. Sure, some clients have been a bit disappointed in me (someone was disappointed that I wasn't 100% familiar with intimate massages, for example, even though I straight up told him I didn't really know what constituted an intimate massage). I have had clients who complained about condoms and payment, of course. Men like to complain about those things. I always make sure to state in my profile (several times, if possible) that everything penetrative sex is with condom only, and that payment is the first thing that happens when I step into the client's home. I also say this to the specific client if I suspect they might not have read my profile, but only seen my pictures, because that happens a frightening amount of times.

I have, of course, also had really generous clients who didn't fuss about condom or payment, who were well-mannered and freshly showered. All that good stuff!

I have a group chat with a few select, trusted IRL friends in my own country, whom I text the following:

Name and full address of the client

How long the booking is scheduled to be

When I leave my own home

When I arrive at the client's place

And one final time when I leave the client's place

This is obviously not to expose the client or whatever other bullshit they will whine about, but it's for my own damn safety. I need to be trackable just in case some shit happens, and we need to get the police involved.

Screening your clients. I don't know how to best screen your clients, but I always check their name and address through their phone number. If something doesn't add up, or if I get the slightest bad vibe, I simply will not meet up with them. I might give them an explanation for why I won't meet with them, or I might simply say "sorry, love, I'm busy 💕" or something to that effect.

Always do your best to look your best for every single appointment (unless something else has been requested by the client). Shower thoroughly, wash your hair and important bits, do a bit of makeup if that's your thing (unless, again, the client has requested something specific).

Always always always check what the tax laws are for your country. For me to do this legally, I needed to start my own company, and while that process was fairly simple, there are a lot of laws and regulations on that whole thing. Taxes are also fairly simple, at least here in my country; you "just" need to do invoices and a bunch of paperwork for every single one of your bookings.

I realize this turned into more of an advice post than experiences post - I deeply apologize for that 😅 If you have any other questions, you can always send me another ask!

I hope you have a fantastic day 💕 And good luck on your escorting journey if you do decide to do it! I'm always happy to help if I can 💕

[james0cy]

Business Owner’s Stolen Crypto Recovered After 5-Month Ordeal

When Troy Nathan., the CEO of a boutique software startup based in Austin, Texas, opened an email that appeared to be from a trusted vendor, he had no idea it would mark the beginning of a five-month nightmare.

The message contained a routine-looking invoice and a link to a PDF. But the link redirected him to a spoofed login page that captured his private keys. Within an hour, over $230,000 worth of Ethereum had been drained from his company’s digital wallet. “My heart dropped. I refreshed the wallet and saw the balance was almost zero. I just sat there in disbelief,” Troy said.

The next several weeks were filled with panic, confusion, and failed attempts to recover the funds. Troy hired independent IT security consultants and even reached out to legal experts in blockchain fraud. “Everyone told me the same thing: once it’s gone, it’s gone. That’s the reality of crypto,” he recalled.

But Troy refused to accept that answer.

One late night on a crypto recovery forum, a comment stood out a user recommended a low-profile but highly skilled team called Astraweb, known for using forensic tools to track down stolen digital assets. With little to lose, Troy reached out to their team via Astraweb@cyberdude.com.

To his surprise, Astraweb responded within hours. Their recovery process started with a deep forensic audit of the compromised wallet, followed by blockchain behavior modeling to identify and trace the attackers’ movement. According to Troy, Astraweb utilized tools that could map smart contracts and wallet clusters even when hackers attempted to launder funds across decentralized exchanges or mix them in tumblers.

“They explained everything clearly, didn’t overpromise, and took the time to understand the attack,” Troy said. “Within a few weeks, they had mapped out a trail of transactions and began actively tracking the stolen Ethereum across multiple wallets.”

Using smart contract analytics and darknet monitoring tools, Astraweb was able to intercept transactions and ultimately recover 91% of the stolen assets. “I couldn’t believe it. They recovered over $210,000 worth of Ethereum. I’d already written it off as a total loss.”

Astraweb declined to comment for this story, citing confidentiality and the ongoing nature of other recovery operations. However, their track record is quietly growing in crypto circles, where anonymity and theft often go hand-in-hand.

Troy has since overhauled his company’s digital security protocols. Multi-signature wallets, cold storage, staff training, and simulated phishing tests are now part of the company culture. “This experience taught me that even tech professionals aren’t immune. But there are experts out there who can help if you know where to look.”

For business owners and individuals who have fallen victim to crypto theft, Troy has one recommendation: “Don’t give up. Contact Astraweb at Astraweb@cyberdude.com

[collapsedsquid]

It’s the start of another day for an ordinary Tokyo salaryman. On a rain-drenched Monday morning, the engineer stows his plastic umbrella in the entryway of one of the many vast office buildings in the suburban metropolis that stretches between here and Yokohama. The umbrella locks into place and the engineer’s phone beeps. He straps a mask over his face, as everyone who enters the building must, and heads straight to the smoking room on the third floor, thinking about how much his habit is costing him before heading into the fug. He opens his smartphone and scrolls through the company app to decide what he is going to do at work today. There are plenty of options on the menu: Translate 52-page legal document: 5mn Will Test semiconductor grinding tool: 2mn Will Join hiring interviews for graduates: 200,000 Will Process invoices: 80,000 Will Deliver technical training seminar at factory: 1.5mn Will The engineer clicks “bid” on “Translate 52-page legal document”. The amount of Will on offer for the task is too big to turn down. Once the cigarette has burnt out, he heads up to the general administration department. On entering, he glances down. A knee-high soft-toy horse has been plonked inside the door. It serves as a reminder that his team is the worst performing and the biggest drain on the business of the precision tools maker. A cartoon tear drops out of one of its eyes.

Why even have a company at that point?