#auditing mechanisms

[indiebirds]

Unmasking the Dark Side: Corruption in the Indian Film Industry

Unmasking the Dark Side: Corruption in the Indian Film Industry

Introduction: The Indian film industry, often referred to as Bollywood and Tollywood, has garnered international recognition for its vibrant storytelling, charismatic actors, and mesmerising song and dance sequences. However, behind the glitz and glamour lies a murky reality. Corruption, like an unwelcome guest, has found its way into the very heart of the Indian film industry, tarnishing its…

[murdleandmarot]

Local girl discovers healthy coping mechanisms such as *checks notes* walking around in circles while gnashing her teeth and snarling

[randompajamaalt]

just got the worlds biggest gender euphoria boost from hearing orpheus’s singing voice. for context he’s transmasc. and he isn’t on t. and he sings with his natural high voice. and im gonna cry because ive always had dysphoria from my singing voice but now hearing him so confident in his own UGH god i love the mechs

[krawdad]

I'm glad I had a chance to try on the Sweetums head before they took muppet vision 3D out

[jliesworld]

How I make my 2D storytime videos!

I never noticed the amount of work that goes into these videos till I sat down to make this. I became too used to it after making videos for like 5 years I guess 😂😂

[mirnaheadlines]

Government Policies for a Green Economy: Incentives and Regulations

Green Economy A successful transition to a green economy requires a combination of public and private sector efforts, Green Economy with governments playing a crucial role in setting the framework for this transformation. Policies often target sectors such as energy, transportation, agriculture, waste management, and construction, which are significant contributors to environmental impacts. In this context, incentives and regulations serve as two sides of the policy coin, ensuring both the encouragement of sustainable practices and the enforcement of environmental protection.

One of the main goals of government policies for a green economy is to shift economic activity toward more sustainable practices. This involves reducing greenhouse gas emissions, promoting renewable energy, and ensuring that economic growth is decoupled from environmental degradation. To achieve these goals, governments employ a wide range of tools, including tax breaks, subsidies, grants, carbon pricing mechanisms, and strict environmental regulations.

A green economy also emphasizes social inclusiveness, Green Economy ensuring that the transition to sustainability benefits all members of society, particularly vulnerable groups who are most affected by environmental degradation. Green Economy Government policies often include provisions for job creation in green industries, education and training for new skills, and social protection measures to ensure that no one is left behind in the transition.

This section will delve into six key areas of government policies for a green economy: renewable energy incentives, carbon pricing mechanisms, green transportation policies, sustainable agriculture support, waste management and recycling regulations, and financial incentives for green innovation.

Renewable Energy Incentives Green Economy

One of the cornerstones of any green economy policy framework is the promotion of renewable energy sources. Governments have introduced a range of incentives to encourage the production and consumption of renewable energy, such as wind, solar, and hydropower. These incentives are critical for reducing reliance on fossil fuels, which are the primary source of greenhouse gas emissions.

Renewable energy incentives often take the form of subsidies and tax breaks. For instance, many governments offer production tax credits (PTCs) and investment tax credits (ITCs) to companies that generate renewable energy or invest in renewable energy infrastructure. These financial incentives lower the cost of renewable energy projects, making them more competitive with traditional fossil fuel-based energy sources.

Feed-in tariffs (FITs) are another common incentive mechanism. Green Economy Under a FIT program, renewable energy producers are guaranteed a fixed price for the electricity they generate, often over a long-term contract. This provides a stable revenue stream and reduces the financial risk associated with renewable energy investments. Net metering programs, which allow individuals and businesses to sell excess renewable energy back to the grid, are another way governments encourage the adoption of renewable technologies.

Governments also support renewable energy through research and development (R&D) funding. Green Economy By investing in the development of new technologies, governments can help bring down the cost of renewable energy and make it more accessible. Many governments also provide grants and low-interest loans for renewable energy projects, particularly for smaller-scale projects such as rooftop solar installations.

In addition to financial incentives, governments often mandate the use of renewable energy through renewable portfolio standards (RPS). An RPS requires utilities to obtain a certain percentage of their electricity from renewable sources, creating a guaranteed market for renewable energy. This not only supports the growth of the renewable energy industry but also helps reduce the overall carbon footprint of the energy sector.

Green Economy The combination of financial incentives and regulatory mandates has been instrumental in driving the rapid growth of renewable energy in many parts of the world. Countries such as Germany, Denmark, and China have become global leaders in renewable energy production, thanks in large part to strong government policies that promote green energy development.

Carbon Pricing Mechanisms

Carbon pricing is a critical tool in the fight against climate change and a key component of government policies for a green economy. By putting a price on carbon emissions, governments create an economic incentive for businesses and individuals to reduce their carbon footprint. There are two main types of carbon pricing mechanisms: carbon taxes and cap-and-trade systems.

A carbon tax directly sets a price on carbon by levying a tax on the carbon content of fossil fuels. This encourages businesses and consumers to reduce their use of carbon-intensive energy sources and shift toward cleaner alternatives. The revenue generated from carbon taxes is often used to fund green initiatives, such as renewable energy projects or energy efficiency programs, or to provide rebates to low-income households to offset higher energy costs.

Cap-and-trade systems, also known as emissions trading schemes (ETS), work by setting a limit (or cap) on the total amount of greenhouse gas emissions that can be emitted by covered entities, such as power plants or industrial facilities. Companies are issued emission allowances, which they can trade with one another. Companies that can reduce their emissions at a lower cost can sell their excess allowances to companies that face higher costs for reducing emissions. This creates a market for carbon allowances and incentivizes businesses to invest in cleaner technologies.

Both carbon taxes and cap-and-trade systems are designed to internalize the environmental cost of carbon emissions, making it more expensive to pollute and more profitable to invest in sustainable practices. These mechanisms can drive innovation, as businesses seek out new technologies and processes to reduce their carbon liabilities.

Several countries and regions have implemented carbon pricing policies with varying degrees of success. The European Union’s Emissions Trading System (EU ETS) is one of the largest and most established cap-and-trade programs in the world. Canada has implemented a nationwide carbon tax, with revenue returned to households through rebates. In the United States, some states, such as California, have implemented their own cap-and-trade programs in the absence of a national carbon pricing policy.

However, carbon pricing mechanisms face challenges, including political opposition and concerns about economic competitiveness. In some cases, businesses argue that carbon pricing increases costs and puts them at a disadvantage compared to competitors in countries without similar policies. To address these concerns, governments often include provisions to protect industries that are vulnerable to international competition, such as offering rebates or exemptions for certain sectors.

Green Transportation Policies

Transportation is a major source of greenhouse gas emissions, particularly in urban areas. To promote a green economy, governments are implementing a range of policies aimed at reducing emissions from the transportation sector. These policies focus on promoting the use of public transportation, encouraging the adoption of electric vehicles (EVs), and improving fuel efficiency standards.

One of the most effective ways to reduce transportation emissions is to encourage the use of public transportation. Governments invest in expanding and improving public transit systems, such as buses, trains, and subways, to make them more accessible and attractive to commuters. By providing reliable and affordable public transportation options, governments can reduce the number of cars on the road and lower overall emissions.

In addition to improving public transportation, governments are offering incentives for the purchase of electric vehicles (EVs). These incentives often take the form of tax credits or rebates for EV buyers, which help offset the higher upfront cost of electric vehicles compared to traditional gasoline-powered cars. Some governments also offer additional perks for EV owners, such as access to carpool lanes or free parking in city centers.

Governments are also investing in the infrastructure needed to support electric vehicles, such as building charging stations. A lack of charging infrastructure is often cited as a barrier to EV adoption, so governments play a critical role in addressing this challenge. By providing grants or partnering with private companies, governments can help build a network of charging stations that makes EVs a more convenient option for drivers.

Another important component of green transportation policies is improving fuel efficiency standards for cars and trucks. Governments set regulations that require automakers to produce vehicles that meet certain fuel efficiency targets, which helps reduce the amount of fuel consumed and the emissions produced by the transportation sector. Some governments also implement vehicle emissions standards, which limit the amount of pollutants that cars and trucks can emit.

In addition to these policies, governments are encouraging the use of alternative modes of transportation, such as biking and walking. Investments in bike lanes, pedestrian infrastructure, and bike-sharing programs make it easier for people to choose low-emission forms of transportation. These efforts not only reduce emissions but also improve public health by promoting physical activity.

Sustainable Agriculture Support

Agriculture is both a contributor to and a victim of environmental degradation. It is responsible for significant greenhouse gas emissions, deforestation, water use, and pollution from fertilizers and pesticides. At the same time, agriculture is highly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, including more frequent droughts, floods, and changing weather patterns. As a result, governments are increasingly focusing on promoting sustainable agricultural practices as part of their green economy policies.

One of the key ways governments support sustainable agriculture is through financial incentives for farmers who adopt environmentally friendly practices. These incentives can take the form of subsidies, grants, or low-interest loans for practices such as organic farming, agroforestry, and conservation tillage. By providing financial support, governments encourage farmers to invest in sustainable practices that might otherwise be cost-prohibitive.

Governments also provide technical assistance and education to help farmers transition to more sustainable practices. This can include training programs on topics such as water conservation, soil health, and pest management, as well as access to research and technology that supports sustainable farming. Extension services, which provide hands-on assistance to farmers, are another important tool for promoting sustainable agriculture.

In addition to financial and technical support, governments implement regulations to reduce the environmental impact of agriculture. These regulations can include restrictions on the use of certain pesticides and fertilizers, requirements for buffer zones to protect water sources from agricultural runoff, and mandates for the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions from livestock and manure management.

Governments are also working to promote more sustainable food systems by encouraging the consumption of locally produced and organic foods. Public procurement policies, which require government institutions such as schools and hospitals to purchase a certain percentage of their food from sustainable sources, are one way governments support the development of local, sustainable food systems.

Another important aspect of sustainable agriculture policies is protecting biodiversity and promoting ecosystem services. Governments often provide incentives for farmers to preserve natural habitats on their land, such as wetlands, forests, and grasslands, which provide important ecosystem services such as carbon sequestration, water filtration, and pollination. By promoting biodiversity and ecosystem health, governments help ensure that agricultural systems are more resilient to environmental changes.

Waste Management and Recycling Regulations

Effective waste management is a critical component of a green economy. Governments play a key role in regulating waste disposal, promoting recycling, and encouraging the reduction of waste generation. These efforts are aimed at reducing the environmental impact of waste, including greenhouse gas emissions from landfills, pollution from improper disposal, and the depletion of natural resources through excessive consumption.

One of the main ways governments regulate waste is by setting standards for waste disposal. This includes regulating landfills, incinerators, and hazardous waste facilities to ensure that they operate in an environmentally responsible manner. Governments also implement bans or restrictions on certain types of waste, such as single-use plastics, to reduce the amount of waste that ends up in landfills or the environment.

In addition to regulating waste disposal, governments are increasingly focusing on promoting recycling and waste reduction. Many governments have implemented extended producer responsibility (EPR) programs, which require manufacturers to take responsibility for the disposal of the products they produce. This can include requirements for companies to fund recycling programs or take back products at the end of their life cycle.

Governments also implement policies to encourage households and businesses to recycle more. This can include providing curbside recycling services, setting recycling targets, and offering incentives for recycling, such as deposit return schemes for beverage containers. Public awareness campaigns and education programs are also important tools for promoting recycling and waste reduction.

In some cases, governments use economic instruments to promote waste reduction, such as charging fees for waste disposal or providing financial incentives for businesses that reduce waste. Pay-as-you-throw programs, which charge households based on the amount of waste they generate, are one example of how governments use pricing mechanisms to encourage waste reduction.

Another important component of waste management policies is promoting the circular economy, which focuses on keeping materials in use for as long as possible through recycling, reusing, and remanufacturing. Governments support the circular economy by providing incentives for businesses that adopt circular practices, such as designing products for durability and recyclability, and by setting targets for reducing waste and increasing recycling rates.

Source :

Government Policies for a Green Economy: Incentives and Regulations

[devonellington]

Tues. March 5, 2024: The Need For a New Plan -- Yet Again

image courtesy of Pexels via pixabay.com Tuesday, March 5, 2024 Waning Moon Rainy and mild I hope you had a good weekend. I alternated between feeling like I was coping reasonably well, and feeling like roadkill. Today’s serial episode is from LEGERDEMAIN: Episode 169: Councilman Grabham’s Threat An unpleasant councilman threatens Shelley’s job. Legerdemain Serial Link Legerdemain Web…

[horrorvillaintourney]

HORROR’S NEXT TOP GENDER FINALS: Ellen Ripley (Alien) vs. The Xenomorph (Alien)

PROPAGANDA FOR RIPLEY:

"The character of Ripley was originally meant to be played by a man. also pleaseeee if this competition is a bunch of white guys im going to lose it"

"She is so incredibly butch and cool, she has that butch mechanic thing going on"

"The character was originally going to be a man but Sigourney Weaver killed it at the audition so she was hired and not a single line of dialogue was changed. Also, overall, most of the films leave an implication that gender is not very important to the point of being a practically genderless society. Everyone in these movies is too stressed and too busy working under late, late stage capitalism. My point is that Ellen Ripley is definitely (however unintentionally) agender."

PROPAGANDA FOR THE XENOMORPH:

"Is this a "character"? It's a whole species technically but I think it should count. Anyway I know people like to think about them as female and therefore Girlbosses or whatever and I think that's fine, have fun. However, they are obviously an alien species that doesn't adhere to human ideas of gender- or fit into ideas of binary sex if we wanted to think that way, since they reproduce very differently. I am also thinking about how their (very iconic) design incorporates a lot of sexual elements/imagery, and in that way too they mix-and-match and play around with gender. And again they are just so iconic."

[hrrtshape]

why do people who don't believe in shifting or don't know about shifting still shift — how can i be one of them?

because belief is not the cause. awareness is not the cause. effort is not the cause.

conscious attention has never been the mechanism.

you shifting has nothing to do with what your conscious mind is doing. shifting is a default function of consciousness itself. it's like blinking. or breathing. or rerouting a dream. people who don't ‘believe’ in it or don't ‘know’ about it shift anyway because it has nothing to do with having the language or the framework. the human mind is always selecting realities. 99% of the time it just does it passively, via emotional assumption or unconscious focus.

those people shifted because their state of consciousness naturally entered a dominant assumption or immersive focus. no method, no faith, no affirmations. they just slipped, like how you can lucid dream without trying to. or how a child can dissociate so completely they form entire inner worlds with continuity. this is not evidence against shifting, it proves that it's innate. you do not need to know about shifting to do it. you just need to exit the state of monitoring it.

so. the reason so many people don't shift after learning about it is because now they're trying. now they're watching themselves. now they're adding thirty-step techniques and waiting to feel something specific. they've left the natural, permissive flow-state and replaced it with a checklist.

they've moved from consciousness to supervision.

and that's the disconnect.

people who shift accidentally aren't better or more special. they're just unbothered. they're not in the loop of: is it working? what does this mean? am i good enough yet? they don't audit every state like it's under border patrol review. they drift. they imagine. they believe something lightly or not at all, and it stabilises anyway, because consciousness doesn't gatekeep itself.

the more you analyse the process, the less you're inside it.

and it IS annoying. you already do shift. all the time. but you don't count it, because it doesn't match the scenario you planned. so you say: “i'm stuck.” when really, you're shifting to a version of you who believes they're stuck.

so what do you do now?

you stop tracking your stats like this is a loyalty card. you stop waiting for proof. you stop narrating “trying” like it's a process that builds up credit. shifting is not a job you get promoted at. it's a door you decide is already open.

here's what works:

law of assumption. or at least it worked for me, and i’ve shifted, so idk take this however you want.

not because it's cute or because it's easy. but because it's the only thing that matches the structure of reality as self-reflecting consciousness.

law of assumption = you experience what you assume is true.

it's not positive thinking. it's not wishful delusion. it's literally how reality renders, based on your internal state being mirrored outward.

your reality does not respond to your effort. it responds to your baseline conviction. not what you want to be true. not what you hope to manifest. what you accept as the structure of your life, your identity, your world.

when you say “i am in my dr,” and then wait to feel something, that's not law of assumption, that's law of evaluation.

when you say “i'm going to shift soon,” and then search for signs, that's not law of assumption. that's law of limbo.

when you say “i hope this method works,” and treat it like a pass/fail exam, you're not assuming, you're surveilling, and worst of all, not understanding your full potential.

assumption is full saturation. it's not hopeful. it's done.

you shift when you decide that you already did. not when you “feel like it.” not when your body tingles. not when the method checks out.

you shift when the state becomes final.

you shift when the inner narration stops waiting for outer evidence.

you shift when the thought becomes law.

so here's how to shift:

declare it as done, not affirm like a question, affirm like a fact. “i'm in my dr. this is done.” no waiting. no checking. no conditions.

no “if this works,” “once i shift,” “after i shift,” “when it feels real.” drop the qualifiers. stop building futures that assume the present isn't it, you're either in or you're not.

sustain the state - not with force, but with the refusal to contradict it. if the thought “what if it's not working” shows up, ignore it. if you feel normal, say “ok, i feel normal in my dr.” stop letting your interpretations collapse your decision.

if you want to know how to set an assumption and make it come true, read here.

belief is acceptance. just let the truth sit. don't poke it. don't prove it. don't fix it.

law of assumption or shifting isn't a religion. it's not something to “have faith in.”

it's how consciousness works. it's not asking you to be worthy. it's not asking you to trust it. it's just asking you to pick something, and stay picked.

[indiebirds]

Unmasking the Dark Side: Corruption in the Indian Film Industry

Unmasking the Dark Side: Corruption in the Indian Film Industry

Introduction: The Indian film industry, often referred to as Bollywood and Tollywood, has garnered international recognition for its vibrant storytelling, charismatic actors, and mesmerising song and dance sequences. However, behind the glitz and glamour lies a murky reality. Corruption, like an unwelcome guest, has found its way into the very heart of the Indian film industry, tarnishing its…

[bvrnesher]

❝ The art of flirtation ! ❞ ― leo valdez !

tap here for chb masterlist ! here for reqs info

a/n: this was a req, but i accidentally deleted it TT. ! This is short as fuck, but I tried 🫂

— ✦ pairing: leo valdez ! reader.

LEO VALDEZ DID NOT invite you into his workshop.

Let’s make that clear.

You showed up. With your sketchbook, your paints, and that annoyingly pretty sunshine-aura thing you had going on—like some golden art nymph from a Renaissance painting decided to cosplay as a demigod and crash a garage.

You just waltzed right in, right past the “No Touchy” sign, the hazardous contraptions, and the suspicious trail of smoke leading to the corner where Leo’s latest death-trap invention was probably preparing to self-destruct.

And then, without asking, you sat down.

Right on his favorite workbench.

The one with burn marks, mechanical limbs, and a mysterious stain he’d never admit was salsa.

“Hey, Leo,” you said, like you owned the place. Like this wasn’t a sanctuary of gears, grime, and chaos but your own personal studio.

And just like that, he was done for.

You weren’t supposed to stay long. You’d said something about “inspiration” and “sunlight and steel” and how his workshop “had good vibes,” which sounded fake—but also suspiciously like a compliment.

So Leo just blinked at you, watched you pull out a battered paint palette and start sketching, and then spun on his heel and marched back into the clutter muttering something about “boundaries” and “how hot people always get away with stuff.”

That was, like, an hour ago.

And Leo liked chaos.

Not the dangerous, world-ending kind—he’d had enough of that to last a lifetime—but the fun kind. The kind that made your hair smell like smoke and your hands stained with oil and laughter. The kind that made sparks fly from metal and from the stupid little grin he always gave you.

Now? You were still there. Legs crossed on his bench, covered in smudges of gold paint and soft humming, your brush swishing across a canvas that rested against a toolbox labeled “DO NOT OPEN (seriously this will explode).”

You were a walking contradiction: warmth in a place built on fire, elegance in a place built from metal, and chaos in a form Leo somehow didn’t want to throw out the door.

So, naturally, he had to bother you.

For balance.

You sat on the workbench, surrounded by scattered sketches, sunbeams, and the faint scent of oranges. Your fingers danced across the canvas like they had a secret to tell. You looked out of place in the middle of scrap parts and smoke—but somehow, you belonged more than the blueprints ever did.

Leo peeked around the wall, a smudge of grease on his cheek and a screwdriver still behind his ear. He tried not to smile. Failed.

“Hey, sunshine,” he called, leaning on the doorway like he was auditioning for the role of "most annoying boyfriend alive." “Don’t mind me, just checking if the goddess of light came to bless my extremely important tinkering with her divine presence.”

“You mean I came to save your mess of a workspace with actual taste?” you said calmly, flicking your paintbrush with a flourish. “I should charge for the aesthetic upgrade.”

Leo gasped, staggering back like you’d stabbed him. “You wound me, art girl. You really do.”

You didn’t flinch.

“You know,” Leo continued, peering dramatically over your shoulder, “this whole art-in-my-space thing… very bold move. Should I be worried? Is this how invasions start?”

“You’ll survive,” you said, not looking up from your painting.

“Debatable,” he muttered. “You’re sitting directly on my wrench stash. That’s a war crime.”

You tilted your head, dipped your brush into a bright streak of orange, and replied calmly, “I’ll move if you say something that doesn’t sound like a bad pick-up line.”

Leo gasped. Clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “You insult me. That was a great pick-up line. It had flair.”

“It had grease stains and poor delivery.”

“Oof.” He collapsed against the bench, sighing dramatically. “You wound me, Apollo girl. First, you break into my temple of fire and invention, then you destroy my ego.”

You just kept painting. Which, frankly, made it worse.

“What are you even painting, anyway?” he asked, craning his neck to get a peek.

“The way sunlight moves across metal,” you answered simply.

Leo blinked. “You mean like… a shiny toaster?”

You smacked him with your paintbrush. Gently. He grinned anyway.

“Okay, okay,” he said, hands raised in surrender. “No toaster metaphors. Got it.”

There was a pause. A soft one. Your brush slowed, catching the light. Leo found himself staring—not at the painting, but at you. Your calm, your focus, the tiny smile you tried to hide whenever he teased you too much.

His heart did a little thing. Probably a short circuit. Or something poetic. Gross.

He looked away.

“You know,” he said eventually, “you don’t have to come in here just to steal my lighting.”

“Oh?” you replied, not missing a beat. “Then why do you keep turning the ceiling mirrors to catch the sun where I sit?”

Leo paused.

Then groaned.

“Ugh. Busted.”

You smirked.

Later—much later—he found himself sitting beside you, both of you on the floor, surrounded by paint-splattered rags, half-disassembled gadgets, and the soft buzz of quiet companionship.

Your painting leaned against the wall, golden and warm. His half-finished invention sparked beside it, humming softly like it didn’t mind sharing the space.

“You know,” Leo said quietly, “I always thought this place was too chaotic for someone like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

“Y’know. All light and soft colors and poetic metaphors about sunshine.”

You nudged his leg with your foot. “You’re all sparks and fire and grease stains. Guess we’re both chaotic in our own way.”

Leo smiled, small and real. “Yeah. But you’re the pretty kind of chaos.”

You looked at him for a moment—really looked—and then leaned your head against his shoulder.

“And you’re the kind that makes a mess and calls it a masterpiece.”

“Rude,” Leo muttered. “True. But rude.”

And for the first time in a long time, the workshop felt complete.

Not perfect.

Just… warm.

— 💐 Req: Heyyyy could you maybe write Leo and an Apollo reader, with him tinkering and her doing art in his workshop? Then maybe he comes to bother her with bad jokes and teasing?

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 2k Content/Warnings: sfw, arcane au in which they're all actors starring in the show, softttt sevika, loser!sevika if you squint, actress!reader, reader is fem/referred to with fem terms and pronouns A/N: i am sure i'm not the only one who likes to imagine that every character in arcane is simply an actor, and they were simply acting; not actually experiencing the tragedy they cannot seem to catch a damn break from... so, without further ado, here is this first installment of this series! as per the poll i posted, sevika will be first, and vi is up next!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

୨ৎ You’re an up-and-coming actress, with Arcane being your debut television series

୨ৎ The audition process was no easy feat; after its first two seasons’ massive success, it was clear that Arcane’s casting directors were looking for the best of the best, and you were up against some intense competition

୨ৎ Some of which were were a-listers, so naturally, you had your moments of doubt, assuming that there was no way you were beating any of them out

୨ৎ You persevered anyhow, due mostly to the genuine love you had found for the character you were auditioning for: Evette, a prodigy mechanical engineer from Zaun who lands herself an internship with Hextech Labs. 

୨ৎ Her story consists of the tragic loss of her parents at the hands of enforcers, unyielding ambition driven by the desire to honor her late parents, and of course, one of the yummiest sapphic slow burns on television to date

୨ৎ You’re sure this slow burn is the main reason why so many actresses scrambled to land this role, and you couldn’t really blame them

୨ৎ Nina Singh was irrevocably and undeniably one the hottest people in existence, playing Sevika, one of the hottest characters in existence

୨ৎ This made for some very awkward chemistry tests between Nina and a few potential Evettes; actresses focusing so much on trying to seduce Sevika that at times, Nina felt like she was shooting the intro to some shitty porno

୨ৎ Then came you: one of the finalists for the role of Evette, unbeknownst to you 

୨ৎ You’re a nervous wreck in front of Nina- she’s an a-lister herself- and even still, your ability to embody Evette and bring the depths and nuances of her relationship with Sevika to life leaves the room taken aback

୨ৎ You’ll never forget the day of your chemistry test; you’re exchanging the final lines of the short scene you’re given to perform with Nina, heart pounding in  your chest

୨ৎ “Not getting any younger,” Nina gruffs in character, nodding towards your tedious work tightening the loose bolt on her arm, “and I’d rather not spend more time with a Piltie than I have to.”

୨ৎ Nina’s got a prosthetic arm in real life, so there’s actually a little bolt she lets you toy with for the scene

୨ৎ “If you want to leave with your arm short-circuting, be my guest,” you sigh, “but I don’t do sloppy work.” Your eyes flit up to hers for a moment- just until she catches you staring- before you continue tinkering with her arm. “And for the record,” you say, finally leaning back to admire your handiwork, “I’m not from Piltover.”

୨ৎ Nina’s brows furrow in confusion for a split second before she conceals her interest with Sevika’s typical scowl. “You didn’t tell me that.”

୨ৎ You smirk, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “You didn’t ask.” 

୨ৎ “Jesus,” the director calls out, “You two… I mean, the chemistry is palpable. Exactly what I'd envisioned. What do you think, Nina?”

୨ৎ You feel shy under her knowing smirk

୨ৎ “I think we’ve got our Evette.”

୨ৎ “Yeah?” The director responds with a smile, “What do you think, Y/n? How would you like to join us for season three of Arcane?”

୨ৎ Frankly, you almost shit yourself in front of the entire room

୨ৎ Thankfully, you’re able to keep it together and accept the role like a normal person; and now, here you are, three years later, and Arcane fans are obsessed with you

୨ৎ Even more than they’re obsessed with you, they’re obsessed with you and Nina 

୨ৎ Your character is a catalyst for the well-deserved, long overdue exploration of Sevika’s character and her vulnerabilities, and you and Nina are so invested in your characters that the bond you develop while filming inevitably goes beyond screen

୨ৎ At first, you’re wildly intimidated by her; she’s a renowned actress who’d been in the industry for a while, most known for roles similar to Sevika: guarded, icy, domineering

୨ৎ You’re quite tickled (and pleasantly surprised) to learn that Nina is the exact opposite

୨ৎ As soon as cut is called, she’s breaking into a smile, cracking a joke, or praising you for your performance

୨ৎ After particularly heavy or intense scenes, though, her expression tends to remain serious, and her focus isn’t on anyone but you until she knows you're all good

୨ৎ There’s one scene in particular- one where Sevika’s ripping into Evette- that Nina still feels bad about

୨ৎ It’s the first scene she thinks of when a journalist asks which scene from season three was the hardest to film

୨ৎ “I hate having to yell at her,” she says. “I can’t stand it; and you saw her bring on the tears- man, it broke my freakin’ heart!” 

୨ৎ You reach over to rub circles in between her shoulder blades, playfully rolling your eyes

୨ৎ “Poor baby,” you say, sticking your bottom lip out in a mocking pout

୨ৎ “So I take it Sevika’s disposition is much different than Nina’s?” The journalist inquires

୨ৎ “Oh, 100%,” you nod, “Apart from the RBF, Nina is a softie. I’ve never seen her angry.”

୨ৎ “I’m not a softie,” she mutters, resting her chin in her hand, “and what is RBF?”

୨ৎ “Resting Bitch Face,” you say in tandem with the journalist

୨ৎ She lets out a loud laugh, doubling over in her seat

୨ৎ It’s after this interview that fans begin to pick up on some… not-so-platonic energy between you and Nina

୨ৎ Nina is very sweet, yes, but she’s also very shy

୨ৎ But it seems that whenever she’s around you, she’s much more comfortable, coming out of her shell more than ever

୨ৎ Thus prompts the compilations 

୨ৎ “Nina Singh and Y/n Y/l/n being in love for 12 minutes and 54 seconds”

୨ৎ “Every time Nina manages to make the conversation about Y/n compilation”

୨ৎ “Take a shot every time Y/n makes Nina blush challenge: extreme”

୨ৎ But there are three moments in particular that fans can’t get enough of:

୨ৎ 1. The forever immortalized moment where you made Nina blush during a red carpet event

୨ৎ It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be paired for most press appearances, considering that your characters were a package deal in season 3, so you’re not surprised when you’re being photographed on the red carpet at the season premier and the photographers want a shot of you two together

୨ৎ “Let’s get some of the two of you, yeah?” the line of photographers begin to call out

୨ৎ Your hand reaches out for Nina- who’s a few feet away, getting her own photos taken- and she quickly slots next to you, arm wrapping around to hold your waist

୨ৎ Her fingers comb through her hair; once, twice, a third time

୨ৎ “My hair won’t stay out of my damn face,” she grumbles

୨ৎ Suddenly, you’re turning to her, reaching up to tuck the stray tendril of raven hair behind her ear and brushing back any other stray pieces

୨ৎ “Better?” You ask, turning back to the cameras like nothing had happened

୨ৎ You don’t notice that she’s acting like a total loser now; all fidgety and shy and awkward

୨ৎ In fact, she gets so bashful that her hand comes up to hide her face

୨ৎ And, of course, who wouldn’t photograph a moment so adorable?

୨ৎ She’s forever haunted by the circulation of her photographed schoolgirl crush freak out

୨ৎ 2. The one and only time she’s ever gone Sevika on someone in real life; and it was to defend you 

୨ৎ You’re sitting on your very first panel at a popular convention, as star-struck by the sea of fans in front of you as they are by the actors and actresses in front of them

୨ৎ This was the most pressure you’d felt during the press tour yet; being interviewed in real time in front of the show’s biggest supporters, answering questions from the show’s biggest supporters

୨ৎ Luckily, the crowd had been great so far

୨ৎ (You’re also sat in between Nina, who always eases your nerves, and Ekko’s actor, who you definitely shouldn’t have been seated next to because all you two do is cut up smh)

୨ৎ Until, a perturbed fan has a question for Nina

୨ৎ “I heard that Natalia Richmond was in the running for the role of Evette; I’m a big fan of both of your work, and I was honestly a little bummed to hear that she wouldn’t be starring alongside you. Not that Y/n didn’t do a good job, but do you wonder what Evette’s character could have looked like if someone else had gotten to take a stab at the character?”

୨ৎ The room falls silent

୨ৎ Your ears burn with embarrassment, and on instinct, you look over to Nina, whose jaw is set

୨ৎ She lowers her mic, turning her head to you with a scoff

୨ৎ “Are you fucking kidding me?”

୨ৎ The crowd lets out an awkward laugh; her mic had picked up her grievance 

୨ৎ Not that she gave a fuck

୨ৎ “Well,” she exhales, bringing the mic back up to her mouth, “truthfully, I don’t think Y/n did a good job. I think she did an incredible job.”

୨ৎ Your breath hitches in your throat

୨ৎ Her voice is stern, assertive; and for the first time since you’ve known her, Nina Singh is pissed

୨ৎ “I wouldn’t have been able to deliver the performance I wanted to this season without her. Sevika’s character arc would not have been executed as well as it was if i’d worked alongside anyone but the woman to my right; so no, I do not wonder what Evette’s character would have looked like if she weren’t played by Y/n, and I haven’t wondered since the day we had our chemistry test.”

୨ৎ With that, she sets the mic down, leaning back and crossing her arms in front of her with a scowl still on her face

୨ৎ The crowd gives her an applause- thankfully, the majority of Arcane’s fans adored you and could not have pictured the Arcane universe without you- and you lean over, giving Nina a “Thank you” and a squeeze on her arm

୨ৎ “Don’t mention it,” she shrugs; and at the sight of the warm smile on your face, she’s a giant teddy bear again

୨ৎ 3. The time you and Nina casually dropped that you’re basically U-Haul Lesbians

୨ৎ You two are setting up for an interview, and the camera is already rolling as your makeup artists powder your faces and your mics are adjusted

୨ৎ The footage starts in the middle of an idle conversation with the journalist

୨ৎ “So you hadn’t heard of RBF until then?” she asks

୨ৎ “I must be getting old,” she shrugs. She gives the makeup artist a soft “Thanks” as they walk away before she continues. “I hadn’t heard that phrase a day in my life; although I had heard that I’m a little unapproachable.”

୨ৎ You chuckle to yourself, thinking of the first time you met Nina; she does tend to sport a furrowed brow, but as soon as she speaks, she’s as kind as can be

୨ৎ “I didn’t think you liked me when we first met,” you muse 

୨ৎ “Oh, well you were right that time. I don’t like you.” 

୨ৎ You all burst out into a fit of laughter 

୨ৎ Anyone who knew of Nina knew of her affection for you

୨ৎ “Right, that’s why we're roomates; because you hate me so much,” you chuckle.

୨ৎ “Exactly- ‘s why we took in a stray cat, too, because who does that with someone they like?"

୨ৎ The journalist is now looking at both of you, gobsmacked

୨ৎ “You mean to tell me you two are living together and took in a stray cat together?”

୨ৎ Cluelessly, you both look to each other, then back to the journalist

୨ৎ “Yeah,” you smile, nodding innocently

୨ৎ “So you two are basically married…” 

୨ৎ Nina snorts, and you giggle, and you both agree

୨ৎ And that night, when you’re both back at home, Nina finally asks:

୨ৎ “Well, since we’re basically married, are you gonna let me take you out to dinner?”

୨ৎ Bonus: 

୨ৎ Yes, there was a sex scene

୨ৎ No, the two of you did not hear the director say cut

୨ৎ Tweets below… enjoy.

──˚₊• 𝐄𝐍𝐃 •‧₊˚──

[nightpool]

If you are an auditor, and you call up the chief financial officer of the company you are auditing and ask “hey when is a convenient time for me to come to your office to review the books,” and he replies “no, no office, parking lot,” and you say “okay I’ll drive to your office and you’ll come down—” and he says “oh no, not our parking lot, a different parking lot,” and you meet him in a parking lot 40 miles from his office, and he hands you printouts of the financial statements and drives away, how should you begin your audit? Which of the financial statements is most likely to contain red flags or discrepancies to be addressed? I feel like the answer is “the parking lot”? If I were auditing those financial statements, most of my questions would not be about technical accounting matters but “why are we meeting in a parking lot again?”

Here is a story about the CFO of the Detroit Riverfront Conservancy, William Smith, who was arrested last week for allegedly stealing $40 million from the nonprofit:

"Mr. Smith’s grip on the nonprofit’s finances was so tight that even the nonprofit’s accountant, charged with tracking spending, could not log into one of the group’s bank accounts. Only Mr. Smith had the password. He gave her the bank statements on paper and met her only four times a year, in the parking lot of a Honey Baked Ham store 40 miles from the office. […]

"Brian Mittendorf, a professor who studies nonprofit accounting at Ohio State University, said that the conservancy’s official documents show that it took steps to safeguard its finances — including oversight from its board of directors and annual audits.

"‘All these things sound as if it’s an organization with a pretty robust review in place. On the other hand, only one person can access the money, and provides paper copies in a Honey Baked Ham parking lot?’ Mr. Mittendorf said. ‘Those sound like the opposite of a robust governance mechanism.’"

As it happens, Smith allegedly altered the bank statements by “[removing] the payments to himself and [replacing] them with fake payments to other vendors.” I still don’t fully understand the parking lot, though? Like you can meet the accountant in your office to hand over the doctored paper financial statements; just unplug your computer first. I just feel like meeting in the parking lot sends a pretty strong message of “I AM DOING CRIME” that you might want to avoid, if you are doing crime.

[rafesapologist]

strangers ─ drew starkey; ch. 1

summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.

warnings: nothing yet, just not proof read fully

author's note: i want to preface that i was heavily influenced by karen x graham from daisy jones and the six (iykyk) as well as chase and madelyn's irl relationship for this story. i'm really excited for you guys to read this and as usual, if you'd like to be on the taglist please let me know!

You couldn’t sit still, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt while your knee bounced uncontrollably in the backseat of the rented SUV. The soft hum of the engine only amplified your restlessness. Your eyes flickered around, catching glimpses of palm trees and blurred tourists through the tinted windows—offering a momentary shield from the unforgiving Los Angeles sun and the bustling crowds beyond.

“How are you feeling?” Kendra, your manager, chimed in from beside you, her smile perfectly in place, glossy lips forming a curve that felt rehearsed.

You forced a chuckle, though it barely masked the pounding in your chest. “Just a little nervous, that’s all.” The words came out flat, a thin veil over the tension twisting inside you.

Kendra gave your leg a quick pat, her reassurance as smooth as ever. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve already nailed the hardest part—the audition. A chemistry read? That’s a breeze in comparison.” Her voice was soothing, but her focus never left the phone in her hand, the gesture feeling mechanical—like a line delivered without thought.

Auditioning for the show had been a gamble, and the stakes felt even higher now. You were still a relative unknown, and Outer Banks wasn’t just any show—it was the show. A streaming giant. You’d almost declined when the offer came, the weight of its success pressing down like an invisible hand. But here you were, convinced by the right mix of encouragement and blind hope, about to see if that gamble would pay off.

"You just need to go in there and feed off your co-star’s energy. Whatever emotion they’re giving you, absorb it and give it right back," your manager instructed, her voice firm as her eyes finally lifted from her phone. She leaned forward slightly, her hand resting on your arm as if to ground you, while the SUV glided through the final stretch of traffic. The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, matched only by the tension in your chest. The destination loomed closer, visible just beyond the tinted windows, and her gaze locked on you, expectant and unwavering, as if her will alone could push you over the finish line.

“Got it,” you replied, forcing another thin-lipped smile—polite yet distant, as if dismissing her with the same gesture. Your attempt to stay cordial was barely masking your desire for space. Just then, your heart gave a hard thud, perfectly timed with the jolt of the SUV rolling over the first speed bump in the studio parking lot. The looming reality hit you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs, as the building came into full view. Each second that passed only deepened the pit in your stomach, the dreadful weight of what was to come pressing harder.

“Thank you,” you murmured to the driver, slipping a small cash tip across the center console as your manager was already halfway out of the SUV. It was a quiet gesture of appreciation, a way to acknowledge the small but crucial role he’d played in getting you there, to this moment. He turned, offering you a kind, knowing smile before you stepped out, gently closing the door behind you. As you straightened your skirt, you couldn’t help but stare up at the building in front of you, its towering stature appearing overhead.

Kendra strode ahead, confidently leading the way as she pulled open the door and gestured for you to step inside. Though her presence could be demanding and stern, in that moment it offered a small but necessary comfort amid the unfamiliar sea of faces that now surrounded you. The room quieted as you entered, and a dozen pairs of eyes turned in your direction, their stares heavy and intense, making you feel small under the weight of their scrutiny. You forced a smile—thin but polite—trying to seem more outgoing than you felt, hoping to project the right impression even as your nerves simmered beneath the surface.

“Well, look who it is—the girl of the hour! Y/N! So nice to see you again,” an unfamiliar voice rang out, though the man’s face sparked a vague sense of recognition, likely from the audition. He stood up, extending his hand with a broad smile that was meant to put you at ease.

"Hello," you replied warmly, masking the swirl of anxiety inside as you shook his hand, maintaining a steady grip. “Thank you again for allowing me this far into the audition process. I’m very grateful.” Your voice remained poised, calm, even though your insides felt like they were twisting into knots.

Your manager’s approval resonated softly behind you, a gentle hum of reassurance as she watched the exchange unfold. “I’m not sure if I introduced myself properly last time we met. My name is Jonah; I’m the director for the show,” he said, his voice rich and authoritative, each word heavy with expectation. A lump formed in your throat, the gravity of his presence amplifying the stakes, pressing down like a lead weight.

“Today, we’re going to have you do a chemistry read with who will be your love interest on the show.” His words hung in the air like a charged whisper, and your eyes widened, disbelief swirling within you. The truth struck with the force of a summer storm; you hadn’t fully grasped the role awaiting you until now.

The thought of embodying someone’s love interest sent a ripple of exhilaration and fear through your veins, making your stomach tumble as if caught in a tempest. Would it be a playful spark, filled with laughter and fleeting glances, or a brooding romance, steeped in longing and tension?

You nodded, a practiced motion that belied the ball of anxiety swirling within. Each beat of your heart echoed the dread tightening in your stomach, the sensation bubbling up like a restless tide. The thought of being paired with one of the actors to portray a romance on-screen sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the lump in your throat aside, your gaze flickering around the room, desperate for any hint of who your co-star might be. Each unfamiliar face felt like a potential source of scrutiny, and the air thickened with tension as you scanned the room, searching for clues amidst the sea of strangers.

“Okay!” Jonah clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and authoritative, breaking the taut silence that had settled. “Let’s get Drew out here.” His voice rang out, clear and commanding, drawing every eye to the door, where a buzz of anticipation rippled through the room. You felt the air shift, charged with expectation, as if the very walls were leaning in to hear who would step through that doorway.

A wave of heat washed over you at the sound of his name, igniting a fire of recognition deep within. You had seen him countless times in glossy magazines and flickering screens, caught glimpses of him at film festivals where the air buzzed with admiration, yet never had your paths crossed until now. Though he wasn’t the biggest name yet, he was a force—a powerful actor whose presence resonated through the industry like a distant thunderstorm.

As the thought of sharing the screen with him settled in your mind, your heart fluttered, a nervous bird trapped in a cage of anticipation. How could you possibly keep pace with someone whose talent seemed to flow effortlessly, whose performances were a masterclass in emotion? Doubt began to coil around your thoughts, tightening like a vine, each tendril whispering fears of inadequacy.

The room felt like a distant echo, the chatter of voices fading into a soft hum as you waited for him to enter. Your heart raced, a wild thump that reverberated through your chest, each pulse a reminder of the anticipation coursing through your veins. The other directors and screenwriters settled back into their seats, alongside your manager, their eyes fixed on you like an audience eager for the first act to begin.

Just as you began to drown in the weight of their stares, the atmosphere shifted, the air charged with electric anticipation. The door creaked open, and time seemed to stretch, every second hanging heavy. Your gaze snapped toward the sound, and your throat tightened as a tall, brooding figure stepped into the room. His presence filled the space, his stature both commanding and slightly intimidating.

For a brief moment, your mind went blissfully blank, as if time had paused to let the reality of him sink in. He moved with an effortless grace, each step purposeful as he greeted the group at the table, his voice smooth and resonant. You could see Jonah nodding in acknowledgment, and then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, he turned his gaze toward you.

Suddenly, he was there, standing before you, and the air between you felt impossibly thick, heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The moment was alive with a sense of anticipation, the unknown curling around you like smoke. You straightened your posture instinctively, trying to summon every ounce of composure, as if by holding yourself steady, you could convince the room—and yourself—that this was effortless, that you weren’t rattled by the sheer gravity of the encounter.

With a smooth, fluid motion, Drew extended his hand, the gesture both graceful and commanding, his fingers outstretched with a quiet confidence that spoke of experience beyond his years. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Drew,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, a gentle warmth woven into the words that caught you off guard. His tone was far kinder than you’d imagined, the kind of voice that could lull a room into ease.

As you reached out to meet his handshake, his touch was firm yet light, grounding yet unassuming, and in that brief connection, the world around you seemed to pause. The noise of the room, the watching eyes, the weight of your nerves—all of it faded, if only for a heartbeat. His presence was commanding but not overwhelming, his demeanor holding the delicate balance between strength and gentleness.

"Hello," you replied, your voice lifting an octave higher than usual, a subtle attempt to come across as feminine, poised. "I'm Y/N." As his hand met yours, your attention flickered to the way his fingers moved—effortlessly, fluidly—sending a tremor through your chest. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch, your pulse quickening under the gentle but assured pressure of his grip.

You couldn’t ignore how small you felt beneath his towering presence. The realization that you had to tilt your head slightly just to meet his eyes made the knot in your stomach twist tighter. His height, his frame—it all made the space between you feel charged, his presence simultaneously grounding and intimidating.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said again, his voice smooth as honey, the warmth in his eyes unwavering. His gaze was soft, kind, a contradiction to the commanding figure he cut. You could feel his energy, an unspoken ease radiating from him, as if he could sense the nerves bubbling beneath your surface.

"If you're feeling nervous or uncomfortable at any point, just let me know," he added, his voice dropping lower, as though he were shielding his words from the watchful eyes of the casting directors around you. "But I'm sure you've got this." His tone was gentle, reassuring, his words slipping through the space between you with a quiet confidence.

You nodded quietly at his gesture, a soft acknowledgment of his awareness and kindness, the unspoken "thank you" hanging between you. Before you could find any words to respond, one of the casting crew approached, handing each of you a script for the audition. The weight of the paper felt heavier than it should, the magnitude of the moment settling in deeper.

Chemistry reads had never been your strong suit, not in the brief time you’d been working in this industry. And this? This felt like a leap into a whole new realm, with expectations looming over you. Your eyes flicked down to the script, scanning the lines with the practiced speed of someone used to absorbing words as if they were lifelines. You read them once, then twice, allowing the emotions on the page to sink in and swirl around your mind, even as the undercurrent of nerves made it harder to focus.

Drew stood calmly in front of you, his presence steadying but no less overwhelming. You could feel his quiet confidence as he glanced through his own lines. The room was still, save for the soft rustling of papers and the occasional murmur from the casting team in the background. You straightened your back, holding onto every ounce of composure you could muster, and waited for the director’s cue.

"Alright, you may begin whenever you're ready," Jonah announced, his soft smile doing little to ease the weight pressing on your chest. His eyes flickered between you and Drew, expectant, watching for the magic to unfold. As his words sank in, a queasy wave rolled through your stomach, the weight of the moment pressing harder against your nerves. There was no turning back now—any hesitation would be a glaring failure, something that could follow you like a shadow in this unforgiving industry. The thought of being blackballed clawed at your mind, and you suddenly longed to disappear, to slip into a place where eyes weren’t always watching.

But before you could let the panic take hold, Drew stepped into the moment, his voice cutting through the tension like a lifeline. He began his lines effortlessly, the words rolling off his tongue as though they belonged to him, his presence filling the room with a quiet confidence. It was as if he had taken command of the space, a seasoned professional steering the scene with ease.

As if possessed by his character, Rafe, Drew dove into his lines with raw intensity. "Maisy, I care about you. But I-I can't risk it. I would never forgive myself if I got you involved in my mess and you got hurt because of it." His hand trembled slightly, betraying the emotion he was drawing from deep within. He pointed to his chest with a shaky finger, his voice quivering just enough to feel real, to pull at the heartstrings. His head hung low, the weight of sorrow written across his face, his entire presence drenched in regret.

You stood there, momentarily in awe of his transformation. The way he embodied Rafe with such vulnerability fueled your own performance, making it impossible not to feel the emotions he was radiating. It lit a fire within you, urging you to dive into the scene, to match the depth he was offering.

"Rafe," you spoke, your voice slipping into the soft, pleading tone of Maisy, letting the character take over your body as effortlessly as breathing. The words trembled on your lips, each one laced with a quiet desperation. "I don’t care what happens to me. I just want to be with you. Don’t… don’t do this."

You shook your head slowly, your movements measured, deliberate, as you stepped forward, closing the space between you. Your hand reached out, grazing his cheek, the tender contact filled with unspoken emotion. As if on cue, tears welled in your eyes, the sting of them amplifying the moment. You gazed up at him, your expression filled with a mixture of pain and hope, as if you were begging not just for Maisy’s life, but for everything she believed in. It was a skill you prided yourself on—channeling emotion so deeply that it felt like it bled from your very soul, and in this moment, you were no longer yourself. You were Maisy, standing on the edge of heartbreak.

Drew’s eyes, glossy with unshed tears, locked onto yours, his sorrow so palpable it seemed to seep into the air between you. His hands ran through his hair in frustration, fingers gripping the ends as if trying to hold himself together. He began to pace, his movements restless, the emotional weight in his voice thick and raw.

"You don’t get it, Maisy," he started, his voice breaking with a mix of frustration and pain. "Everything I’ve ever cared about in my life has abandoned me. I’ve never had anybody who cares about me like you do. I love you so much that it hurts—it hurts me," he cried, pressing a trembling finger into his chest, the gesture full of anguish. His blue eyes, once so calm, were now brimming with tears that slipped down his face, streaking his cheeks as he stood there, vulnerable in a way that left him utterly exposed.

"I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you," he continued, his voice cracking, "but I have to protect you, even if that means letting you go." His brows furrowed deeply, his entire expression twisted in agony, his gaze never leaving yours. It was as though, in that moment, Rafe was no longer a character—he was real, and the pain etched on his face was authentic, an outpouring of emotions he couldn’t contain.

But you didn’t miss a beat. Despite the intensity of his performance, you held steady, the emotions boiling within you just as fierce. "You can’t make that decision for me, Rafe," you pleaded, your voice rising with a mixture of desperation and defiance. Your hands flew into the air as if surrendering to the chaos of the moment.

"If I get hurt, that’s on me. I knew the risk of being with you, and I don’t care!" Your words spilled out with conviction, each one wrapped in the weight of Maisy’s determination. "Nothing is going to make me leave." Your voice was firm but edged with vulnerability, the sternness in your tone undercut by the undeniable pain that flickered beneath. You stood there, watching him, as if your very heart was on the line, a pitiful sort of strength anchoring you in place, demanding that he listen—that he understand.

"Being with you is worth it all," you added softly, your voice tinged with a raw desperation that could only come from someone who had lived through heartbreak. The vulnerability in your tone wrapped itself around the moment, thickening the air between you. Drew’s blue eyes, glossy with emotion, flickered between yours as if he were trying to decode the tragedy etched in your expression. It was as though, in that fleeting silence, his heart was breaking too, caught in the moment of the scene you were creating together.

Then, without warning, his large hands cupped your face, his touch sending warmth rushing to your cheeks. His palms, rough yet tender, cradled your skin, and for a moment, the world outside the scene seemed to vanish. "Promise me you won't go anywhere," he pleaded, his voice trembling with the same desperate intensity that mirrored your own. The emotion in his words was so intense, it felt as if the two of you were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

"I promise, Rafe," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering, a soothing balm to the storm brewing in the room. Despite the emotional intensity, you held steady, grounding both of you in the moment.

For a brief second, the world paused. There was silence—a sacred, fragile quiet—allowing the vulnerability between you to speak louder than any dialogue could. The casting crew sat in rapt attention, witnessing the depth you had both drawn from. Drew’s thumb gently grazed your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours, as though he couldn’t bear to break the connection. The moment was electric, heavy with meaning, as if you were no longer acting but living the characters’ truths.

"I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? I swear on my life," he vowed, his voice deep and resolute, yet drenched in emotion and passion. His words hit like a surge of energy, drawing you in, making your heart skip in response. There was something in the way he spoke that made it feel real, as if this promise wasn't just for Maisy, but for you too.

You nodded up at him, chest heaving as you breathed in the weight of the moment, each inhale heavy with the raw intensity of the scene. It felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, emotions pulsing between your bodies like a silent current, your heart racing to keep up. You weren’t acting anymore—every word felt lived, every gesture steeped in the desperation and love your characters clung to. The air between you and Drew hummed, alive with the electricity of shared vulnerability, a fragile bond that tethered you both to this moment.

Then, like a sharp crack in the stillness, a clap echoed through the room. The spell shattered instantly, the delicate tension that had built between you dissolving as reality rushed back in.

"That was incredible," Jonah’s voice broke through the haze, his head shaking in awe, a grin of disbelief spreading across his face. "The chemistry between you two is beautiful." His words were thick with praise, and you couldn’t help but glance over at Drew, a faint smile teasing the edges of your lips. The connection you’d forged in those few minutes lingered, a quiet understanding that neither of you spoke aloud.

"I think we’ve seen enough," Jonah continued, his tone final yet filled with certainty. "I think you’d be perfect as Maisy."

The world around you stilled, sound fading into a distant hum as his words sank in. Your heart seemed to pause, suspended in disbelief, before it raced forward, pounding against your chest like a wild drum. It was as if time itself had slowed, every second stretching out as the magnitude of what he’d said enveloped you.

"Oh my God, thank you!" The words burst from your lips, a mix of breathless excitement and overwhelming gratitude. Your cheeks flushed a rosy pink as joy flooded through you, warmth spreading through your body in waves. It was impossible to contain the wide, radiant smile that broke across your face. The world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to this single, life-altering moment. You felt lighter, as though all the doubts and fears you’d carried had evaporated into thin air.

Your eyes darted between Jonah and Drew, the weight of their gazes making everything feel real—so achingly real. You had done it. You had stepped into the role, not just as Maisy, but as someone who had finally claimed their place in the world.

"You did great," Drew said, his smile wide and genuine, a warm glow in his eyes that radiated excitement. You could feel his energy wrapping around you, a comforting embrace that mirrored your own joy. As your smile blossomed, his grew in tandem.

Your manager beamed, clapping along with the group of directors, her expression a blend of pride and exhilaration that you had never witnessed before. The room buzzed with energy, each person caught up in the moment of celebration.

"Thank you so much for this opportunity," you replied, your voice a melody of gratitude, bubbling up from within. "I won’t let you down." You stepped forward, reaching for Jonah’s hand, your heart fluttering with excitement as you shook his hand firmly. It was a gesture of gratitude, a promise of your commitment, and you felt a rush of warmth at the connection—a shared understanding that this was just the beginning.

You moved down the line, shaking hands with the rest of the crew, each grip solid and reassuring. Their smiles met yours, each one a testament to the hard work and passion that had brought you to this moment. In those brief exchanges, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that ignited a fire within you.

You made your way back to Drew, and to your surprise, he enveloped you in a hug that spoke volumes, his arms wrapping around you in a warmth that felt both comforting and exhilarating. "Congratulations," he murmured softly in your ear, his voice a gentle melody that resonated in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The embrace lingered, a moment suspended in time, before he pulled back, his smile radiating a bright, infectious joy that lit up the room.

"Thank you. You were awesome, by the way. I'm excited to work with you," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips, raw and unfiltered, yet undeniably true.

Drew chuckled, a rich sound that sent a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he nodded, "Likewise," he replied, adding a playful wink that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. In that fleeting exchange, the connection deepened, an unspoken promise of collaboration and creativity.

Turning towards your manager, you embraced her, feeling the solid weight of her pride enveloping you like a soft cloak. She returned the hug with a firm pat on your back, her touch both grounding and uplifting. "You did great, kid. I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion, wrapping around you like a warm embrace on a chilly day.

You left the studio with a sense of accomplishment unlike anything you had ever experienced before, a buoyant feeling that danced in your chest like a flame ignited by success. The joy radiating off your manager only amplified your triumph, her excitement palpable, like the warm glow of the sun on your skin.

As you slipped into the black SUV parked outside, a smile crept onto your face, blossoming with every heartbeat. The vehicle felt like a cocoon, enveloping you in a new sense of pride, a sanctuary that held the promise of new beginnings.

Your manager, brimming with enthusiasm, quickly dialed your agency, her voice animated as she relayed the news of your audition triumph. You could hear her words spill forth like a rushing river, each syllable a testament to your hard work and dedication.

As you absorbed your newfound outlook on life, the sunny L.A. sky seemed to sparkle with an ethereal clarity, its azure expanse stretching endlessly above you like an artist’s canvas, brushed with hues of hope and possibility. The golden rays cascaded down, bathing the city in a warm embrace, each glimmer igniting your spirit as if the universe itself were celebrating your triumph alongside you. In that moment, it felt as though no force on earth could disrupt the intoxicating high that enveloped you, each breath filled with the sweet essence of achievement.

"You better get ready for tonight, 'cause we are celebrating on me!" your manager exclaimed, her voice a jubilant melody that danced through the air, weaving joy into the fabric of the day. Her enthusiasm sparkled like champagne bubbles, promising an evening alive with laughter and camaraderie.

With a smile stretching across your face, you realized that this was just the beginning. The night was a canvas yet to be painted, and you were the artist, ready to fill it with laughter, joy, and new memories.

And in that instant, you understood: you were no longer the girl who had once doubted herself. You were a force to be reckoned with, ready to embrace every opportunity that lay ahead. The chapter of uncertainty had closed, making way for a new narrative, one filled with passion, courage, and the promise of dreams finally taking flight.

And maybe even something more.

[vampiilure]

Can I get something with sebastian michaelis where he is readers butler and reader doesnt get affect by his charm and argue with him so often? Like in a funny way,reader insults them a lot

yes yes omg i had so much fun with this i hope i did it justice.

one hell of a headache.

Summary: Sebastian Michaelis is one hell of a butler- and one hell of a headache. Sharp insults and constant bickering, both of you thrive on sarcasm, stubborn pride, and zero tolerance. Perfect service has never been so irritating.

Sebastian Michaelis x fem!reader 

Genre: comedy, no romance

WC: 1338

The first time you met Sebastian Michaelis, he bowed so low and so fluidly you wondered if he’d slipped a disk. His tailcoat swished with perfect grace, white gloves pristine as bone china, every movement so precise it could be mistaken for mechanical.

“Lady Y/N,” he said with a voice like fine whiskey, smooth, expensive, and designed to make people drunk on flattery. “It is an honor to serve as your butler. I will execute every duty with precision and unwavering dedication.”

You stared at him from your seat with narrowed eyes and all the warmth of a tax audit. “Do you have to sound like the villain in a second-rate opera every time you open your mouth?” 

His smile didn't falter. “Would you prefer a different accent, my Lady?”

“Preferably one that doesn't make me want to throw myself into a river,” you replied.

The smile deepend, but it wasn't real- it was performative. Calculated. Like everything else about him. “Then I shall endeavor to be more tolerable.”

“Good,” you muttered. “Start by learning how to blink like a normal person.”

From that moment forward, the war had begun.

The next morning, your brief moment of peace in the library was interrupted by the sound of your study door creaking open. It was far too early for anyone with sense to be functioning, which meant, of course, that he had arrived. Sebastian entered like a stage curtain being drawn open, graceful, unnecessary, and theatrical.

“Good morning, my Lady,” he said, setting a silver tray down on the polished oak table beside your armchair. “Your preferred blend- Darjeeling with one sugar, no milk. Steeped for precisely six minutes. As requested.”

You looked at the teacup without touching it, then shifted your gaze to him like he’d brought poison in porcelain. “You annocne tea like it’s the Second Coming.”

“Presentation matters,” he replied with a slight bow. “It elevates the experience.”

“I’d prefer silence,” you said, picking up the cup and sniffing it. “Now that elevates the experience.

He tilted his head slightly. "And yet, you always engage.”

“That's because you never leave me alone.”

“Your safety is my top priority,” he replied. “And considering your tendency to provoke staff, guests, and occasionally houseplants, I feel obligated to remain nearby.”

You stared over your teacup. “You’re not obligated. You're obsessed.”

“Possibly,” he said smoothly. “But obsession, when refined, becomes loyalty.”

You blinked slowly. “And when I refine arsenic, can I use it on you?”

“I doubt it would take.”

“I could make it take,” you grumbled.

“And I could reappear before your next blink,” he countered with a faint smirk.

You groaned. “You are what happens when a chessboard gains sentience.”

“If so,” he said, straightening your curtain with one gloved hand, “you must be the pawn that thinks she's the queen.”

“Oh, I am the queen,” you said, “which makes you the court jester no one invited.”

He inclined his head. “If I were a jester, I would wear brighter colors. But alas, I must remain in black to match your mood.”

You had half a mind to hurl the tea at him- except it was annoyingly perfect, and you refused to waste good tea on a demon.

Later, in the conservatory, you were reading, rather, pretending to, when you felt a distinct, irritating aura enter the room. Without needing to look up, you already knew.

Sebastian stood behind your chair, posture flawless, as if posing for a portrait of smug competence. “You left the parlor door ajar. Drafts are hardly ideal for one of such…delicate disposition.” 

You turned a page of your book. “If you're calling me delicate, I'll be forced to shove you through the greenhouse window.”

“I didn't say fragile,” he replied. “Just temperamental.”

“I wasn't aware you were fluent in irony.”

“Oh, I'm fluent in many things. Including your daily patterns. For example- insulting me three times before breakfast, threatening physical violence by noon, and passive-aggressively ignoring your appointments until I subtly shame you into attending.”

You looked over your shoulder, slow and unimpressed. “You keep a record?”

“I do,” he said, producing a small black notebook from his pocket. “It's quite thorough.”

“Let me see that.”

“No.”

“Let me see it, demon.”

“Demon, yes. Fool, no.”

You stood. He stepped back with theatrical elegance.

“If I find that notebook,” you said slowly, “I will feed it to Tanaka’s koi fish.”

“They eat anything,” he noted.

“Exactly.”

By the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in the drawing room, glaring at estate paperwork like it had personally offended you. Which, in fairness, it had.

Sebastian stood nearby with a list of appointments that you had no intention of acknowledging.

“Piano tuning at two o’clock, correspondence with the Countess by three, and the meeting with the baker regarding your highly specific bread texture preferences at four.”

You looked up. “You make it sound like I'm unreasonable.”

He glanced at your notes. “‘Soft but with crust that crunches at exactly 0.6 seconds into the bite’ is an ambitious request.”

“It's called standards.”

“It's called exhausting.”

“You're exhausting,” you snapped.

“Indeed,” he said with a mock-sigh. “And yet I remain. Unappreciated. Overworked. Elegant.”

“You forgot ‘overconfident’. And ‘deeply punchable.’”

He smirked. “Ah, so you do appreciate me.” 

You set your pen down with exaggerated care. “If I threw you off the roof, would you scream?”

“I’d land on my feet.”

“Would you bounce?”

“I could, if you prefer a performance.”

That did it. You stood up, grabbed the nearest throw pillow, and launched it at his head. He caught it mid air, of course- damn him- and fluffed it like it was part of the decor.

“I'll take that as your way of saying ‘thank you for your service.’”

“You can take it as ‘i hope you step on a rake.’”

He nodded solemnly. “I shall pencil that into the schedule.”

Dinner came, and with it, an even greater challenge, tolerating you both at once. Ciel, who had joined the meal, glanced between you and Sebastian with the exhausted resignation of someone supervising toddlers with vocabulary.

“Are you two ever civil?” the boy asked, setting his fork down.

You and Sebastian answered in perfect harmony. “No.”

You pointed your knife at him across the table. “He breathed in my direction again.”

“She glared at me for breathing,” he added lightly.

“He started it.”

“She finished it. Poorly.”

“Your face is poorly.”

“Your handwriting is.”

Ciel groaned and slumped into his seat.

“I’ll fetch tea,” he said calmly.

“I’ll fetch a shovel.” you said.

Ciel muttered something about headaches and let you both carry on.

Later that night, Sebastian delivered your evening tea and set it on the nightstand without a word. You sat on the edge of your bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Still breathing?” you asked dryly.

“Vigorously,” he replied, smoothing the corner of a blanket. “Would you like your pillow fluffed? Or perhaps violently beaten into silence?”

“Don't tempt me.”

“I wouldn't dare. You might try.” 

“You know I would.”

He bowed. “Sleep well, Lady Y/N. I shall be outside your door should you require anything. A midnight snack, a sharpened quill, a dagger for dramatic effect..”

“I require your absence.”

“Tragically, not on the menu.”

You hurled a pillow again. He caught it, again, fluffed it, again, and placed it back with that same maddeningly smug air. 

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Go haunt someone else.”

“Only when you're asleep.”

With that, he vanished down the hall, leaving behind nothing but faint amusement and the sense that you’d somehow lost again.

You stared at the door, muttering to yourself. “I really, truly hate that butler.”

Your tea, or course, was perfect.

Damn him.