#but when you are self-employed it's all too easy to work yourself to death

[rice-enjoyer]

A taste so sweet ; it makes all of your senses rot, from within.

a/n: this has been MARINATING in my drafts since august. reader is a cook/chef from Liyue! ~3.0k words! this is not sagau, for once, wow! a mostly harbinger-centered fic, i was simply not feeling it with scaramouche, sorry simps. (my boy pants though. - pantalone is finally in the spotlight! the wording of this fic seems to make it easy for me to go on and on about him.) dottore does get his routine paragraphs that are a mile longer than everyone else's, he's still my favorite war criminal <3 cw: gn reader, x reader format. food, probably everything that has to do with preparing food, reader gets kidnapped, reader has some angst added and self-esteem issues but it turns into fluff very soon. few mentions of death, (reader's and a side character's)some obsessiveness + possessiveness, reader ACCIDENTALLY cuts themselves with a knife, very short-lived and harmless wound.

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As the saying goes: The way to anyone's heart is either through their pants or stomach - you chose the latter, being a well-known chef from Liyue. You sort of had to. How did you end up becoming the 11 harbingers' personal chef? Well... You liked to participate in those little cooking competitions, that's how. Always being on the podium, never getting anything worse than 3rd place. You grew up loving to participate, even as a child - not expecting to win, but to learn. Knowledge when it comes to cooking, baking, recipes, and how to alter them just fascinated you, ever since you were young. Xiangling was a close friend of yours, and you've been thinking about signing a contract, to work in a restaurant. You went home, already planning your future as an official chef for the restaurant. With new responsibilities in mind, you sigh deeply in the empty hall as you take off your shoes. Your mind was filled and rattling with all sorts of new problems to antagonize over. You were worried, deeply, but concealing that should be the best, weakness has no place in your heart for now. Maybe later, when you are a bit more comfortable with being employed at a new place. Everything was going too well. Maybe you'll even make friends! And, as you'd joke, fate really despised you. Only, it wasn't a joke this time.

The Fatui are everywhere, you can't deny that. But you started to notice a new pattern as you were about to start working at Wanhmin. Day by day, more and more agents show up around your workplace, then on the street, you live in, you were sure someone broke into your home the other day. But there was no evidence, so what can you do? Stay paranoid, and vigilant. Only one problem with this seemingly flawless plan. You are so exhausted from working one day that you didn't lock your door. You were already busy making dinner, craving stone harbor delicacies since it was easy to prepare - you hear the door creak open. Your train of thought has abruptly stopped.

Now, for the exact beginning of your pitiful reality. It all started with an offer you just can't refuse, literally. A misunderstanding brought you to Sneznhaya, how very tragic. The person rummaging and searching for something in your house made eye contact with you, as you were trying to arm yourself with a single, very average, and rather dull kitchen knife. Mistaking you for someone else who had information worth taking, maybe until your lifeless body would get thrown into the soft snow. While the only thing at your disposal was cooking knowledge, and your lowly excuse of a weapon. Such a sorry fate, for you, and that cicin mage who suddenly vanished shortly after failing such an important mission - never seeing your kidnapper again. You were naive, fate leading you by the hand into a pit you can never truly crawl out of.

Lucky for you, meeting your end would've been too kind of a finale to your seemingly short-lived story. Seeing how you are useful in a way, death's cold grip didn't pull you into the night. In the end, you did sign a contract to work, just not in the restaurant. Becoming head chef for the palace rather quickly, your talent would've been wasted, and, no one would want that now would they? Seeing how you were pleasant to be around, compliant, and mostly, quiet, you were just perfect. Having to serve food for the recruits, and agents were no big deal. You'd even strike up conversations with them, some of those were quite lovely. The problem was that after a while, the harbingers have taken an obvious interest in you. You were too frightened to notice that, at first.

To cope with your sudden change of scenery, of environment, to digest your experience, instead of sleeping at night, well, you'd walk. Restless, going from empty room to empty room, looking out the window. With whatever little moonlight was illuminating these rooms, you'd wonder, if you could ever rest, in a place so cold, so distant from your entire being. And so, the cycle continued, you'd wake early, still dark outside to start preparing for the day, exhausted from not getting any rest. Hands full of idle work, thoughts filled with uncertainty. You dreaded lunch, more so than before. Slowly, you climbed the ranks unintentionally, and because of your hospitality, every single cook, maid, and housekeeper tried to shove all of their scarier duties toward you. You may stutter and show minimal signs of discomfort when talking with any of the harbingers, but you wouldn't break under pressure, therefore, the other staff would live to see another day for a job fulfilled well. But knocking on their doors, when you knew you'd be bothering all of them, wishing they'd just, interact with you as little as possible. Oh but fate just hated you, you were just sure of it. You danced the same, off-beat waltz around the palace at dinner. It took you a while to understand but they hated each other so much. Your daydream of not having to talk to them on a daily basis, having them together at a single location, like one of the many dining rooms was never happening. There are a few exceptions, of course, but by the looks of it, they'd rather eat glass than willingly talk to one another. It was night again, so you'd get yourself ready for... walking. And restlessness.

And so, you thought you were replaceable, anyone can cook, bake, and make dishes taste divine, with the right background and experience.

Anyone could be you.

Oh, but how wrong you were. None of them would admit it to you, of course. Prideful creatures they are. The slow, slow change was seen by all, yet no one talked of it. Annoyance at your presence turned to quiet acknowledgments, nods, and slowly, questions. Having as stressful jobs as theirs, it was nice to hear you chatter about simple practices you do to complete your given duties. It was a breath of fresh air, literally. Some even asked you, - if it was only the two of you, - that you would not use their titles, as it makes them feel closer to you, to being human. They were all oh so curious, about your process, all your thoughts about how to make those extremely difficult Fontaine pastries, what was the difference between baking and cooking, and exactly what would it take to poison them, but before that thought could continue, you reassured them that would never happen, as you are the unofficial taste tester, also eating the exact same things they do, and so on. So, instead of quietly humming to yourself, feeling alone, you realized, they were just as lonely as you. And so after months, you'd find yourself humming along with Columbina. She'd ask to dance with you, and, who were you to deny her a little fun? The pots overboiling had different plans, of course, but you managed. She prefers sweet and light dishes, but the ones with some sort of sweet or tangy filling are her favorites. Like taiyaki, for example. Only because that means there's usually some extra cream on the corner of your lips, and she can easily fluster you by holding your chin in place to clean it off with her finger, sighing in delight while your cheeks become tinted with red and babble at her sudden boldness.

As you were having breakfast, Sandrone was showing you her newest altered automation, mouth full of a slice of an egg, spinach, and cheese pie you cooked for her, it was hard to make out what she was saying, but you listened. She seems to prefer mild salty flavors and portable dishes, which is understandable, seeing how much she's focused on her work. Her favorites are bread specialties you make oh so very often, mora meat, or bread pockets made with fresh fish. You only noticed this when one of her robotic assistants asked you to explain in great detail on how to make the foods mentioned, to produce the exact same result as you do.

On your way to the market, Arlecchino just happens to run into you, saying how the orphanage is not far from the market, knowing very well it's in the complete opposite direction, but you indulge her, talking as if you've known each other forever. You play into her fantasy of having a friend, but after a while, it seems to be genuine. You were homesick the day before, so you made a big batch of lotus flower crisps and took some with you. The sweet aroma from your bag intrigues her, and she now has a favorite snack to eat, not only because it's sweet, but mainly because it reminds her of your walks to the market.

La Signora, she scares you the least. While it seems that she's just as cruel and terrifying, she has known love at one point in her life, teaching you ancient recipes from Old Mondstadt. When making one of them is a success, her subordinates are eternally grateful to you because it puts her in a better mood for days. One dish she really likes and has told you that it reminds her of the past is northern apple stew, so you make it for her whenever you can.

You'd genuinely smile when Tartaglia compared your cooking to his mother's, saying it has a similar "warmth". Another advocate for seafood and fresh fish, he has told you many times when you make Wanmin-style black-back perch stew, he feels like he's right back in Liyue. He's constantly complimenting how skilled you are with a knife when cutting meat. Perhaps it's an invitation to sparring? Who knows, he is never quite clear on that.

Capitano is very against it, however. That's why there's never a direct and clear answer to his question. Why harm the one person who can make good food? This just fuels Childe to annoy you further. Not only because it's fun to do so from Tartaglia's perspective, but also because it's a sure source of Capitano's attention. He is not picky at all, quite the opposite. But there is an obvious preference for meat-heavy dishes, like braised meat or minty meat rolls. A small nod of appreciation that makes you smile softly.

Pulcellina is assisting you to send your letters that are addressed to your family almost weekly, making sure that your loved ones don't think your disappearing meant certain death. He reads them in secret, or so he thinks. How could you not suspect it when you've learned that there is no privacy in this cold place left for you? To your surprise, you've found another pasta lover through him, making most, if not all of Liyue's noodle-centered foods.

Dottore seems to think you want some sort of favor from him, he's far too focused on his research to realize that being a chef is your actual job. It appears that way, but he does care, whenever one of his clones drops by the palace or he meets with them personally, there seems to be a small batch of select spices on your desk or some sumeru roses. How surprisingly thoughtful of him. In exchange for his efforts, you often make Sumerian dishes, such as biryani.

Going out of your assigned guest room, that later on becomes your very own, starting the day with drinking bitter and dark coffee with Pierro. He has told you many times how certain flavors you use in your recipes remind him of a faint memory that tastes like home. You are more than welcome to stay in his presence, "You are no bother, truly." - he finds himself saying rather often. If you have any writing to do, please, feel free to knock on his door, working in solitude is so much more tedious, even if there aren't any words exchanged between the two of you.

Much later, after finishing up in the dead of night, you'd find yourself drinking authentic Liyue tea with Pantalone in his office. You'd sometimes look over his shoulder, interested in what he was writing so quickly. He swears if he were to start explaining, it would bore you tremendously. There have been times when if you'd say one of his colleague's names, he'd listen to you a bit too eager to hear any form of gossip you'd pick up on. You've found yourself a person to actually converse with, good job! There have been occurrences when you'd find yourself getting a bit too comfortable on a sofa in his office, his velvety voice accidentally lulling you to some well-deserved sleep. Don't worry, a secret like this will never be the topic of the newest talk. That would mean sharing your company, and your limited free time with others, and that is certainly the worst. At least with him taking a liking to you, there is nothing in all of Teyvat you are short of. Fate is forgiving to you, just this once. Sometimes voicing your concern about how this is all a bit too much, he'd laugh. "Oh, please. I sincerely hope you are doing this out of formalities." Dismissing whatever humane insecurities you have left like it's the most normal reaction one might have.

You were the last one to notice that closeness, of course. Both figuratively and literally. You were doing a million things at once and accidentally cut yourself while chopping vegetables for dinnertime. A small diagonal cut going from the knuckle of your index finger to the middle of your thumb, nothing major, you think. A voice, coming from behind you thought otherwise. You turned to your left, only to feel two short taps on your right shoulder. "Oh, that could get infected if you don't treat it. Hm. You probably should." - A dramatic sigh left his mouth, probably because there wasn't anyone else around. "Come, you have work to get back to, and so do I. But I can't focus on said work if I'm hungry." Of course. Dottore. The concept of personal space is foreign to him, not leaving you any time to protest or even process what he said. Grabbing your arm a lot more gently than you expected you are being pulled or rather, taken to that god-awful lab again. His tone of voice is...softer, it seems. After a long series of walking, going outside to feel the snow decorating your face in a flushed red because of the cold, going down numerous staircases, you end up at your destination. Keys jingling, ancient iron walls creaking.

He gestures at a chair for you to sit down at. You do, while looking around, this place still irks you. "Tch, I can't just clone you and make you anew, Pierro made one of me sign a contract to swear by it, ugh. Take better care of yourself. This is an order." Judging by his tone, how fast and seemingly carelessly said those words to you, he probably wanted to keep all of this to himself but failed spectacularly. You let out a hearty laugh. The first one in months. Your guard crashes down, into the unwelcoming environment. Your laugh brightens every dark corner of the lab, for a short moment. Someone so apathetic getting worked up over something so trivial really makes you chuckle. "Hah, sorry I apologize." - you deeply inhale to catch your breath. - "I could make something extra for your troubles. Would you like anything specific, Doctor?" "Something sweet should suffice." He finishes wrapping the bandage around your hand, suddenly wincing in pain. He applied something antibacterial to the bandages, but you were too distracted having a good time to notice.

Most of them complain to you about their workload, their colleagues, everything. You now know way too much about the harbingers. You've made them softer towards yourself, but also towards each other. You are acquainted with all of them now. Dottore gloats about being the first one to make you laugh as some huge achievement, like one of his usual cruel experiments on his subjects. You do hear of this, from a maid who took your refreshments to the meeting room. Another thing you hear of from the same maid is how delighted they all are that you don't they don't have to share your attention with the Balladeer, as he is currently busy wreaking havoc in Inazuma. This makes you feel a little honored, but still uneasy. The course fate has picked for you made you so much more than you bargained for.

You hum softly. The same flavor of pride has set its poisonous teeth in you, just like it has in theirs. The walls they've built around themselves are turning into dust in your hands. You've awakened something humane in them, but, only towards you. And, of course, you would never dare to admit it, but they've changed you. You were still kind, and considerate, but the hunger for knowledge in your eyes... it has a different spark, a darker tint, barely noticeable, but it's there. Knowing you can... access information with no trouble, your view of the world, of fate, changed.

They all take great satisfaction in this, it was one of the few times something could be called a genuine team effort. Don't expect them to work together for another cause, unless it's the Tsaritsa herself declaring war. Her cold and gentle gaze makes you feel at ease when the palace is as empty as the poor people's eyes, glassy and dull who dare say anything against her Majesty's principles.

Making a cozy home for yourself in a place like this would make any workplace hire you in an instant, but why would you want to leave now? Maybe a visit to your family, making up for the many weeks and months of not seeing them, sure. But you'll come back, no matter what. You do seem to have some say in the matter, but smiling politely and declining is the way to go for now. It's quite a funny thing to think about, how you have the world's most feared feeding from the palm of your hand. Yes, you are sure of it now, fate has changed you.

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Taglist! (If you'd like to be added/removed, let me know!) : @the-real-fandom-person @petrichor-1 @00kama00

[erinlbowe]

It’s just when you need your strength – mental, physical – that you sometimes feel the worst comedown. That’s burnout. That’s when you throw your hands up and retreat. To your shelter. Take a walk immersed in music or the sounds of birds. Sit with Virginia Woolf and Malbec. Lose the world in your comfort sitcom. Write on those Great Questions that are burning in your mind at night. Break from what is draining you. It will be there when you’re ready to pick it up again.

And you will come back to it refreshed and with enthusiasm. You only get that when you catch it early. When you hit the wall and decide to not climb over it – even if you want to. Especially if you want to. Because sometimes you want to work yourself into the ground. Do you seek some sick award? Maybe you revel in the feeling of exhaustion – maybe it makes you feel important.

No, no, stop at the wall and rest. It is not good to find it a Wednesday in the early afternoon and think ‘my God, I am drained because I worked all weekend.’

It’s constantly playing this game with yourself. Will you let yourself rest? Will you decide you deserve it? But really – what could you possibly have done to not deserve it?

[demonologist-in-denim]

Okay, let’s get into this, because I have put off talking about Crowley’s cut monologue from 12x23 for long enough. If you haven’t already, you can read it here, or in this great gifset.

I absolutely see why this was cut. And I’m only acknowledging it here to talk about why I not only think it doesn’t add anything to Crowley’s story or our understanding of him, but how it actually detracts from it. After that, I intend to ignore it and let it fade away into the ether of the spn fandom. That being said, deleted scenes and cut scripts live in a sort of canonical limbo – you can choose for yourself whether to accept them as canon, consider them glimpses from some alternative universe, or do away with them entirely. I’m choosing the latter in this instance.

(This was meant to be a post, but it turned into an essay.)

Whomever wrote this was either unfamiliar with Crowley as a character, or was intentionally twisting the character in such a way as to fit into the convenient narrative that removed him from the show. Blame it on Chuck in text, blame it on the showrunners outside of text, whatever your preference – this doesn’t read like Crowley.

There are very few parts of this monologue that felt in character, that read like something Crowley would say. Not just in the tone or the choice of words, but the openness of it. And that’s coming from someone who writes reformed and/or human Crowley, with his admittance to remorse and shame and love. In this cut script, he is uncharacteristically vulnerable, sharing self-reflections he would never have shared aloud at this point in his character development. His dialogue lacks the layers of meaning or deflection that Crowley would normally employ, that he employed everywhere else in the show, even when being emotionally vulnerable.

That’s not to say that Crowley didn’t think or feel these things – I will argue to the end of my days (in spn fandom) that after the cure, Crowley hated himself. He hated that he was alone and unloved. Some part of that was due to being a demon and the horrible, evil, messy things he’d done, and some of it he believed was due to his inherent lack of worth. And I think this monologue was written in part to have Crowley make that final confession out loud. Final because, if that’s the case and he’s willing to admit it – to his former enemies and now the only people he really has in his life – his story can only take one of two directions: redemption or death. Embrace the desire for change and move forward as a reformed demon and full Winchester ally, or dramatically (and unnecessarily) sacrifice himself.

And there is a way to write that, but with Crowley properly in character and with the emotional complexity we know him to possess, not this blatant declaration. Maybe the line would have worked depending on how Mark Sheppard played it, and it only falls so flat because it’s just a script – I’m willing to allow for that. But this moment, facing down the boys after letting Lucifer loose, in front of an audience of Mary Winchester that he doesn’t know well and isn’t comfortable with, it doesn’t feel like a moment for Crowley to be this open, this vulnerable, about something so personal and so monumental.

I’ve no doubt that Crowley expected the Winchesters would one day kill him, “for good this time.” He was a demon working alongside a pair of hunters; there was always going to be that risk. Crowley was intelligent, one of the smartest characters on the show. He had to know that was how things would play out – either that, or he would die on their behalf, or because of their actions, even if he had ended up leaving Hell and joining Team Free Will. That was what happened to people around the Winchesters. Crowley warned Kevin of that himself. “They use people up, and leave them to die bloody.” Crowley knew. And as he internalized more and more of his blood-born conscience, Crowley had to believe on some level that he deserved it, especially if he hated himself and what he’d done.

But once again, if Crowley was going to say something like that, that’s not how he’d say it. It would be as a dismissive aside, or a knife in Dean’s gut in a moment of intense emotion between the two of them, or as a rebuke that the Winchesters badly deserved. Or better yet, as something remarked between himself and Cas, who Crowley likely suspected would outlast him but also ultimately die in service of the Winchester cause. Words like those have power. And it’s unlike Crowley to lay them down in supplication like this. It doesn’t even feel like a heart-felt confession, like his monologue in 8x23. It reads like someone wrote what was meant to be under Crowley’s words, the intention behind his dialogue, the much-exalted subtext, but failed to add all the layers on top of it, to put it in actual character.

I’m just going to bundle the whole beginning of the monologue together and toss it out entirely. Firstly because I’ve argued more than once that Crowley is an unreliable narrator when it comes to his human life. What we know of it from Rowena comes with an agenda, and what we know of it from Gavin comes from a man who had a difficult relationship with his father. It’s about as reliable as young Dean telling stories to Sammy about their parents’ time together. And there’s canonical errors in this monologue to back that up – we know Crowley wasn’t buried in a pauper’s grave, because we saw it 6x04. The “dying in a puddle of his own sick” is a great detail in terms of storytelling, but it’s almost directly repeated from Rowena, who said it as a belittling comment to a young Fergus. It’s too forced. And we know at least Gavin came to the funeral, because he tells us so in a deleted scene in 12x13 (remember what I said about getting to pick and choose when it comes to cut scripts and deleted scenes?).

But more importantly – and this is the part that really grates – Crowley’s iteration of his human life reinforces the narrative of absolute morality in the spn universe. It supports the argument that if a character becomes a demon, it must be because they were a terrible person. There is no room for human flaws, for characters to have made mistakes – and that doesn’t just hinder characters in terms of backstory, but in character development and emotional growth moving forward. It’s a stance spn takes more than once, and especially with non-human characters, though never in regards to the Winchesters. The Winchesters can become soulless or demons, but they were “always good” before that, so they are deserving of redemption. If Crowley or other non-humans were “always bad,” that absolves the Winchesters from seeing them as people deserving of help, or of their ability to change, or even to be seen as beings deserving of any level of respect or agency. And it absolves the showrunners from writing a character capable of development, of being able to grow beyond their previous flaws.

That’s not to say that Fergus MacLeod wasn’t some or all of those things. But if he was a complex character – if he was a person, as all stories should aim to present their characters – then he was all of that and more, just as the Winchesters are their virtues and their faults all wrapped up in an individual person. And if Crowley had brought this up some other time, in reference to his human life, none of this discussion would be necessary. It would be easy to say: he’s an unreliable narrator, and this provides us with insight into how Crowley feels about himself, and it would be interesting and valuable. But here, it’s used in justification for Crowley’s status as irredeemable – which is not true – and as part of justification for what happens next.

Crowley’s death was written by the showrunners as an excuse to remove him from the show – attribute that to budget costs for the show, or running out of story ideas for Crowley, or creative laziness, whatever you want. And within spn, it can be attributed to Chuck not wanting another character like Cas muddling up his Winchester Brothersᵀᴹ grand narrative. I’ve written before both in posts and in fic about how Crowley’s character-central instinct for self-preservation crumbles into depression after losing Hell and the seemingly-irreversible depletion of his and Dean’s friendship in 12x23. And that this ushers in a desire to End in such a way that achieves revenge against Lucifer (not a significant motivation, in my opinion, you’ve got to outlive your enemies to win against them), earns him the appreciation of the Winchesters, saves the world (proving his capacity for good), and brings about an end to his waiting. Glory through death, redemption in death – tropes that are hard to associate with Crowley unless you buy into his character’s devolvement in the latter half of season 12, but which the writers do their best to smooth into place and the fandom was forced to choke down.

And I won’t argue that Crowley didn’t wanted an end to his waiting – I’d argue the opposite in fact. This blatant preference for suicide, however, is antithesis to everything Crowley. What Crowley wanted in that End wasn’t an end of himself, but an end to existing in a state of perpetual limbo. Be accepted by the good guys, embrace his more human aspects, or return to the full dark depravity of demonkind. An end to the emotional rollercoaster, to continuous and destructive self-doubt, to striving to be both the king Hell needed and the ally the Winchesters refused to admit they benefited from having. That’s entirely different than wanting to end himself. As much as Crowley hated himself, he would never have considered death to be a preferable option – not unless some outside force, be it Chuck or the spn showrunners, decided otherwise for him.

Even if that had been the case, and I am wrong about Crowley’s characterization and his motivations, I still do not think he would have been as open about that motivation as is written in this cut script. It is just not like him. It is too vulnerable, too self-pitying. Crowley was always concerned about the others around him, and especially the Winchesters, thinking less of him. He never would have said something like this to them, not as this is written. Nor would Crowley have gone to the Winchesters with the intention of them killing him. He might have known it was a possibility, once he confessed his actions, (and from his perspective, there was the chance the Winchesters didn’t know of his involvement in Lucifer’s escape anyway), but it would never have been his intention. It’s not unknown for Crowley to encourage abuse from those he’s wronged, and to revel in the attention and emotions of it (here I’m thinking specifically of Kevin beating him in 9x02), maybe considering the punishment just and due. And Crowley at this point likely suspected he would eventually meet his end in some way involving the Winchesters. But death by their hands in this moment would have involved none of the justifying benefits of death by his own hand only a few scenes later – glory, revenge, redemption, a sense of closure.

Compare this cut monologue and its potential death – at the hands of the Winchesters after confessing his role in Lucifer’s escape – to this cut line of dialogue from later in 12x23. “Tell Dean he was right – you bloody fools have rubbed off on me.” This is Crowley. This is emotional complexity, admittance to a change of heart, self-awareness, and a brave act of equal defiance and sacrifice, with his usual smug, snarky dismissal. This isn’t suicide brought on by depression, by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. It is resolved, determined, if reluctant. This is Crowley choosing the greater good and the boys, even if it means sacrificing himself.

For me, this small addition smooths over much of the unevenness in the showrunner’s attempts to justify Crowley’s death. He has lost Hell, he believes he’s had an irreversible falling out with Dean – all of which could be overcome, grown beyond. But then a rift opens, and Lucifer is an immediate danger, and it requires a life to save the day. Crowley knows it can’t be either of the boys – that tends to have world-ending effects – and it can’t be Mary Winchesters or Castiel, because of “Winchester man-pain.” So that leaves Crowley. And having exhausted all immediate alternatives, Crowley does what internalized Winchester logic and conscience tells him is right. It would still require a moment of hesitation, a moment we see him combatting his deeply imbedded trait of self-preservation. But at least that would have been in character and show definitive character growth on Crowley’s part.

So yes, I completely agree with the decision to cut this monologue in 12x23. It doesn’t tell us anything about Crowley that we don’t already know, and is uncharacteristic of him, and provides out-of-character justification for his actions that wasn’t needed. You don’t have to agree with me, obviously. And I’ll end this rather long rant of an essay by saying what I always say: that Crowley deserved better. He deserved better than the mangling of his character’s motivations in the latter half of season 12, and he deserved better than this monologue. I’m glad it was cut from the final script.

[jebazzled]

They can’t ALL be serial killers: keeping your villains funky fresh

Ah, villains. Spicy assholes. Tricky buggers.

Villains can be very intimidating to write: writing requires you to put yourself in the shoes of another person, which is one thing to do with a decent person. But when you are putting yourselves in the shoes of a bad one - whether it be someone who is simply not very likeable or someone who functions in an antagonistic capacity to a story or rp universe’s hero - well, it can be uncomfortable. 

I didn’t start writing villains until well into my rp career, and I can’t think of a single character I wrote in my undergraduate creative writing degree who was an asshole. I now write a small handful of them - and like most things, I don’t think writing a villain is quite as scary as we sometimes build it up to be in our minds!

That said, writing a villain is an exercise in nuance, and this is something that is often missing from antagonistic characters. In this tutorial, we’ll talk about what makes a villain, and what makes a villain a well-rounded character. 

Triggers, mentioned largely in passing as examples: criminal activity, murder, assault, child abuse, car accident, drunk driving, animal abuse

What makes a villain?

Generally, when we talk about villains, it’s in the context of a narrative, some sort of overall plot theme where there is Good and there is Evil. Think: Death Eaters, the Dark Side, the Horde, the Daleks, the Orcs, etc, etc etc. For the purposes of this tutorial, I’m talking about characters who serve in that antagonistic role, but everything can also be applied to characters who are just shitty people without a part to play in any larger scheme. 

In a plot context, per Oxford Languages, a villain is “a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” To be important to the plot, you do have to post, and if that’s something you’re struggling with, you might want to check out my Writer’s Block TED Talk ;)

A villain can have any number of reasons for being Like That: perhaps they were raised with a particular worldview, or were targeted by a negative influence at an impressionable and vulnerable stage, or genuinely believe they are doing the right and good thing. Maybe they’re just an asshole. In-character, your character likely doesn’t identify as a villain (because everyone is the hero of their own story) and in-character, your character might have friends, allies, and others with varying knowledge of your character’s misdeeds. 

However, out-of-character, you and other writers should recognize that your character is a shitty person. Writing one-dimensional, universally terrible assholes isn’t much fun, though. Which is where nuance comes in. 

Give your character other traits than “evil.” 

Unless your character is THE Big Bad - the Voldemort, the Sauron, the Hordak Prime - there is no reason for them to be Ultimate Evil, and writing them as an endless wash of evil will be boring for you to write and boring for other people to read. Your character should be something other than naughty. 

Using my own handful of villains/bad guys as examples, since obviously I take my own advice, and with apologies that 99% of my rp writing is in the HP verse:

Claude is a Death Eater as well as second-in-command of the magical mafia. He’s an expert blackmailer, has no qualms with murder, and can get pretty gruesome about it if he’s pressed to make a point. He also doesn’t drink, is a devoted father (has framed finger paintings in his study! drinks the pink lemonade his daughters love in crystal rocks glasses!), uses weird slang (”beat it, bozo!”) and takes the family spaniel on daily walks through Kensington Gardens. 

Cleo is a Death Eater and a lifelong bully, prone to theft, physical abuse, and with a knack for the Cruciatus Curse. She’s also deeply insecure, with an unshakeable need to be seen as useful; she’s competitive, and she’s horny enough to drop her purist pretense if a Muggle girl is what’s easiest to get her rocks off. 

Sadie is a squib spying on Order-organized safehouses for the Death Eaters. She’s also intensely curious and ambitious, determined and self-directed, and if she doesn’t understand emotions, it certainly doesn’t stop her from understanding how to manipulate them to maintain the illusion that she is not a threat. 

All three of these character concepts are more compelling than:

Veronica is rude, hates people, is outwardly mean to everyone she meets, uses cultural slurs on the regular.

We get it! Veronica is a shitty person! What else is she? In real life, shitty people typically do find camaraderie somewhere, somehow. Maybe Richie is a total asshole but has made a lot of money from his hedge fund, and he is generous enough with his yacht, ski condo, and jet that he has an entourage he thinks are genuinely his friends. Maybe Kaiytlynn is selfish and entitled, but her access to the entire royal family of Spain keeps her gainfully employed, and she’s genuinely good with her bedazzled bra business. Maybe Claudia is a giant racist, and she’s also YouTube’s most popular craft video creator. 

In real life, maybe there are some shitty people who exhibit fully antisocial behaviors and are rewarded for it. But this is fiction writing, and moreover, it is collaborative fiction writing, and Veronica is not a character who is fun or enjoyable to plot with. Antagonistic plots can have more trouble finding their footing than strictly romantic ones - but they can be fun and rewarding, provided that the antagonist is a compelling one. 

Let your character be something other than “evil.”

Give your character a cover.

More specifically than a trait other than “evil,” give your character a cover. By this I mean: give your character an angle that obscures their true colors, something that lures people - good people and bad people - into a sense of safety. 

Give your character something that keeps other characters from taking one quick look at yours and immediately clocking them as a bad guy. 

In real life, it often takes time to realize toxic people are toxic. In real life, people enjoy circumstances that make people less likely to view them as toxic - just look at the number of people who think Jeff Bezos’s obscene wealth is a marker of his merit as a human being. 

If your character commits a murder a week, is actively abusive to everyone they meet, and has no relationships with any other characters who might vouch for them - idk, man, I think your character is going to get caught! If your character is a quiet and unobtrusive owner of a vintage boutique, however? Well, they certainly don’t scream “IT’S ME! I’M BAD TO THE MOTHERFUCKING BONE!”

In the case of my bad guys:

Claude is a doting husband and father, notably not ascribing to purist tendencies that discourage women from work outside the home. He does legitimate work in real estate and investments, in addition to his shady dealings, to have a legally-sound paper trail should he ever be investigated. His family money funds an entire wing at St. Mungo’s Hospital, and he contributes to political campaigns for centrist politicians. He presents as a harmless goofball. He killed a man well before he turned seventeen. He almost went to Azkaban before graduating from Hogwarts. (”Oh, but he’s on the straight and narrow now!”)

Claude’s cover is that he masquerades as a genuinely good person, and a nice person. When people think about his old-money Sacred 28 family and what that might mean for Claude’s political activity, they also think about how he is a Gryffindor - not known for churning out Death Eaters - and they think about how he doesn’t seem intense enough to be a Death Eater. They don’t suspect enough to have much to go on. 

Cleo works as an Auror, and she’s genuinely good at her job - if only because she manipulates cases away from incriminating Death Eaters and their allies and occasionally Imperiuses a contact or two from her days as a Knockturn Alley bouncer to frame them for a crime. She doesn’t use slurs like “mudblood” at the office and doesn’t talk about blood status there, either. She doesn’t pretend to be nice, and her honesty there makes it easier to believe she’s not pretending when she does her job. It helps, too, that she is not Marked. 

Cleo’s cover is that while she seems like an asshole and is an asshole, she works in the agency tasked with eliminating Dark wizards and she’s good at her job, as far as anyone can tell. She is an asshole, but there isn’t reason to suspect she is an asshole who is part of the Death Eaters, and it is not illegal to be a dick.

Sadie goes out of her way to be friendly to every new safehouse occupant, acting as a guide to newbies about how to live in the shadows. She performs the role of caretaker, therapist, and confidant, carefully doling out the reveal that she is a squib for sympathetic effect. 

Sadie’s cover is that she manipulates other people into viewing her as too weak to be any kind of threat, and she intentionally manipulates people into relying on her for support and guidance. 

If your character is not experiencing social repercussions for being an asshole, they need to have a cover. If they are being an outright asshole, this should negatively impact them somehow. 

An outright asshole might be stuck in a dead-end job because no one wants to promote someone who’s not a team player. An outright asshole might be super lonely without the self-awareness to realize that their garbage personality is the reason for their romantic troubles. An outright asshole might not be able to talk their way out of a problem. 

If your character is an outright asshole and experience no repercussions whatsoever, they’re probably a bit OP. 

Give your character a motive. 

Now the big question: why is your character Like That? Like, for real. It’s so easy not to be a dick. Why are they a dick? What’s in it for them?

Yes, some characters might be an asshole because they think it’s fun and they like to watch other people suffer. But if all your characters are like that - isn’t that kind of boring?

If all your characters are like that - are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

Some of your character’s reason for being a dick can be because they think it’s fun. It can’t be the entire reason. It especially can’t be the entire reason all the time. 

Of course you can come up with a big tragic reason why a character is an asshole - but it truly doesn’t have to be that deep. (Tips on tragic backstories here.)

Of my baddies:

Claude is a purist because someone has to be a lesser class, and it’s sure as shit not going to be him! Claude is a Death Eater because his father saw a business opportunity - both direct work (e.g. the DE contracting Claude and his goons out for a hit, trafficking dark goods, doing deals with purist groups in other magical organized crime outfits across Europe) and indirect work (e.g. having stronger appeal to some of the most influential wizarding families.) He doesn’t love being branded with the Dark Mark (HE is the master of his fate, goddammit!) but hey, it’s a living.

This is a motive centered around financial gain and expediency. Claude is shitty to value money over human life, and he has no qualms about violence - but the motive is not “fun.”

Cleo is a Death Eater because, as a girl from a pureblood family of no importance, she recognizes that many of the people in the Death Eaters are important and influential, and she wants that kind of power. Additionally, she does get a kick out of violence, but she’s a weapon more than she is a fighter: she’s a tool who needs someone to wield her, to give instructions, to give her purpose. The Death Eaters offer both.

This is a motive centered around status and around order - Cleo being a person who needs order externally forced upon her. 

Sadie is working for the Death Eaters because she believes they will win the First Wizarding War, and she wants to secure a place in their new order - ideally something more than she had previously as a squib. She figures if the good guys are really good they’ll forgive her for keeping herself alive - but that the bad guys won’t forgive disloyalty. Also, her boss in the Death Eaters indulges her research in the Dark Arts, which is fun. 

This is a motive centered around security and self-satisfaction. It’s very selfish and cold, but it’s not, like, Sid from Toy Story. 

Why is your character Like That? What do they get out of Being Bad? What do they like about it? What purpose does it serve for them? 

If you can’t think of a reason your character would be a Bad Guy beyond that you want to write a Bad Guy, you should probably rework the character. It’s tricky to write someone who really should just be a Good Guy as a Bad Guy because, depending on your site’s setting, you might end up being a Bad Guy Apologist, leaning into the positive qualities of your character without writing them as an actual villain/antagonist/baddie - and remember, Death Eaters are shitty people! Antagonists antagonize! They should be complex, but you should never lose sight of an abusive class being abusive! 

And finally,

They can’t all be serial killers.

It’s tempting, since we’re writing fiction here and we all love drama, to reach straight for a Big Evil when we’re writing a baddie. They murdered ___! Egads!

If all of your baddies murdered their spouse/parent/sibling, again I ask you: are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

(If all your baddies specifically murdered a woman, might I ask you to examine this choice? Misogynistic violence is not a shortcut to character development.)

Cast of characters aside - what is it your character does that makes them evil? It is worth noting that bad behavior exists on a spectrum, and to jump to the far end of that spectrum without building the character up to it is often jarring and confusing. There are many, many things your character can do that might contribute to their Bad IdentityTM without killing anyone!

Baby Bads: No one gets hurt in a serious way, but the character is unpleasant. Think: a schoolteacher might not let you go to recess. You might get detention. Examples:

petty theft

general assholery

bullying

lying, small & large scale

general unkindness

minor manipulation for personal gain

Middling Misdeeds: These might cause some harm - physically, emotionally, or otherwise - but there’s some room for smart-talking or otherwise evading major consequences. Think: suspension. Examples:

larger theft and other money-related naughties: money laundering, ponzi schemes, etc

physical assault/battery

blackmail

bribery

large-scale manipulation for personal gain or for fun

hate speech (to be clear, I, JB, think this is way more than middling, but in art as in life, a lot of characters are going to do it and get away with it.)

Terrible Transgressions: The far end of the spectrum of antagonistic behavior. If your character is doing this shit, it shouldn’t be coming out of the blue. If your character is doing this shit, there’s got to be a character-driven reason beyond “flavor.” These are things that would get you expelled and moved into criminal court. A lot of things that are viewed as standard topics requiring a trigger warning fit into this category. 

murder

sexual assault

torture

child abuse

It’s easy in rp, where there are often way more criminal types in a character population than we hope exist IRL, to forget that murder is.... like.... it’s a BIG DEAL. It’s not something everyone has done. And thank dog, right?

If you’re attached to your character being someone’s cause of death, for specific character-driven reasons, you might think about alternatives. For example, if you hope to convey that Brandon Baddie is a callous asshole, instead of having him kill his roommate over a household chores dispute, you might have him drive drunk, hit a pedestrian, get out of the car, see the body, and drive away. If you hope to convey that Sandy Sadist is cruel, you might have her threaten her sister’s dog, but not actually hurt it, enjoying the fear of the sister and of the dog more than she would enjoy actually hurting either. If you hope to communicate that Ruthie Reckless is thoughtless, you might have her driving 100 mph speeding to the edge of a cliff while her father sobs in the passenger seat, stopping just inches from the edge. 

There are so many ways to make a point. If you’re going to kill someone to make a point, do it sparingly, and with very deliberate purpose.

Whether you’re starting your first villain or hoping to hone your villainous sword, I hope you found this tut helpful! Best of luck, and happy writing!

[thegreenwolf]

(This post was originally posted on my blog at https://thegreenwolf.com/its-okay-to-not-hustle/)

There’s this meme going around Facebook right now, saying “If you don’t come out of this quarantine with a new skill, your side hustle started, or more knowledge, you never lacked time. You lacked discipline.” Thankfully multiple people have already skewered it, but it continues to be shared around by the sort of person who is trying to one-up everyone else, or who’s just plain clueless–or, for that matter, just trying to guilt you into buying whatever they’re selling.

Now, there’s not a damned thing wrong with self-promotion. That’s how indie artists, authors, and other self-employed folks get the word out. You have to be able to talk good talk in order to get people’s attention. But leading with this meme? Guilting people for not leaping from sudden unemployment straight into the thick of the ever-shifting gig economy? That ain’t gonna fly, Brocephus.

You Have Good Reasons to Slack

Excuse me while I dust off my counseling psych degree a sec, here. *ahem* We are in a very sensitive, turbulent time right now. We’re in the middle of a pandemic, the likes of which hasn’t been seen in a century in the Western world. We are in a hugely traumatizing situation here. Not just for the financial losses, but the fact that COVID-19 has killed thousands of people and left many more with permanent lung damage. We still haven’t gotten a handle yet on exactly how contagious this thing is, how long you’re contagious for, or whether you’re immune once you’ve had it, assuming you survive. We don’t have adequate testing, emergency rooms estimate that for every positive test there are 10-20 people out there infected and untested, and everyone with a cough is suddenly Schroedinger’s COVID case. Governments worldwide are slow to react in spite of the rising death toll. People have had friends and family die horribly from this thing in a short period of time. Even people who didn’t already have issues with anxiety, depression and other mental illnesses are feeling stressed, strained and scared–and, yes, traumatized. This image is guilt-tripping people who are actively being traumatized.

So we’re already starting with a populace that is dealing with this collective trauma, as well as whatever personal trauma each individual is experiencing. Not always easy to seize the day when you’re going through that. And I can think of a few other reasons that might further complicate this whole “Just get a side gig!” thing:

–They’re a parent who suddenly has all their kids at home, all the time, demanding time and attention and food, AND they still have to work eight hours a day from home, or maybe even more if their S.O. is unemployed/sick/etc. By the way, if someone trots out Isaac Newton or William Shakespeare or some other historical guy who managed to do epic things during a pandemic, remember that they usually had wives or servants to do all the laundry and cooking and cleaning and (if applicable) childcare for them.

–They’re disabled or chronically ill, and don’t have the ability/energy/etc. to just go and make something happen, just like that. Imagine if you just randomly got the fatigue from a really bad flu, and you never knew whether it was going to last a day or a month. And if you tried exerting yourself when you were feeling better, chances are you’d slip back into fatigue-land. That’s what a lot of my chronically ill/etc. friends have to deal with, to say nothing of issues with accessibility of resources for starting a side gig.

–They don’t have any money for the supplies needed to start a side hustle, or the supplies have been hoarded by hobbyists preparing for a Pandemic Staycation.

–They don’t have the skills for something that just requires what they already have (like, for example, writing on a laptop you already happen to own). Often these skills are things that can’t be perfected in a few weeks at home, but may take years to develop before they’re really marketable–like, for example, the skill to make a decent living on side hustles.

–They have anxiety, depression or other mental health conditions that make it hard to function even in the best of times, but even moreso in this…well…mess. Even people who were mentally healthy before are going to be developing diagnosable anxiety and depression disorders before all’s said and done. And speaking from personal experience, those of us who look successful on the outside can still be internally hamstrung by these conditions at times.

–Plus there’s the fact that we’re not supposed to, you know, leave our homes, which narrows down the field of potential side gigs by a lot.

Even doing something less financially-wrought like learning a new skill or subject takes time, energy, and sometimes money, any or all of which may be scarce for the reasons above and more.

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

I am saying all of this as someone who is arguably an expert on the side gig. I have spent the past eight and a half years 100% self-employed (and a lot longer doing it part-time) as an author and artist, able to cover all my bills and expenses, and for a time I was the primary breadwinner of a multi-person household. I have like ten different things I was doing for a living before this all hit, a pretty diverse set of streams of income, even if most of them just up and evaporated in the past few weeks. And while I’m definitely a hell of a lot leaner now than I was a month ago, I still have my head above water for the moment. So I think I know side gigs.

I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m overall healthy. I have a dog who is a lot less demanding of my time than kids would be. I have my own space where I can focus more or less without interruption. More importantly, I have the skills, the knowhow, the drive and the personality to go out and seek new opportunities. And I’m used to fluctuations in income, though admittedly this one’s unprecedented. Don’t gauge yourself by where I am now. I’ve spent twenty-two years building up my art business, my first book came out in 2006, and I’ve had a series of really good opportunities come my way that I had the privilege to be able to make the most of. I am not your measuring stick, so don’t say “Well, if she can do it why can’t I? I must suck!”

If you’re feeling crappy because you aren’t hopping to it and carpeing the diem and getting everything done, here’s what I have to say to you: Look, you just had your world turned upside-down. Job loss, scarce commodities, sudden lack of outside childcare, restricted movement and inability to be around much of your support system, and did I mention a pandemic is happening, too? Any single one of those things would be difficult for just about anyone to deal with, never mind all at once. And I don’t even know what all else has already been going on in your life–unstable or unsafe living situation, other health issues, breakups and other losses, interpersonal conflicts. You know, normal life stuff.

You’re Not Lazy, or Screwing Up, or (Gods Forbid) Undisciplined

It is totally okay if all you’re doing right now is surviving. It’s okay if you feel like you’re drowning, overwhelmed by all that’s happening both on a global level and more personally. It’s okay if all you can manage right now is to get out of bed and stumble through each day a moment at a time, struggling with a tidal wave of emotions. It’s okay if you’re just trying to keep your kids busy, dealing with a crowded home every single day, or trying to keep COVID-19 at bay. It’s okay if, instead of firing up DuoLingo or opening an Etsy shop, you spend your evenings vegging to Netflix or reading a book or playing hours and hours of Animal Crossing.

Not every moment in your life has to be about being productive even in the best of circumstances, and that goes exponentially so right now. Be patient with yourself, and be kind. You may be one of those folks who literally has to spend all their time scrabbling to try to cover the bills or get some leeway from bill collectors, and you have to dedicate your waking time hunting for resources just to try to get through this week. Believe me, I feel for you, I have a lot of friends in that situation right now, and I hope all of you can find some relief and assistance.

May I suggest something? If you have the energy for something more than the bare essentials of getting by, put that energy toward self-care, whatever you can manage under the circumstances. You can use it to recuperate, to rebuild your emotional and physical resilience. That way if things get rough again in the future, you have more internal reserves to build on. If your usual methods don’t work or aren’t accessible due to lockdown, ask others what they’re doing to keep themselves grounded in this trying time.

Just because you have more time doesn’t mean you don’t have to throw yourself right into something productive! Don’t feel pressured to just go-go-go the moment you have a little freedom to move. If you do decide you want to try a side gig, or a new skill, or learn all about some specialized topic of interest, go for it! If you have the energy and attention and opportunity to pursue something new, it can be a great coping skill during this traumatic time. Just don’t pressure yourself; keep it fun.

One last thing: I want you to save the image I have at the top of this post. And then if you see someone post that meme, saying “Come on, you lazy bums, get up and make that side gig happen! Learn new stuff! Do all the things! No excuses!” you pull out this version, and you look at the edits, you remember that it’s okay to be where you are, and you get back to doing things at your own pace no matter what someone else says. (I find visualizing stapling a printout of the edited version to the offender’s forehead to also be therapeutic, but that may just be me.)

Hang in there, okay? It’s going to be a rough time, but you’re not alone, and what you’re feeling right now is shared by so many people. So just let yourself be where you are in this moment, and we’ll see what hope tomorrow brings. And remember that whatever you’re capable of in this moment: it’s enough.

Did you enjoy this post? Please consider supporting my work on Patreon, buying my books here on my website, buying my art and books on Etsy, or tipping me at Ko-fi!

[laceymorganwrites]

Dämmerlicht - Getou´s part

Wortanzahl: 4,049

Warnungen: swearing, bullying/discrimination, MINOR AND IMPLICIT MANGA SPOILERS

Paar: Getou x reader

Masterlist

Taglist: @dixonsbugaboo​ @kenmasgameboy​

Suguru was never sure whether Satoru was the angel or devil on his shoulder, though all signs pointed to the second option.

He just had a way of thinking and seeing things that was too positive for Suguru and sometimes it did get on his nerves.

But then again, Satoru was his best friend, he was used to his antics and attitude.

Outsiders would say he had changed a lot, matured a bit over the years, but Suguru honestly thought it was the opposite.

Sometimes it really felt like he regressed back to being a child.

Especially now that he had the great idea to go out for drinks.

Usually Suguru didn´t mind that, though he was more used to this idea stemming from Shouko.

Maybe he shouldn´t be so suspicious of his friend, but then again, they had neighboring dorms all their life and he was never safe from his stupid pranks.

Not that it was enough to go out for drinks after a tiring mission, no, Satoru also heavily insisted on going to some bar in the very outskirts, so far out of the city that Suguru really asked himself whether he was being toyed with or not.

After an hour of walking he really doubted that place existed.

“Why on earth couldn´t we just go to a normal bar in the city?” he complained, noticing that they were really far up now, who would build a bar on that location and hope to get actual costumers?

“I know the owner, besides, this place is really important. Not only to me, I need you to see this” Suguru just sighed in defeat, why did Satoru always have to have this mysterious act up?

It was to tiring and he already was drained from the mission.

After what seemed to be an eternity they finally arrived.

Or so it seemed since Satoru just stopped in his tracks without any warning, making Suguru stumble into him a bit, only adding to his annoyance scale.

“There´s nothing here. Thanks for wasting my time” he groaned, running his hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face.

“Oh, no, this place. It´s special. Trust me, we´re right where we need to be” Satoru took his arm and dragged him behind him through he hidden curtain.

It always felt a bit weird, especially now in the new location. But that only meant it was safe which was a good thing.

Satoru didn´t want history to repeat itself.

After entering the bar, Satoru greeted everyone while Suguru stayed a bit behind him, looking around.

Sure, the bar was nice and comfortable, nothing special though.

So he thought before he noticed the customers, curses and jujutsu sorcerers were talking like friends, even laughing, discussing the latest news and talking about their days.

“What is this place?” he asked, but before Satoru answered he dragged him by the arm and walked to the backroom.

There he met the owner of the bar who explained everything to him.

“We´re not here for business today though, I just wanted to show you this place and spend some time here” Satoru explained, returning to the bar room with him.

Suguru wasn´t sure what to think about the Dämmerlicht. It was a nice idea, but to him it just felt like a fantastic dream. It was silly to think that a world could exist in which curses, sorcerers and even humans could get along.

He still didn´t know what to think of the latter, but after today´s mission he was more than sure he hated them.

They always got in the way and stuck their noses into things that didn´t concern them. This wasn´t their world after all. And for some reason they still were protected by everyone, it irritated him more than anything.

But this… it could be nice, peaceful even. Maybe with the bar he´d have something to protect besides his friends.

Satoru asked him how he liked it, then kept going on about coming here with Shoko someday before telling him about the first time he visited here.

Meanwhile Suguru was just trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings, failing like he always did.

Why couldn´t there at least be one thing in his life that was easy and clear to him?

Maybe he just didn´t deserve it, maybe the universe was punishing him for corrupting curses and bending them to his will, even though he always treated them well.

Maybe it was because he didn´t share the views of the elders, but then again, who really did?

He couldn´t put a finger on it and it irked him, all he ever wished for was a quiet life.

And to be loved. But… that was highly unlikely to ever happen, so he really focused on acquiring a quiet life.

You just started working in the Dämmerlicht, it was still your first week, but you already got the hang of it.

It was so nice, everyone was kind to you and you wondered why. You were a mere human that got thrown into this life ever since seeing something you shouldn´t have when you got involved in a mission of some sorcerers.

At this point you were supposed to be dead and you honestly thought that entering the bar would mean your death sentence.

Instead you got to know their righteous cause and mission and loved nothing more than to work there.

Sometimes people would even invite you over to their table to talk to you, it did take some time to get used to the curses´ appearances but once you got over that, they were just like any other friends you had in your life.

You didn´t understand the discrimination, you didn´t understand the cruel world they lived in.

Now you made your way over to the table of the newcomers, Satoru was already familiar to you, he came by every day to see the owner and check in on everyone. He had quite the overwhelming personality but he still made it easy to get used to everything.

He sat with a man you have never seen before but judging by their familiarity you reckoned he was another sorcerer, though he seemed to be someplace else.

Satoru had long since stopped speaking, noticing his absence.

“What can I get you?” you asked, smiling brightly at them.

Suguru frowned, why did they let people like you in here? You got nothing to do with their world, you just got in the way and made everything worse.

This didn´t concern you, you had no right, you should just go back home and let yourself be protected by something that you shouldn´t even know existed.

He was annoyed beyond belief, people like you were the reason there were so many casualties in the first place.

“The usual for me, thanks (Y/N)” Satoru smiled.

You nodded and turned your attention to Suguru.

“I don´t talk to monkeys” he told you in a cold tone before you could say anything.

Ah. So he was one of those.

The owner warned you about those people, you knew you were unwanted, after all you had nothing to do with this, but you got thrown into this world against your will too, the only difference was that you stayed out of free will, because you wanted to help.

Still, it hurt.

You expected this dislike from the curses, those creatures straight from a nightmare, but never did you think that sorcerers would be that way.

Then again, this place taught you that nothing´s as it seems.

In a sense you could understand it, they were born into this world, you were thrown into it.

You didn´t know what they went through and you didn´t even fight.

Even so, his words were a bit harsh even for you.

“The same for him, please” Satoru intervened, an apologetic smile on his face, but you just shrugged it off.

You returned to the bar and prepared the drinks, soon after bringing them to the table.

That was your first interaction with Suguru Getou, as short as it might have been, but it certainly wouldn´t be your last.

“I can´t believe they employ those monkeys… honestly. Isn´t it supposed to be a place of freedom? They just bring destruction everywhere they go” Suguru grumbled as they made their way back home.

“You do know that you don´t need to hate all humans to validate your existence? Not all of them are bad, you know?” Satoru sighed, his hands behind his head, deep in thought.

He noticed the struggles his friend faced and he worried.

Satoru has never been good in showing his worry.

“Oh yeah? Maybe it´s easier to hate them though”  Suguru sighed in annoyance.

“Oh it definitely is. But that doesn´t get you anywhere. To be fair we´ve encountered a lot of annoying ones lately, but that doesn´t mean that there aren´t any good ones out there. In fact I like that (Y/N)´s working there, it´s a step to a bright future” Satoru pondered.

“You mean a future in which they´re getting us killed…” Suguru hissed.

“Look… I know what happened back then changed you, made you think badly of yourself. But don´t let your flaws define you. I should´ve talked to you about this way sooner, I´m sorry. It´s just… you want to protect everyone and when you can´t it´s easier to blame others. Cause if you blame yourself you drown in self hatred and can´t function. If you blame yourself you can´t protect anyone. I get that. But it´s still no excuse for your behavior.” Satoru reminisced, ever since that day he thought about what it was that struck his friend so deep that he wasn´t the same anymore.

It made him sad, seeing him struggle. Suguru wasn´t one to hate, he was too kind and warm for that. And he didn´t really hate, it was more of a defense mechanism, but still… he couldn´t keep pushing good people away like that.

Satoru wouldn´t let him make the same mistakes he did.

He just wanted him to be happy and being in your head too much didn´t help at all.

Over the course of the next few weeks Satoru took him to the bar more often and sure enough Getou warmed up to most people.

It was nice seeing him so relaxed, he even made some friends.

However he still treated you like an insect, mostly ignoring you and occasionally insulting you and telling you how useless you were.

Every time Satoru told you he didn´t mean it and that he was going through some tough times and it was okay. But it hurt going to work every day and knowing he´d be there to ruin it.

Usually everyone was kind to you, just like you were. And it really shouldn´t bother you as much as it did, those people always existed, you couldn´t expect everyone to like you.

Even so, it hurt.

Working for the same cause and still not finding a mutual interest. It always hurt being seen as something less, as worthless.

And so you took a few days off work.

In this time you thought a lot. About him.

Were you really that bad? Inconsiderate even? That wasn´t your intention at all. And then you thought a bit more.

Why did you even care? Why did you care what one particular person thought of you? And why did you never say anything against it?

It made you embarrassed by yourself, but it also got you closure.

You wouldn´t let yourself be treated this way ever again. He should be glad not every human was ignorant to the things happening in the dark of night.

With that in mind you went to work again the next day.

Nothing much changed, your boss and colleagues as well as the costumers greeted you and everything felt alright again.

You liked preparing drinks and talking to everyone, it felt refreshing every day and you also felt like doing something important.

“Where have you been, little monkey?” Suguru asked, a bemused look on his face upon noticing your annoyed expression.

Did he like making you dislike him? Maybe that was just his thing and you really thought about ignoring that comment, however you just couldn´t stop your mouth.

“I don´t see how that´s any of your concern, sorcerer scum” you shot back bitterly and the atmosphere thickened.

You could hear Satoru and some others failing to suppress a chuckle, making you smirk a bit.

So maybe you wouldn´t get killed for that, you saw that as a win.

“Oh, so you can bite back! I like it” he gave you a crooked smile and you just went back to cleaning some glasses, hoping he´d leave you alone like he always did when he was done insulting you.

But he didn´t this time.

He stayed put in front of the bar, watching you intently.

You weren´t the only one who used this time to self reflect.

Though for him it was rather forced.

After Satoru tried his luck, it was time for secret weapon Shouko to enter the game.

While Satoru was his best friend, Shouko was always the one to get through to him no matter what. It was scary.

Maybe it was because she bluntly told him he was acting childish and embarrassing himself in front of everyone.

So he decided to stop being an asshole to you, he didn´t expect you to ever react to his teasing.

It was a turn of events he shouldn´t be as excited about.

Because now he didn´t stop teasing you, he only did it more. Though he did make progress and wasn´t straight up rude and insulting.

He acknowledged you.

And Shouko and Satoru saw that as a massive win, giving each other knowing looks.

You actually thought that he´d leave you alone now that you stood your ground.

Frustration was an understatement to describe your feelings when you realized that it only made it worse. So you decided to be the one ignoring him because you really didn´t have the energy nor wanted to waste your time with someone like him who only saw you as a joke.

Suguru didn´t give up though and he didn´t even know why. What did he care whether or not you talked to him? You were just a measly human after all.

He was quite shocked when Shouko told him that he might think more highly of you than he initially thought.

Satoru only laughed at him, telling him to accept it and that having a crush was normal at his age to which Suguru told him to fuck off.

It was rare for him to swear and Satoru never knew whether to laugh or be quiet, he always laughed.

It was just so funny to see him swear, he couldn´t take him serious.

Suguru had a complicated view on all things romantic. For one he didn´t see the point of it, he always believed that it just wasn´t for him.

After all love blinded more than anything, it made you irrational, made you do things you never would normally.

All the things he was experiencing currently, but then again: he was too blind to realize it.

He spent his days denying the fact, having a crush was silly, especially on a human.

Suguru pondered about not going to the bar anymore but that was simply impossible, Satoru and Shouko met up with him there after missions and he found other friends there too.

And… he didn´t quite like the thought of not seeing you.

Though he told himself it was because you were mere entertainment for him.

One on particular day it was the same as every other day, the group was talking among themselves, you brought them their drinks, everything was as usual.

Then your usual banter started. But it didn´t stay casual.

“Why don´t you return to your normal life? It´s not like you´re needed here anyway. Or is it because you´re not needed there either? You know, I´d feel sorry for you if you weren´t a monkey” he smirked at you, a challenging look on his face. He was excited for your witty reply.

“Oh I don´t know…. Why don´t you go back to a life that turned out to be a lie? To a life where you´re a puppet to the elders and kill everything and everyone they tell you to?” you shot back, your eyes dull but full of rage.

Satoru, Shouko, Jougo and Hanami got quiet, but didn´t dare move, afraid to make everything even worse.

“Come on now, those things don´t even concern you. I mean you monkeys don´t even think about anything or anyone else, you don´t belong here. Besides… how are you supposed to help this cause? You´re weak. So why don´t you quit lying to yourself and admit it already? You´d miss me if you were gone, wouldn´t you?” he had the audacity to chuckle.

Satoru carefully looked over at you, he could feel your anger and it was so much more than justified.

Shoko wanted to punch Suguru and teach him decency, she never felt this amount of second hand embarrassment.

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him in disbelief, there was amusement in his eyes, you couldn´t believe it.

“Why the fuck would I miss an asshole who doesn´t have anything better to do than belittle and dumbify me?” were the last words you said to him before going to one of the backrooms to calm down.

From this day on you didn´t serve their table anymore.

Suguru too didn´t come to the Dämmerlicht on his own, he didn´t know how to face you, didn´t know how to handle his mistakes.

He knew he should apologize but he didn´t know how… how could he? Sorry just didn´t cut it this time, and besides, he never was good with apologies.

But as always Satoru and Shouko dragged him with them.

Neither of you acknowledged each other, the atmosphere was beyond tense.

They both kept talking to him, eagerly trying to get him to own up to his mistakes.

It was rough to say the least.

Suguru was overthinking everything, he had the bad tendency to completely distance himself from everybody and everything and let his negative and self deprecating thoughts overtake him.

His friends wouldn´t let that happen. Not this time.

He slowly came to the realization that maybe he really should face his feelings instead of running away from them. And a first step for that was apologizing to you.

So he decided to stay until you closed up, slowly making his way over to the bar to you.

“We didn´t really get off to a good start, did we?” he quietly said after a long silence in which you expertly ignored him.

You almost chocked on your breath and met his eyes after which your expression softened slightly.

There was so much emotion in his eyes that it overwhelmed you a bit, it was surprising, he was usually so good at hiding it.

“Oh really? What makes you think that?” still, you couldn´t help yourself but make a snarky comment.

At least he chuckled a bit, scratching his head in embarrassment.

“I´m sorry… I really am” he told you sincerely, taking you aback.

“It´s alright… I´m sure you have your reasons to dislike me. And I don´t blame you. Just… if you don´t like me, don´t talk to me” you replied, still wondering why he even did.

“Just because I have my reasons to dislike humans doesn´t mean I have any to dislike you. You didn´t do anything bad. Besides… you were right about what you said to me. That I´m just a puppet. But I´m working on that, it´s hard to accept the fact that your whole life is a lie, but who am I telling that?” he smiled sadly and you could tell that there was tragedy in his eyes, a sad story to tell.

And you wanted to hear it. When the time was right.

“I´m not mad at you. Let´s just forget about all this and start anew, alright?” you suggested, your hopeful eyes looking at him.

Suguru felt relieved, you were too kind, he really didn´t deserve you.

“Yes, I´d like that, thanks for giving me a chance… (Y/N)” he smiled and this time it was genuine.

It was the first time he uttered your name and you would be lying if your heart didn´t beat faster, you smiled back at him and you both went your ways.

The next day when he laid eyes on you, he called you over to his table to talk to you.

He was smiling an awful lot, making you smile to, you just couldn´t help it, he was so giddy with excitement it was quite cute.

Over the course of the next few weeks his feelings for you became more than just clear to him, so Shouko was right after all.

Seeing you every day felt like coming home.

He couldn´t deny the way his heart beat faster any longer and the way he was always at a loss for words when he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours.

Suguru would always walk you home after work, talking about more personal things that only affected the both of you.

You helped him realize a lot of things about himself, making him be more open, he no longer hid his feelings and instead let them out in a healthy manner.

He was like a new man.

Satoru and Shouko noticed that he was calmer now, not so lost anymore. You gave him solid ground to stand on, a clear path. He no longer was wondering what was right and wrong but instead accepted the fact that it wasn´t so easy. Instead of letting this knowledge overwhelm him he talked to you and his friends about it, being unafraid to ask for guidance because he knew that he would not be judged.

So this was what freedom felt like…

Usually growing closer to someone would scare him, especially since you two got so intimate that it would have been too close for comfort for him.

But with you it was so easy, it was so easy not worrying and allowing himself to feel, to get lost in your eyes and warm smiles.

Instead of suppressing his ever growing feelings he embraced them, thinking about the best way to confess and ask you out, he even went so far as to ask Satoru, a big mistake as he noticed.

Shouko as always was the one with the reasonable advice.

Advice he took and would hopefully put into practice now.

You took his hand about five minutes ago and he still was processing that, subconsciously drawing circles with his thumb, making your heart beat faster.

“Can I tell you something?” you quietly asked, you were the one to make the first move, though he didn´t realize it quite yet.

“Of course, you know you can tell me anything” he said, not letting go of your hand.

“I think I might like you more than I should and I don´t know what to do about it” you confessed, leaving him a bit perplexed.

“I think I know what you mean. I like you too, though I think it is just the right amount. Or so Shouko told me… she´s more experienced in love than I am” he said, slightly smiling at you.

At this point you two stopped in your tracks, not letting go of each other.

It might not have been the most romantic confession, but it was genuine and heartfelt and that was more than enough for both of you. You felt an incredible relief and happiness once you knew he liked you the same way and so did he.

Shouko told him it was beyond obvious how he felt and that everyone could see it, but even still he was glad that he told you himself.

“Do you want to go go on a date with me tomorrow after work?” you asked, your eyes wide as you looked at him expectantly.

“I´d love to” he smiled warmly and walked you home.

[flowercrown-bucky]

As it turns out, adventuring in the unconscious mind is super overrated.

Fandom: 1970s!Loki Multi-Chapter

Pairing: Loki x ConArtist!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, drug references, later death, later smut, crime, loki and the reader are con artists..... It’s a wild one y’all, hold onto yo’ seats.

.Word Count: Lots

Chapter One

[Something Wicked This Way Comes - Chapter Two] 

Loki’s life on Asgard has become vapid; uninspiring. He’s got the taste for a little danger. During a trip to earth, he finds just the danger he’s looking for.A partner in crime - in every imaginable sense. 

TAGLIST IS OPEN - EITHER COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME TO BE ADDED

Authors’ Note: When I worked as a barmaid, one of my regulars used to refer to his wife as ‘the current Mrs Osbourne’. I always found it funny, and I snuck it in here. 

Also - I’m back. Yipee ki yay, motherfuckers.

You sighed as you slept, your breasts heaving.

Loki turned on his side, running the tips of his fingers over your sleeping form. The thin blanket was draped over you, not quite thick enough to warm your body properly. 

You snored, he had noticed, and it had bothered him to no end. As a god, he was required to sleep very rarely, which left him with nothing better to do than watch you sleep, most nights. 

He was intrigued by your mind. He had never entered a consciousness quite like it before, and the mystery of the contents of the shelves was really getting on his nerves. 

Over the last few weeks, you’d been sharing a room. After all, it was cheaper to have one room and it helped maintain the pretence that you were husband and wife. 

Your system had become fairly streamlined, and you’d become quite comfortable in each others’ presence. Comfortable enough that you’d allow yourself to sleep and trust him to protect you. After all, your body was a powerful asset, and you would rather it remained in one piece. 

Your unconscious mind, however, was a mystery to Loki, and one he fully intended to investigate.  

He lifted his hand, pressing his palm against your forehead. 

He looked around, briefly. It was just ask dark as it had been before, and just as empty. 

He wandered towards the boxes again. What was stored in your mind that you so badly needed to hide? You had revealed everything to him, but not your mind, and that was a concept he really, really struggled with. 

He grabbed at the handle, jiggling it with all his might, but it just wouldn’t budge. 

“I told you never to invade my mind again.” Your voice startled him. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” He spun on his heel. 

“And you are most certainly not supposed to be inside my head, so don’t try to take the highroad with me.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” He repeated, blinking incredulously. “Your body is asleep. How are you not asleep?” 

“Are you broken, or owt?” You raised your eyebrow. “As you can well see, I am not asleep. I find it suits me to be at least partially conscious at all times.” 

“Are you always like this when you’re sleeping?” He eyed you suspiciously, sat once again on your chair. 

During the short period of time he’d known you, he had discovered that you found it very difficult to sit normally on a chair, opting instead for a number of uncomfortable looking and seemingly anatomically impossible positions. It didn’t annoy him as much as had he thought it might. 

He’s asked you about it once. You’d mentioned that you had been briefly employed as a contortionist, but brushed it off whenever he tried to bring it up again. 

In all honesty, it wasn’t the most unusual thing he’d discovered about you. 

“Yup.” You popped the P. “And yes, that does mean that your midnight perving has not gone unnoticed.”  

“I do not perv.” He rested one hand on his hip. “I observe interesting things. You happen to be interesting.” 

“Well, I sure am glad you think so.” You drawled. “Anyhoo, to what do I owe the pleasure of this little midnight intrusion?” 

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s in all these boxes?” He asked. 

“Trust me when I say it is best for our combined safety that I don’t.” You looked straight into his eyes. 

He hated when you did that. The only other person who had ever looked at him was that same intensity was his mother, and she had always had quite the knack for staring straight into his soul. 

Come to think of it, so did you. 

--

Loki shifted his weight in his seat, lifting his eyes from the steadily melting ice cube in his glass to the pair of breasts that had shifted into his line of vision. They were, he noted, rather nice breasts. Large. 

“Another drink?” A smooth voice asked him. 

“I’m good, thanks.” He cleared his throat, waving a hand dismissively. With the assistance of his unique talents, the evening’s entertainment had left him rather better off than he had started. 

To any other man, being dealt a three and a seven as a holecard in your first game of the evening would surely be a bad sign of things to come. But Loki was no ordinary man, and with a little coercion his cards had switched themselves out for a slightly better hand. Never a pair of aces, he had learned, it was much too suspicious. No, two queens were his weapon of choice. 

But, as ever, if you made a man a fool, he would call you a thief. 

It did not bother him much. He had been called far worse.  

He’d had no need for your quick hands and easy deceptions in his games this evening - but you were, as ever, his charming accomplice, as pretty and poisonous as you had been the night you met him. 

His eyes were on you now, and it seemed he was not alone in that. You were slightly distracted as you crossed the room, one hand running through your hair to smooth it. Your carefully outlined eyes had smudged ever so slightly, the seam that ran down your left thigh slightly askew. 

“Really? Him?” He raised one eyebrow as you approached him. 

“What? He’s cute.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Sort of.” 

“Finished?” He continued, holding out his hand. 

“He certainly is.” You raised your eyebrows. 

He pulled a face at you, and you couldn’t help but grin as you reached your hand into the side of your dress. This was, he had learned, your favourite place to keep things you would rather not lose - with the exception of your handgun, of course, which was always either tucked into the band around your thigh or under your pillow whilst you slept. 

He wondered briefly how the hell you explained why you were in immediate possession of a 10mm glock to the gentlemen you entertained. 

A tiny metal key dangled between two of your delicately manicured nails, and he grinned. 

“You beauty.” He held his hand out further to you, palm up, waiting for you to drop it. 

“Tut, tut, tut. Where are your manners?” You teased. “Ask nicely.” 

He stared at you incredulously. You tilted your head to one side, sticking your tongue out mockingly. 

“You are an infernal nuisance, you know that?” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to grab your arm and tug you into his body. You were supposed to be his wife, after all. 

“So I’ve heard. Now, if you want the candy..” You leaned into him, your voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’ve got to play ball.” 

Your lips brushed gently against his jawbone, nothing more than a chaste brush of skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake.

“You know I could just kill you, right?” He turned to you, trailing his fingers down your arm, his own wrapping round your waist. 

“But what would be the fun in that?” You blinked up at him innocently. 

If he wasn’t a god, if he didn’t have so much self restraint, he would be melting in your hands. 

He felt a gentle jingle and a slight weight in his back pocket, followed by the gentle brush of your fingers across his bum. 

“You know, a good fuck would really sort out your little attitude problem.” He mused, turning to face you.

“Nice try, Loki.” You rolled your eyes. “And, well..” You waved your hand at the gentleman who had been your evening’s companion. 

“I said good.” He chuckled. “And by the way, darling, you really shouldn’t touch a man’s bum like that. Leads the mind to all sorts of unsavoury places.”

“You fucking wish.” A very un-ladylike snort left your mouth. 

“Mr Evans, who exactly might this delightful young thing be?” A sharp voice drew his attention. 

He glanced up at the man standing before him. He was tall, taller than Loki, and thin, like one of of those gross spiders you find in the corner of your room. His face was drawn, likely from stress, he concluded . A smattering of whiskers littered his chin, a slightly unpleasant twinkle in his lined eyes. 

“My lovely lady wife.” He smiled, pulling you in to him a little tighter. “The current Mrs Evans.” 

You turned your head in such a way that only he could see you rolling your eyes.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” You turned back to face your company, a tight lipped smile curving on your face. “I do apologise, but I don’t believe we’ve met before.” 

“It does seem that way, so please, allow me to introduce myself.” He took your hand in his own, lifting it to his face and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Roger Slater. I was just chatting to your husband here, not twenty minutes ago.” 

Something about the way he was looking at you made Loki grab you a little tighter. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” He asked, trying to remain as polite as he was able. “I’m sure my fine lady can assist me in carrying a few extra drinks.”

“An old fashioned, if you would, my good man.” His tone was level, his voice smooth. It made Loki cringe. 

--

You weren’t paying that much attention to either of the men before you, so the cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and the sudden sharp tug came as something of a surprise to you. So much so, that you almost yelped in surprise. 

Almost. 

You gathered your composure as you steadied yourself, smoothing down your skirt with your free hand. You weren’t sure whether it was the heels that left you so unsteady on your feet, or the negroni you had necked not five minutes earlier. 

Loki’s hand was tight on your wrist as he led you towards the bar, his fingers icy cold on your delicate skin. Why was he always so cold? 

“Be careful with that one.” He whispered. You opened your mouth to question him, but he had turned towards the barmaid to request more drinks. 

The man to your left wasn’t particularly subtle in his eyeing of you, his gaze sweeping your form a few times before shooting you a smile that made your skin crawl. 

You shuddered, grabbing at the tumbler closest to you and taking a long sip, scowling to yourself. 

“Why the long face?” A look of bemusement settled on Loki’s face - something you found really, really infuriating. 

“These men.” You grumbled. “They talk to me, treat me like a pretty little piece of fucking meat.” 

“That’s because to them, you are.” He shrugged dismissively. “Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Rage bubbled in the pit of your stomach, like an angry, venomous torrent climbing up your throat. 

“Why, you little - hmmmph.” His hand slapping over your mouth cut you short. 

“Might I remind you, darling, that you have a role to play. You shall get your vengeance.” He shot you a sickeningly sweet grin. “But for now, you shall have to grin and bear it, little pork chop.” 

You seethed from behind his hand. 

“Hold your tongue, that’s all I ask of you.” His gaze was earnest. “Will you do that for me?” 

You cast your gaze downwards, nodding your head. 

“Good girl.” He lifted his hand from your mouth, smiling as you glowered at him. He kissed your hand delicately, a brush of his lips across the skin of your knuckles, before holding out his arm for you to take. 

The unusual gentleman, Mr Slater, was, as promised, still waiting for you across the room. He thanked you politely as you handed him his drink, his eyes alight as if something were terribly funny. 

“Are you sure we have never met before, Mrs Evans?” His left eye quirked as he spoke. “You seem awfully familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” 

“I guess I just have one of those faces.” You shrugged. 

“Yes, quite.” He said. “Anyway, I have a rather unusual talent that I often whip out at parties, just as a little amusement. I feel it might interest you both, if you care to indulge my silliness.” 

You glanced across at Loki, trying to hide the bewilderment from your face. He shrugged, holding out his hands. 

“Be my guest.” He agreed. 

You weren’t really sure what exactly you were expecting. Perhaps table top magic - rabbits out of a hat, coins from behind ears, that type of thing. Hell, maybe he was truly psychotic and was going to stab the both of you. 

“It’s more of a childish parlour trick, really, but I have this unusual gift for reading people. Amateur psychology, really, but rather fun.” He grinned at your confused faces. “I pick up little things about people, tells me all sort of things. Secret affairs, family feuds, the yearnings of the heart. Even people’s greatest fears.” 

He paused for a moment, lifting his glass to his mouth. He gathered the drips from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, looking back up at you both. 

You thought it was a real shame he considered ‘people reading’ his greatest talent and not this overblown display of amateur dramatics. 

“The pair of you are a little more enigmatic than most, but I think I could give it a crack, if you would allow me.” 

You nodded breathlessly as he leaned towards you, your heart hammering in your chest. It was almost as if every nerve, every cell in your body was imploring you, screaming at you to not let this strange man come any closer to you. 

Your feet felt frozen in place as his hand landed on your shoulder, his calloused palms like sandpaper against the soft skin of your shoulder. A breath stilled in your throat as his head dipped so his lips were level with your ear. 

“You will kill again, and it terrifies you.” He whispered. “It keeps you up at night, doesn’t it? Not the knowledge of what you have done, but what you know you will do. It’s okay, darling, your secret is safe with me.” 

You exhaled sharply as he drew away from you, a nervous laugh bubbling out of your chest. 

Who the fuck was this guy? 

He winked at you as he took another sip of his drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Loki’s line of vision flitting back and forth between the two of you, looking for any hint of what he had said to you, what could’ve so clearly, so deeply, unsettled you. 

You sure as hell weren’t going to tell him. 

Your eyes followed him closely as he leaned in towards Loki. Unlike you, he maintained his cool composure, but you were fairly certain you saw something adjacent to fear flicker in the back of his eyes. 

Over time, you’d become an accomplished lip-reader, but this time, you felt for sure that your skill had failed you. You’d not picked up much, a single word, in fact, but you knew it couldn’t be correct. 

That word, that single word, that allegedly had Loki witless with fear? 

Himself. 

His hand shot out, grabbing at your wrist, his nails biting into your skin. 

“I’m really sorry, but my wife and I have to leave.” He spat out, turning on his heel, and striding away as quickly as his legs would carry him, almost dragging you behind him. 

You had never seen him this flustered before. His cheeks were ever so slightly pink, his eyes glittering with anger, his chest rapidly expanding with every shallow breath. His grip on your wrist was like a vice, and you felt for certain that there would be the imprints of his long fingers marring your skin in the morning. 

Just before you reached the door, you were fairly certain you heard the unusual man call ‘See you around!’ cheerfully over your shoulder. 

“Who the hell was that?” You asked as you hurried down the corridor towards the lift. 

“I don’t know.” He replied. “Like he said, we were talking when you were out. He owns a jewellery company. I didn’t think he’d try and get to us. Messing with you in that way, saying he thinks he knows you to try and catch you offguard.. It’s certainly unusual behaviour.” 

“See, there’s the thing. I don’t think he was fucking with me there. He looked familiar to me, too. I think I’ve met him before.” You pressed a finger to your lip thoughtfully. “And don’t even try taking the ‘weak mortal’ path here. You were bricking it too, I could see it in your face.” 

“You see what I want you to see, little mortal, and nothing more.” He shot you a glare. “Now, about that key.” 

“We all see only what we’re shown, Loki.” You mused. “Even you.” 

He glanced at you curiously as you stepped into the lift. 

The encounter with Mr Slater had left Loki deeply unsettled. From the very off, something about the strangle man had made him uncomfortable. 

He couldn’t even really work out why. He was, if anything, perfectly pleasant. Polite, courteous, well spoken. There was, at least on the surface level, nothing wrong with him. 

But yet, he was nothing short of creepy. His smile wouldn’t have been any more unsettling if black widow spiders had crawled out from in between his pale lips. 

When he revealed he had a little talent, Loki wouldn’t have been entirely shocked if he’d told him it involved punting kittens. 

He himself was not exactly known for his strict adherence to anything resembling a moral code, and if anything, it made it all the more unusual that he had affected Loki so badly. 

If there is anyone in this world - or any other - to be truly afraid of, it’s not the man who stalks your nightmares - it’s who stalks his. 

He was, however, desperate to know what Roger had said to you. You would, of course, never tell him. Under other circumstances, he would consider subduing you in some way, but from the few encounters with your subconscious mind he had already had, he got the feeling that even then you wouldn’t willingly surrender the information. 

It was this he was pondering as he rifled through the irritatingly mundane belongings of one Mr J Grey. When you’d selected him as your victim of the evening, you’d done so on the premise that he was wearing a very expensive suit, but as Loki was discovering, he hadn’t quite been the man you were looking for. Aside from half a gram of cocaine in a small ziploc bag - honestly, who kept their narcotics in their bedside table? - and a scuffed Barclaycard with yet more cocaine tightly pressed into the embossed numbers - expired, he had checked - he had found nothing of any real value. Knock-off watches, fake leather wallets, poorly made suits, but nothing particularly valuable. 

“Your judgement is poor, darling.” He said. “This man is both immensely dull and revoltingly messy.” 

“I am sorry to disappoint, but we Terrans are a rather messy species.” You remarked. “In fact, we are renowned for it.” 

He laughed, staring down at his gloved hands. You were quite right - humans truly were a messy, invasive little species. A cosmic nuisance, of sorts. He was just glad that, for the most part, they stuck to their own planet. The furthest they had actually gotten was their own bloody moon, so they weren’t exactly regarded as a threat to other species. 

“I think we should cut our losses and get out of here before he gets back.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. 

Loki muttered his agreement, rising from where he knelt on the floor. He was happy to dispose of the clammy plastic that clung to his hands, flinging them into his pocket dimension as he headed towards the door. 

He dropped a throw-away comment as he walked down the corridor, eliciting a true, from-the-chest belly laugh from you. Quick as ever, you responded within a heart beat, but Loki found himself missing your witticism, distracted by a sudden thought. 

Since when did humans start referring to themselves as Terrans?

-- 

TAGLIST:  @chxrryycola @the-middle-oldest-child​ @possessedjoker​ @amour-delicate @marvelouslyme96​

[jay-m3]

Death Note x Male Reader

Warning: read at your own risk. Will contain smut, manipulation, homophobia and so much more.

The class is so boring! I already know English, ugh… You sighed, watching as the teacher goes on and on about God. You look at the book in front of you and trace over the letters to keep you busy. “Listen to the voice of God then follow it and know that in time you will find your salvation.” The teacher reads the line that you're tracing. If God was real...will people change their behavior? You thought, shrugging your shoulders. You’ll find out once you're dead. “Yagami, are you still with us?” You look over your shoulder to see your best friend being called out. “Can you please translate the following sentence into English.” You cover your mouth to hide your snort and quickly look back to the book, not wanting to be called out. Light is smart, no question asked but sometimes you always see him in la-la land these past couple of months. He might be going through the stage like every teen has where they are stressed and anxious about what to do next with their lives since this is their last year here in this dump. Like you! Your anxiety has risen since you don’t know what can come next and if you can make it in this cruel twisted world but thankfully, Light has got your back and has been helping you sort out your life. 

You want to do that too with Light but...he never lets you in. Even if you were best friends since kids, it’s hard to get the boy to talk about his feelings. You know that it isn’t the ‘what’s next in life’ since you know that he wants to be like his dad in joining the police. If it’s not that then what’s bothering him? Is it about his sexuality? He came out to you three months ago that he’s bisexual. It’s hard to accept your true self and sometimes figuring out what you like and are is very difficult. Nothing is easy. Hell, when you came out to Light a year ago, you thought that you were Pan or bi. It’s been rough but you finally know that you’re gay. It’s hard when you came out to Light but you put your trust in him and now you're glad you did since he was accepting and he also came out to you! 

___

“What is that big brain of yours thinking about?” You gave your toothy smile at the tall brown-haired boy. “Huh? Oh nothing, just hungry.” Light smiles at you, his hand rubs his stomach. You nod your head and point at him. “You got it! I’ll buy us something in the cafeteria then, be right back.” You take out your wallet and start to make your way to the cafeteria. You will do anything in your power to make him happy as much as he makes you happy. Quickly getting the food you run to Light who puts something in his bag. “Hey, whatcha got there?” “That was fast, (Y/N).” He says grabbing the chips and water bottle that you got for him. “Hey, don’t distract me. I see you be sneaky and I want in! Is it money?” You both make your way out of the school gates. “Oh, I just found a notebook. Nothing special.” “Bet. Must be someone’s dairy...is it mine?” Light laughs at your joke and shakes his head. “I’ll show you when we get to my house.”

___

“You should start learning how to drive Light. I can’t be your taxi all the time.” You lock your car once Light and yourself get out. “Not my fault you turned 18 first.” ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s probably the one thing that I can beat you with, Mr. smartass.” You both walk into the Yagami household. “I’m home!” Light calls out. Both of you head to Light’s room and you shut the door and look over to Light to see him take out a notebook with ‘Death Note’ written across it. “Okay, that’s something else.” You say sitting down on his neat clean bed. “Yeah, wait till you know what it says inside of it.”

“...if someone does write a name in that book, does that make them a murderer?” You ask rereading the text carefully, flipping the pages. “No way. Either way, it’s probably a dumb prank.” You nod, giving back the cool looking notebook and grab your bag. “Welp, I gotta go home. I have to be there before my mom chews me out for not taking out the trash this morning.” You say, giving Light a hug. 

___

“Tell your family I said hi.” You called out to Light who nods and closes your car’s door. You watch him get inside and start making your way to your work. It’s nothing special but you love it since it's self employed and you love the outdoors. You get out of your car and park it and make your way to a customer’s front door. Knocking, you can hear a dog barking inside and the owner trying to shush it. You smooth down your shirt when the door opens and you see a female with a German Shepherd on a leash. “Hi, here is Lady and I’ll pay you once you return her like always.” She smiles and gives you the leash. “Like always.” You repeat and start making your way to the next house. Being a dog walker has it’s up and down like any other job. But being around the animals gives you peace and watching people go up to you to ask if they can pet them always brings a smile to your face. It’s nice having human interactions other than your family and the Yagami family. Having six dogs always overwhelms you but it gets you paid well. Stopping in front of a shop that has TV's stacked on each other with sound. You unzip your bag and pull out two water bottles and four plastic water bowls, once you get the dogs settled down, you look at the TV's to see that it was the news. 

"The same assailant who attacked 6 people at a busy shopping district in Shinjuku yesterday has struck again, taking 8 people hostage at this daycare center. His captives include both children and teachers. The police have now identified the suspect as 42-years-old Kuro Otoharada, currently unemployed. We expect negotiations to begin immediately." 

Wow, I wonder how this is going to turn out. You tune in more.

"At the present time, that’s all the police are telling us." Newscaster 1 informs.

"You can’t help but feel concerned for the safety of those hostages." Newscaster 2

"You’re absolutely right. We’ll continue to monitor the situation from here." Newscaster 1

"Thank you for that report. What do you make of this, Mr. Hashimoto?" Newscaster 2

"Well, one can only hope for a quick resolution to this situation." Mr. Hashimoto

I hope everyone turns out okay…

"Wait, we’re seeing something here! Looks like there’s movement at the front entrance!" Newscaster 2

"The hostages are coming out, and they all look to be unharmed! The Special Forces are taking action; they're moving in! We don't know if the suspect's been arrested. Huh?... Yes?... Ok, we now have confirmation. The suspect has been found dead inside! I repeat the suspect is now dead!" Newscaster 1 informs. 

“Oh, shit…” You mumbled out, watching on. The whole thing intrigued you but you snap out of it when the dogs start pulling you away. All you could think about how karma bit him back. What a coincidence, really. 

___

You quickly dodge other students from left to right. You’re sure you're not late for cram school because you set the timer on your radio earlier so you can meet up with Light but like always, you’re a little behind in time. Light wanted to talk to you, and said it’s important. ‘ASAP’ his text read which he only uses with you since your ass knows English. Finally seeing the door to your classroom, you sigh in relief and quickly get in, which was a bad idea since you bumped into one of the schools bully, Sudou. You instantly recoil in fear but kept your head held high. “Sorry.” You mumble out, not even looking at him, even if he cursed at your stupidity. One of the advantages of being best friends with the top student that’s also popular with everyone is that no one really messes with you and acts all buddy with you to get a chance to speak with Light. It’s a curse and a blessing. 

You make your way to Light’s desk since the class hasn’t started. You stood in front of it with a sheepish smile when you noticed that he watched the whole commotion. “If he dies, will anyone miss him?” Light mumbles to you which has you scrunching your face in confusion. That was a weird quest-OH! The notebook. Snorting you play along. Leaning close to his face, you whispered, “You shouldn’t kill people you know. You’ll get busted for sure.” Light doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything. A second goes by and you both start to chuckle. Your (e/c)  eyes catch his brown eyes and there’s a glint of life in them. Oh, how you missed that special look. It’s been a while. Your face is close to his… You could feel the warmth rising on your cheeks. Your breath falters and the speed of your heart increases. You knew that you have a crush on Light. You don’t know when it started, you just embraced it. It’s stupid really, you know that Light will never see you like that so you never opened your heart to him. The crush was big but now you can easily ignore it since you trained yourself to quickly exterminate feelings for one. It’s just part of being gay. Falling for people that you shouldn’t. Finding someone else gay is an accomplishment, finding someone that’s gay and have feelings for them is amazing and rare. Especially here in Japan but hopefully it will get better. You only had one relationship with a guy and that was the hardest to maintain since your both were closeted. You’re still in the closet sadly, you want to tell your mother who you really are. 

Light Yagami, the boy that befriended you when you moved here. The boy that found you heartbroken when your ex-boyfriend dumped you. The boy that excepted you when you came out and also told you he’s bisexual. The boy that was there for you when your father and brother got murdered. The boy...Why is he getting closer? Light leans close to your ear. His hot breath tickling your exposed skin which sends a shiver down your spine. “It worked.” His voice low and raspy, which gets your blood pumping when he tries to whisper-wait. “What worked?” You stood straight, tilting your head in confusion. “Kurou Otocharada.” He says which has you reeling back in memories of today and finally connected the dots from the man that died to the conversation you two have been talking about. Your mouth instantly dropped and you look at Light wide-eyed. His eyes bore into your soul like he’s expecting something, your reaction of course. You know that he knows he reads others well by what he knows. He knew you for years and he knows how you react from stuff that he imprinted in his head. This is no different. “How...I want to see.” You slowly say. He was about to say something until the teacher walked in. “Everyone, sit down in your seats.”

You tapped twice on Light's desk with your forefinger. A sign that you both came up with as a secret code for; later, yes, be quiet and your favorite, I’m so gay. The last one, of course, is from you. Light only agreed because it amused him when you both go somewhere and get served by a hot dude when you both decide to eat out. You went to your assigned seat and glanced at Light to see him tap his own forefinger twice. You guess it's either later as conformation or to be quiet. Quickly, you turn your attention back to the front. Light already knows you, you know what Light expects from you. Of course, you will be quiet. 

___

“I’m still in a space in my mind where I can’t believe it.” You say, walking next to Light to a convenience store. “To be honest with you, I’m the same. I need to know if yesterday was a coincidence or not.” Light sighs out, slowing down his pace since your short legs can’t keep up. You can’t help but swallow a lump in your throat that just formed. Is he really thinking to use that thing to actually see if it’s real? If it is then, what’s next? You look at Light from the corner of your eyes and breathe in a shaky breath. Light trusted you by letting you know what he thinks happened yesterday. He trusts you, you should trust him also. “Same.”

“Hey, baby where are you going?” You and Light both glance at a man on his motorcycle with his peers bothering a woman. Light nudges you to the door and you quickly walk in. You split from Light to go to the chip aisle and guiltily pick out your chips. You wish you can help that lady out but the guy has his gang around him. Even if one person steps up, no one will follow. That’s how bad the world is. “Takuo look out!” You quickly look up and see a truck hitting the guy that was molesting the girl at full speed. You gasp and drop the chips and make your way to Light that was standing in front of the magazine aisle. You look over at Light to see his surprise and shocked face. His hands gripping the Death note. Your heart dropped and your breathing came out labored. 

___

“What a nice surprise! I wasn't expecting you home so early.” Light’s mom greeted her son once he stepped into their house.  Light smiles at his mom, the memory of (Y/N) having his family car for the night instead of his mother came to mind. “Yeah. Hi mom, it’s because…huh?” When his mother extended her hands, Light knew what she wanted. “Oh, the results of the nationwide exams.” Light pulls his bag in front of him to fish it out. “I’ve been waiting all day.” She says, excited to see what her brilliant son brought to the household. “Here. (Y/N) says hi by the way.” Light gives his exam scores to his mother and starts making his way to his room. “Goodness! Number one again! These are the highest scores you’ve had. Is it because you started to study with (Y/N) so much?” His mom asks, even though she knows the answer. The last couple of days (Y/N) spent so much time with Light to study and she would hear them, more like (Y/N), laugh. “Yeah. I'm going to study in my room so please don't interrupt me, ok?” Light says, heading up the stairs. “Where is (Y/N)?” Light turns to his mother and tells her, “He took the car to cram school and his mother called she was needed in the hospital for a shift so she needed the car fast.” And with that, he went inside his room and locked the door. 

He immediately grabs the Death Note, grabs a pen and starts writing names down. For a while, he stops and starts to examine the names he has written and starts to laugh. He can’t believe he holds something so surreal. “You’ve taken quite a liking to it.” Light looks behind him and instantly yells and falls down when his eyes meet with a monster. “No reason to act surprised. I am Shinigami, Ryuk. That used to be my notebook. Judging by your laughter, you've already figured out that what you have is no ordinary notebook.” Ryuk, the Shinigami says, watching the human in front of him stand to his full height. “Shinigami, God of death, huh? Well, I’m not surprised. In fact...Ryuk, I’ve been waiting for you.” Light gets up from the floor. “Oh?” Ryuk gave a surprised face, watching the human with interest. “I've already figured out that this Death Note that I've found is real. It didn't take me long. And now that I've witnessed the proof of its power, I only feel more confident in what I'm gonna do.” Light says, taking in the Shinigami in. He never has seen a God of Death. “That's interesting. I certainly wasn't expecting this. Several Death Notes have made their way into the human world in the past, but you're the first to have written this many names. Look at how many people you’ve killed in only five days. Most are reluctant to write this much.” As Ryuk says this, Light is thinking of a male that has pointed out many things about the Death Note. ”I've already prepared myself, Ryuk. I used the notebook even though I knew it belonged to a Shinigami, and now that Shinigami has come. So what will happen to me? You're here to take my soul, right?” 

“Hmm, what do you mean? Is that some fantasy you humans came up with? I'm not gonna do anything to you. The notebook becomes part of the human realm from the very moment it touches the earth. In other words, the notebook is now yours.” Ryuk explains, looking at Light Yagami's lifespan. “This...is mine?” Light asks, surprised that the Death Note is starting to get his life more interesting. “If you don't want it, just give it to someone else. But if you give it away, I'd have no choice but to erase your memories of the notebook.” Light scoffs in his head, who will give up a Death Note? Even if he did, Light knows no one to carry out his plans. (Y/N) might be a choice if Light was there to push him. He knows the other male will follow his lead. “So, then, you're saying I can use the Death Note all I want and I won't be punished?”

“Let's just say this, you will feel the fear and pain known only to humans who have used the notebook. And when it's your time to die, it will fall on me to write your name in my Death Note. Be warned, any human who's used a Death Note can neither go to heaven nor hell for eternity. That's all. Now you have something to look forward to after you die.” Ryuk laughs at the end, knowing well how humans have died. A knock sounded behind the door to his bedroom and Light let out a confirmation that he heard the other person. “Light?” His mother calls him. Light looks at Ryuk to try and figure out how to hide the 8 foot Shinigami. Apparently, Ryuk saw the annoyed look that the human had on his face. “It’ll be alright. Answer it.” Ryuk eggs on, watching as Light slowly makes it to the door. “What is it?” Light asks, making sure that the door isn’t open enough to see the death god in his room. 

“I thought you'd like some apples the neighbors brought them over for us. Why on earth is it so dark in your room? You'll ruin your eyesight.” Light looks over his shoulder in surprise. What’s going on? Mom can’t see him? He didn’t say anything, just grabbed the basket of apples from his mother and shut the door. He places the apples down and sits down on his chair by the computer while watching the shinigami examining the apples. “That notebook you found originally belonged to me, and since you're now using it, you are the only one able to see me, and of course, my voice can only be heard by you. In other words, the Death Note is the bond between Light, the human and Ryuk, the Shinigami.” Ryuk takes a big bite out of the delicious smelling fruit. “Yum.” He says, tasting the juices exploding in his mouth. Light looks at the notebook that was on his desk. 

“I just have one more question I wanna ask you. Why was I chosen for this?” Light looks back at the tall figure only to see Ryuk shoving down more apples down his throat. “Hey, are you even listening?” Light’s jaw clenches. “Apples in the human world are worth the trip. What's the best way to describe these? Juicy?” Ryuk mumbles out, more to himself. “Just answer my question.” Light asks, well more like demands. Scoffing, Ryuk looks at the human, “I didn't choose you. Don't you see? This is all just an accident. You actually thought you were chosen because you're so smart or something? Don't be so vain. It just happened to fall around here, and you just happened to pick it up. And that's all there is to it. That's why I wrote the instructions in English, the most popular language in the human world.” “Then why did you drop it in the first place? You even wrote down specific instructions, so don't try telling me this was an accident!” 

“You're asking me why? I did it 'cause I was bored.” Ryuk answers, not bothered by the human’s anger, more like amused. “You were bored?” Light deadpans, bothered by the shinigami's truth. The mind of the human racks for an answer but all in all, boredom leads to two different things. Happiness or depression. “The truth is Shinigami haven't got much to do these days. Most of the time we're either taking naps or gambling. If you take the time to write names in your Death Note, the others just laugh at you for working so hard. Even if you wrote the name of another Shinigami, it'd be pointless because they wouldn't die. And since we live in the Shinigami Realm, it brings us no amusement to kill those in the human world either. So I figured I'd have more fun if I came down here myself. Anyway, I'm surprised at how many names you've written, but I wanna know why you only wrote the cause of death for that guy who was hit by the truck.”

“If you don't write down the cause of death, the victim dies of a heart attack, and that's probably the best thing about the Death Note, Ryuk. You see, I've already exhausted the list of the world's major criminals, and eventually, I'm going to get rid of them all.” Light answers the Shinigami, not only for the guy that was hit by the truck but for all the names that he written down in the Death Note. “What's the point of doing that?” Ryuk questions, eating all this information up in his mind. “It's only a matter of time before people figure out that these criminals are being eliminated by someone. I want the world to know of my existence. That there's someone passing righteous judgement on the wicked!” Light can feel excitement pass through his body once more. The adrenaline kicking in. “Why even bother? What are you trying to achieve by passing judgement on them? I mean, why do you care?” Ryuk questions further, who knew watching a human do something passionate be so entertaining? “Because… I've been bored too. I wasn't ready to believe it at first, but it's obvious now. There's something about the Death Note itself that makes humans want to try it out at least once.” Light starts to have memories of all the times he just watched people do horrible things. How a boy by the name of (Y/n) got bullied because of his race. 

-Flash back after Taruo’s death-

He remembers how (Y/n) pulls him out of the store and into an alleyway. His mind whirling with thoughts. His body was in a state of shock of not only just the guy that was harassing the lady but also the guy that was holding hostages. “I killed them both. I really… I killed two men.” He mumbles out, leaning on (Y/n) for support. “I...it worked.” (Y/n) mumbles out, disbelief written on his face. “Those were human lives, Light! You can go to jail!” (Y/n) gasps out, letting Light lean onto the wall behind him so he can ground himself. It won't be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgement on others? Uhh… no, no wait. Maybe I'm wrong. This is exactly what I've been thinking about lately. Light thinks, looking over at a shaking 18 year old. “This world is rotting, and those who are making it rot deserve to die.” Light says, getting the attention of the smaller male. “What are you talking about Light?” “Someone has to do it, so why not me?” Light straightens out, catching his breath from the adrenaline coursing through his body. “Light, this is…” He can see the other thinking it over. Can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to see that. “You're sacrificing your mind and soul!” (Y/n) whisper yells, looking at the alley's exit, in case someone hears. “It’s worth it.” Light spits out, watching the fear of the older decrease. “Because the world can't go on like this.” Light ends the conversation, watching the fear clear from his friends eyes and something new awakens Light when the fear gets replaced by amazement. 

-Flash back in the classroom-

I've wondered… what if someone else picked up this notebook. Light scans the room, watching teens his age talking to each other. Is there anyone out there, other than me, who would be willing to eliminate the vermin from the world? If I don't do it, then who will? His eyes land on his childhood friend who gets up from his seat and makes his way over to Light. The (e/c) eyed male slips a piece of paper on his desk, leaning close to Light so no one can see them. He turns over the paper to show letters that form words. Toki Kark… Realization crosses Light’s eyes and he looks over at the short male in front of him. This person is the one that killed (Y/n)’s father and younger brother.

-Flash back in Light’s room-

Both Light and (Y/n) look at the notebook. Both came in here without any conversation. Slowly, Light picks up a pen and writes down, ‘Toki Kark’. He lays down the pen and both pairs of eyes tune on to Light's watch that you gave him for his birthday. That's just it; there's no one, but I can do it. After a minute passes by, Light looks at (Y/n) who has tears running down his cheeks. The older boy gets up from Light’s bed and gets on his knees in front of Light. Hands gripping Light’s thigh, (Y/n)’s eyes met with Light’s. “Thank you, Light… I owe you my life.” The boy whispers out, bowing at the taller man’s feet. I'm the only one who can. I'll do it, using the Death Note, I'll change the world.

-Flash back ends-

“At first, I wrote the names of the worst criminals I could think of. Like I was cleaning up the world, one name at a time, so that eventually no one will ever do anything evil again. And while the truly guilty ones who deserve to be punished for their crimes die of heart attacks, the people who are less guilty but who still make trouble for others will slowly be erased through disease and accidental death. Then and only then the world will start moving in the right direction. It'll be a new world, free of injustice, and populated by people who I've judged to be honest, kind, and hardworking.” Light explains, closing the Death Note. A shiver runs down his back, remembering how good it felt to see (Y/n) on his knees, hope in his eyes looking at him. No one else, but him. “But if you did that, it would make you the only bad person left.” Ryuk counters, watching a gleam cross over the human’s face. “Huh? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a hard working honor student considered to be one of Japan's best and brightest. And I… I will become the God of this New World.”

It's just as I thought, humans are so interesting. Ryuk chuckles to himself. 

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

Logan’s Lowdown’s Typed

A complete collection of Logan’s Lowdowns from the episode. Now in a format that I tried to make readable, but since I threw it all on one post it’s probably still not great.

(13:26) "It would be" directly after Patton says that it'd be unethical to buy frogger when he could be giving money to the homeless

(13:30, said aloud) "It's just me, Logan. I have taken this form because I did not want to be too invasive. (Thomas asks what he's doing) "Well determining what feels right or wrong for you isn't really my area of expertise. Seeing as how there's not much left at stake at this juncture and that regret is unfortunately not an experience that can be expedited. I decided that I need need not expend too much energy on this matter.

(13:50 cont from 13:30) However I felt like it would behoove all parties if I provided relevant information to serve as supporting evidence to any of the arguments that are made during today's discussion

(14:08, after Patton suggested his 'factoids' were optional.) *Facts, factoid was a term coined by Norman Miller to describe false facts invented by magazines in order to manipulate the readers  And yes I suppose they could be viewed as optional, those two options being informed or ignorant (14:35) "Thank you Thomas It-

(14:49-14-50 cont from 14:08) It would be an estimated annual cost of 20 billion dollars to eliminate homelessness in the United States according to Mark Johnston, the acting assistant housing secretary for community planning and development. Americans spend more than 20 billion dollars on Christmas decorations and flowers every year. So it would seem that many Americans do have the currency to spare to end homelessness in America forever

(15:16 cont from 14:50) Similarly if every US household were to give up just 1% of their wealth, than that would be enough to end homelessness in the United States for the next 50 years

(17:18, Roman talking about saving Leslie Odom Jr from the Scute bellied beast) Scutes are the short, wide, rung-like scales on the underside of a snake

(18:38, The difference between helping people out for the sake of it and saving people for a reward.) A study was conducted at Berkeley that looked at the correlation between an individual's happiness and the amount of selfless acts they preformed. This was done by comparing three groups. 

Group A was not instructed to preform any acts of kindness, while group B was instructed to meet the quota of 5 acts of kindness within a week. Group C, however was required to preform all 5 acts of kindness within one day. It was found that groups B and C (both of which preformed acts of kindness) saw an increase in how they rated their own happiness. But the most significant increase was in group C (5 acts of kindness in 1 day.)

(20:43 After the trolley problem scene) That scenario was an illustration of the classic philosophy dilemma, the trolley problem. "Trolly problem" is a term coined by Judith Thompson, who also devised its two most famous variants. The "Footbridge" and the "Switch " (the latter being the version that was just demonstrated.) 

(20:55 cont of Trolley problem) The Trolley problem is intended to raise questions about our moral priorities: is it more important to minimize causalities or is it more important to strictly adhere to ethical rules? (The notion that it is wrong to kill another human being in particular). 

(21:06 cont of Trolley problem) Furthermore the Trolley Problem asks us to examine the distinction between actively killing someone, and passively letting someone die.

(21:57 Patton says the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ of flipping the switch matters) What Patton is saying here ties into the principle of Deontology. Deontological ethics prioritizes specific duties above anything and everything else. A value system that is perfectly summed up in expressions such as, "duties for duties sake" and "let justice be done through the heaven's fall."

One of the duties that Patton's appealing to (which I already mentioned earlier as it is the most common argument leveled against redirecting the train in the trolley problem) is the aforementioned ethical rule that one should not murder another human being, even if one finds oneself in a n extremely specific set of circumstances in which homicide preserves more lives than terminated.

There is a natural tension between deontology and consequentialism, as deontology determines whether an action is right or wrong without much consideration of the ends of said action. Furthermore, the deontologically inclined might concern themselves with the intention behind a given action a given action. (a factor that would be completely disregarded by a consequentialist) 

Deontological perspectives were first defined by 18th century German -

(23:08 Patton asks what real Philosophers would have to say about his viewpoints. Said aloud) Well, Freidrich Niezsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say. Primarily because Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of "putting good into the world". Niezsche famously rejected the idea notion that pity was a virtue. He once claimed that pity 'runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life.' So Thomas is-

{Everything under this point is Janus disguised as Logan.}

(26:54 After Patton suggests that Thomas shouldn’t dedicate too much of his time to frivolity. Said aloud) I have a difference of opinion on this one, Patton. I’m sure we’re all somewhat familiar with the tired metaphor for self care you must put on your own oxygen mask before helping fellow passengers. An analogy that warns against the practice of helping others with their personal issues when you yourself are in need of help.

It is ironic that that illustration’s so overused at this point because it has almost become as easy to tune out that advice as it is to tune out the actual safety instructions on a flight. Easy, and very dangerous. In the event that a plane cabin becomes depressurized, you do not have long to secure your oxygen mask before you risk your oxygen saturation levels dropping too much leading to hypoxia (which is just insufficient oxygen for life functions.)

Hypoxia’s symptoms can include: an inability to communicate, confusion, unconsciousness and possible death. Having heard a piece of information before does not give you licence to ignore it in the future. Especially when the consequences of forgetting are so perilous. 

(28:16, Patton talking about how he’d totally let Thomas self-care in that sort of extreme situation. Said aloud) And just like all of the moral dilemmas we’ve been discussing, it can seem easy to confidently state what you would do in a difficult situation, without knowing how you’d legitimately behave when your instincts take over. 

In theory you believe Thomas can and should take some time to care for himself, but every point you’ve made in this discussion has contradicted that sentiment. 

(28:44 after Roman asks how Patton’s points have been contradictory to Thomas taking care of himself. Said aloud) Nearly every answer Patton has given to moral questions throughout this discussion has suggested that a moral life is a life without spending surplus capital and time on leisure activities. 

Dr. Robert A. Stebbins defined leisure as “... activity engaged in during free time which people want to do and... actually do in either a satisfying or fulfilling way (or both).” Leisure means freedom, its your time and you do what you want with it, which in turn contributes to a feeling of control and improved self-esteem.

 A lack of control, and self esteem are two factors that you all now understand can worsen Thomas’s relationship with intrusive thoughts-- and they have. Additionally, doctors Iwasaki Messina and Hopper wrote that leisure time promotes a joyful life, and if that wasn’t enough pleasurable activities stimulate the production of neurotransmitters which can than improve one’s physical health.

Leisure is something Thomas needs more of in his life in order to feel like he has a life and Patton is essentially suggesting that Thomas isn’t being as good of a person as he’d like him to be if he doesn’t sacrifice himself for others. 

(29:56, after Patton says that isn’t true. Said aloud) Oh, is it not? Please correct me if I’m wrong (Patton says that he’s wrong) So if it was between Thomas’s life or another’s you don’t think Thomas should give his life up? Oh and this other person is an innocent little lamb. Or how about a group of innocents?

(30:40 Patton’s breakdown about not knowing in that kind of scenario what’s right or wrong. Said aloud) You don’t know? Earlier you said that all people naturally understand right and wrong. So? Should Thomas die so that others may live?

(31:32 while Patton’s offering a new Trolley problem with Thomas on one track and Lee and Mary Lee on the other. Said aloud) ENOUGH! This isn’t working. This entire conversation has become so muddled due to a constant misleading, misues of “conscientious” language. You’ll need a sharp side to cut through all this conscientious bull-frog.

{Logan’s back in these lines}

(36:24, Logan’s back! Said aloud) Not that any of you care, but I’m unharmed, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just here to deliver you one last fact than I will do you all a favor and spare you my company.

Peter Singer is an Australian Philosopher and activist who champions the movement known as ‘effective altruism.’ The primary feature that differentiates effective altruism from other moral philosophies is its practicality. It employs the heart AND the mind so that effective altruism can earn its namesake and actually... Be effective. 

The aim is to help as many people as possible while maintaining a ‘perfectly adequate standard of living.’ So a poor, sick person giving 5 of their last 15 cents to an aid organization, while incredibly altruistic is not effective altruism because that money won’t go very far. And the act would only harm that person’s already unacceptable standard of living. 

Fellow effective altruist Williams Macaskill recommends people who can and are inclined to should go into fields like banking or finance because more money earned means more money to give. (After Thomas adds that he needs to give himself a buff) And you need to maintain an adequate standard of living. You can’t forget that part. If the variety of generosity in your life is leaving you depressed, or like your life isn’t your own than you need to reevaluate things. 

[sepublic]

Regarding Hazbin Hotel’s themes of Redemption

           Okay, this may be a controversial suggestion, but you know one thing I’d REALLY like to see Hazbin Hotel do? I’d like to see it take the whole idea and message of ‘Even the worst of the worst deserve a chance to change themselves, and that anyone is capable of becoming a better person’ and actually… go through withand explore it.

           Like, I don’t want all of the characters who get redeemed to very obvious, blatant choices where you can immediately tell, “Oh they’re actually a good person deep down inside!” Because when it comes to the idea of redemption, Hazbin Hotel’s core theme, that’s neither interesting, nor THAT much of redemption. The inherent goodness is already clearly there and a part of them, and if left to their devices, such characters, like Angel Dust for example, would definitely be good people.

           The thing is- This is HELL. This is where the worst of the worst come, this is rock bottom after you’ve taken an excavator and dug down a few miles. It’s easy to look at a Demon who clearly has good tendencies otherwise and was mostly bad by circumstance, and say, “Let’s redeem that person! It will be SO revolutionary to see that person redeemed, even though they’ve already been clearly set aside from the rest as naturally good!” I want to see the show try to redeem ACTUAL bad, terrible people.

           Which, gets into the controversial part- I want to see the kind of people who choose to be terrible, who choose to be cruel and kill, end up getting redeemed. Because the thing about redemption is, you don’t naturally deserve it- That’s antithetical to redemption. It’s not some gift just prescribed to a person beforehand, it’s something that’s earned, painfully, through trial and error. Because like Charlie said, EVERYONE deserves a second chance to be better, and even if that person was a bigoted abuser… If they decided they want to change, then they should be given the chance to do so.

           Now, I’m not saying EVERY character should just be redeemed. I’m not saying every horrible demon should have good values and a change of heart handed to them on a silver platter, nor do I want any of them to be forcedinto changing, so to speak. I’d rather not see Charlie kidnap random Demons off the street and forcibly torture them into changing their habits (Now, Lucifer’s order having to imprison a Demon to keep them from doing further harmful actions, THAT’s fine and acceptable, as is self-defense). But what I’d like to see is a nuancedtake on the idea of redemption, that actually explores this idea instead of carefully poking the surface with the tip of the toe and then saying, “Well I’ve done all I can do!”

           Because when a demon chooses to redeem themselves… It’s not going to be pretty. It’s going to be uncomfortable, arduous, difficult, and excruciating. And yet, if one is so fixated on justice, perhaps this is the best course of action? It’s easyto just be awful and never change yourself, that’s why Sloth is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. But actually stepping back and evaluating yourself, confronting yourself, living with the results of your mistakes and their implications, forced to feel consequences instead of just dying to escape it all? THAT’s real justice. It’s painful for the demon, but also the BEST possible option for them too.

           By the end of the day, isn’t it in everyone’s best interests for everyone and anyone to become better? To lessen the amount of pain in this world? And it’s not like punishment can’t keep existing, either- It’s not a black and white choice between getting off scott-free, and dying permanently with no option of ever becoming better. A character can still be punished for their actions, while still working to change.

           And, yes- Some people won’t change, and maybe they never will. But the thing is, this isn’t regular, real life in the living world, where people have limited lives and resources and better things to do. This is Hell, this is rock bottom, THIS, of all places, is the place and time to start working on rehabilitating the worst, because what else will you do? What else would be the purpose of Hell, besides endless, meaningless pain? Infinite punishment should not apply to finite crimes.

           Likewise, even if some people will never change… It should always be made availableto them, the option to change- Just in case. The chance should always be ready, 24/7, eternally. And I know this may sound incongruous with what I said earlier, about how I want to see a character get permanently killed off by an Exterminator weapon… But really, such an event, I feel, would further highlight how important it is that rehabilitation and redemption be made readily, conveniently available at all times! Because life in Hell IS unpredictable, and it CAN be finite, and a permanent death would be a good way to really hammer in WHY Charlie is so insistent on giving these demons a chance to escape their fate. There’s an urgency to the Hazbin Hotel, because if people don’t start investing in it and making it available as soon as possible, people who could have changed will die and lose that chance they might have taken.

Now, I’m not saying every terrible demon, if any of them, should be forgiven- Absolutely not, and especially not by those they’ve hurt. There’s no obligation to forgive them, so even if it is an option that’s taken within the show, I’d still prefer if it was made clear that this was a choice by the victim, not by the abuser. Because a person who’s hurt others doesn’t automatically deserve forgiveness for making an effort- If anything, forgiveness is impossible. But just because you won’t be forgivenfor something, doesn’t mean you can’t change your behavior from then on- Because the crime being unforgivable is precisely WHY one would change their behavior! Because that behavior never was okay to begin with! If some terrible demons are redeemed, and it should be made clear that the bad things they did will neverbe forgiven, and that’s okay.

And of course, the Hazbin Hotel should be allowed to employ self-defense. It should still be allowed to fight back against those who may seek its destruction, because self-defense is okay, and if it hurts the attacker, then I don’t want the narrative to blame the victim for defending themselves. If a victim remains eternally hateful towards their abuser, then even if that abuser changes, even if that victim is also redeemed too… I still want that victim’s hate to be valid and accepted. Because earning redemption isn’t about making people like and forgive you, it’s about changing yourself. Those people don’t owe you anything, but YOU owe yourself a lot, and owe them a lot as well.

Again, some people will never change- But then again, never say never. Yes, redemption is a choice, and that part should also be emphasized… But redemption should also be made possible and available. The worst of the worst should know that it’s possible to try for it, while still being held accountable for the time they took to do so. Likewise, I’d really like to see the Hazbin Hotel’s teachings spread a lifestyle of being kind to one another, because when people are kind to one another, offer comfort and support, and so forth, you’d be surprised at how much a stubborn mind will yield away to that.

Of course, I don’t want said support and love to be forcedonto a demon, and have their personal autonomy violated. Sometimes you have to respect that they want to be left alone. Likewise, just giving someone a bunch of love and support won’t automatically change their mind, and I’d like for the show to remind the audience this… But at the same time, it can soften circumstances and make it morelikely for a demon to consider redemption, depending on the demon and their flaws in question of course.

I just… think this is kind of take on redemption would be infinitely more unique and intriguing than previous, rather vanilla takes on it. What happens if the ugly, generic war criminal mook who’s happily killed innocents, suddenly realizes they want to change? Or they’re suddenly exposed to love and support, and they look at those kind of lifestyles and realize that’s just so much NICER than what they’ve been doing… What if someone truly understands and sees that others are PEOPLE, just like them?

The closest I’ve seen to this kind of take is Steven Universe, which is amazing, but also by itself. Likewise, I’m also afraid that if Hazbin Hotel DOES go in this direction, it’ll be accused of ‘forgiving abusers’ and being ‘sympathetic to genocide’. I’d rather not want another SU Critical situation, but at the same time, I suppose such a thing would be inevitable. I think I’d rather see Hazbin Hotel actually try to explore REAL redemption, not just “Oh this ‘bad’ person just needs to be told it’s okay to be good and then they’ll be good!’… I want effort and actual change. And I think witnessing that in action far outweighs the cons of some people misinterpreting the message in bad faith.

After all, Demons have literally all the time in the world, assuming they avoid extermination, to change. So let’s see what happens when, after an eternity, a demon realizes their existence has become dull and bleak?

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: PG Warnings: Swearing, Homelessness, Minor Nudity Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now) Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts, Thor(Marvel), Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, This First Chapter Is Mostly Setup, Bear With Me

Summary:  A homeless drifter enters a building, and wanders into a new life.

It was starting to get warm again. The danger of freezing to death on the streets was passing, but that meant a new danger approached: people. More people out and about meant more opportunities for you, but more danger as well.

More people meant more to beg from, but also more people that would be willing to hurt you in some way or another. It also meant more competition from other street people, who you knew from experience, absolutely were willing to hurt you.

You were surprisingly good at surviving out here on the streets. It wasn't ideal, not by a long shot. You suffered, you shivered, you starved, just like everyone else out here. But you didn't get sick as much as the others, you always seemed to know the best places and targets for begging. You were still relatively young, and could feign cuteness.

Most of the people out here were betas. Alphas didn't generally end up homeless, and Omegas were usually snapped up before it could happen to them. Just another example of social inequality.

You were no Omega, but you had the same, strong sense of smell. It helped you avoid danger sometimes, and choose begging targets-mostly Omegas, who were soft. Your dumbass, prepper parents had at least taught you some useful survival skills: climbing, rough shelter, even what weeds could be eaten. Sure, you weren't supposed to eat things that grew close to roads or buildings, but you were also eating literal garbage sometimes, so you were in no position to worry about that.

While the city center wasn't your usual haunt, with its hostile architecture, and its increased police presence, you had accidentally fallen asleep on the subway, and this was where they had kicked you out. It was a long walk back to the suburbs you liked to hide in, and you really had to pee.

The Avenger's Tower Museum was a landmark now, and a tourist trap. It was easy to slip in and find a restroom. With everybody so caught up in learning about famous heroes, no one paid attention to a random patron, even if she was dirtier that the usual visitor.

You knew the Avengers had a separate training compound somewhere out in the countryside, but that they could sometimes also be found here. You knew Tony Stark, in particular, had moved back to the upper reaches of the tower, after his house had been blown up. Perils of being a superhero, you supposed. You hoped they weren't here today. You were going to take advantage, and it felt a bit wrong if the heroes were here.

The bathroom was big, and the stalls were spacious and sparkling clean. You felt like a mud smear on the immaculate walls. Well, that was okay, you were hoping to take care of that problem, at least a little bit.

You hid out in one of the stalls, stripping your shirt off, but leaving your jacket on. You'd done this a few times before, and it was always risky, and took forever, but you had to clean up somehow.

When there was no one in the bathroom with you, you rushed out of the stall, soaked your shirt in the sink, wrung it out slightly, then dashed back into the stall. With the door locked behind you, you stripped off your bra and jacket, then began scrubbing yourself with your wet shirt. Darting back out, you got some soap, and rubbed it all over yourself back in the stall. You cleaned your whole body this way, drying yourself off with your sweatpants.

Now for the hard part.

Partially dressed, you soaked, soaped, and scrubbed each article of clothing in turn, hanging them around the stall to dry. This part took forever, and was extra risky, but it wasn't as if you had anything else to do today, and you didn't get the opportunity to clean your clothes very often.

It proved to be too risky. Someone must have noticed that you were acting suspicious, because the next thing you knew you were being hauled, half dressed, out of the bathroom and across the main floor. They were actually going to toss you out on the street without even all your clothes on!

“Oh hey, what do we have here?” Someone asked. It was a voice that didn't seem used to being ignored.

“Just a drifter, Mr. Stark. We caught her shooting up in the bathroom.” One of the security guards said. You both bristled at the total lie, and sank at the sound of the mans name. You hadn't wanted any of them to see you.

“I was not!” You protested. “I was washing up! There's nothing against the law about getting clean!”

“Is that why she's naked?” Stark asked, a little incredulous over what he was seeing.

“I was drying my clothes, but they pulled me out of the stall before I could get them back on.” You grumbled, not expecting anything to come of it. Maybe he would get you your clothes back before you were tossed out. Otherwise, you would be needing to dig around for a pair of pants.

“Seriously? All those training videos I pay for, and you really think throwing a half-dressed woman out on the street is part of acceptable procedure?” Stark snorted. “No, no, no. You-” He pointed at you with a flourish of his hand. “Come with me. And you two get ready for some sensitivity training sessions.”

He led you away from the security guards and staring tourists, into the back hallways used by staff. It vaguely occurred to you that you ought to be distrustful of being a homeless, half-naked woman practically alone in a hidden hallway with a powerful man, but...well, he was Iron Man. Yes, he had a reputation as a former womanizer, but no one had yet come forward to say that any of it hadn't been consensual.

Besides, if he really was like that, Mrs. Potts probably would have torn his spine out through his ass. As Alphas went, she seemed the very no-nonsense type. Maybe not arrogant, so much as not willing to put up with much in the way of shenanigans. Perhaps she'd chosen the wrong mate. Or perhaps her influence kept him from getting into even more trouble than he already did.  

“Were your clothes dry? Do you want me to send someone to get them?”

“Nah, they were still pretty wet. I was just gonna put them on and leave. I really wasn't doing anything wrong, seriously. I just wanted to wash up and get out. Didn't wanna bother nobody. But they are still hanging in the stall, so someone oughta get them.”

“Okay, can do. Here.” He tapped a code into a pad, and a closet door opened up. Peeking inside, you saw a lot of very organized janitorial equipment, including carts, vacuums, waxing machines, and uniforms. Stark pointed at those. “Get yourself some pants, please. I feel like a sleazebag here.”

You grabbed some pants as he turned his back.

“Get yourself a shirt too. And one of those vests. And a hat.” He said, and you did, putting on the new clothes. “I swear, my whole security team makes me look like some kind of tyrant. They're so severe! I mean, I guess that's what I should have expected, hiring on former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. But they needed jobs after Nat dropped that truth bomb about HYDRA all over the internet...You knew about that, right?”

“Yeah, I think squids living under a rock at the bottom of the ocean even heard about that.”

“Well, they're good people, mostly, but they're just so serious. They had to be, to do their former jobs, and they just brought it with them into this job. It doesn't occur to them that tossing a naked lady out onto the street makes me look really bad, and isn't very nice to you either. Even if you were getting high in the bathroom, I don't really care. I'm not perfect, I've indulged in the occasional magic brownie. Can't judge. Grab that cart will you? Wall chart says it's about time for that bathroom to get cleaned.”

The man was an absolute chatterbox, and you had your hands on the cart before it registered that he had even said it. Was that how he always got his way? You were no Omega, and he was no Alpha, but he was powerful nonetheless, and he overwhelmed you with words. You just found yourself doing whatever it was he said.

You followed him out to the bathroom, fully dressed, and dragging the cart behind you, expecting to collect your wet clothes and leave.

“Now, don't forget to put on your gloves, and one of these masks here, so you don't breathe in the cleaners. You know,” He said at your bewildered glance. “Since you like cleaning things so much.”

“U-um...”

“Code's twenty-four thirty, check the wall chart for what's next. You can read and write?”

“Yes...?”

“Great! I'll get an application sent to you at the end of the shift. Have fun!”

He strode off into the crowd without a second glance back, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you deeply confused, hopeful, and just a little repulsed.

You had a job now, it seemed. All of a sudden, you were gainfully employed. He had the power to completely reorder your life on a whim. That was terrifying, but also an opportunity you didn't want to let slip. If he was feeling generous, you would take advantage of it.

You put on a pair of gloves, and slipped a paper mask over your face. It was time to go to work.

                                                                                                                                                  *****

This was a little harder than you had thought it would be. Since you hadn't done this before, or gotten any training at all, you were mostly just guessing what cleaners to use, and what proper toilet cleaning procedure might be. You weren't sure how to open the automatic paper towel dispensers in order to put in new rolls, or where to put the wet floor sign when you mopped. Also, people kept coming in and ruining your work, though you supposed that was part of the point.

It took about an hour for you to get the whole place scrubbed, restocked, and shining. You had cleaned every speck of dust or dirt, and paid close attention to every tiny detail. That ought to be satisfactory.

You wheeled the cart back into the Employee's Only halls, only to be stopped by a tall, frowning woman.

“Who are you?” She demanded. “Who told you you could take this cart?”

“New hire.” You said, hoping she would see that you were busy and let you go on your way. You didn't like the look of her.

“I wasn't informed of any new hire!”

“Very new. Just came on this morning.”

She grasped the cart, stopping you in place.

“I run the janitorial department. I wasn't informed of any new hire. I'm notifying security.”

“Mr. Stark brought me on himself!” You protested. “Just this morning! It was real sudden, but that's what happened.”

“Bullshit. I'll just ask him directly, shall I?” She whipped out a very smart looking phone, and pressed a single digit on its nearly flat face.

A minute passed. Dragged. Stretched. The woman's' frown grew deeper, and you struggled to refrain from sarcastic comments about her perceived self-importance.

Finally, the phone picked up.

“Yo.” Came Stark's bored voice.

“I've caught a vagrant in the D-3 hallway. She's either trying to steal or to spy. She says you personally hired her this morning.”

“Huh? Who?”

Your heart sank. Seemed like the game was over.

“Oh yeah! She's our newest janitor. Real passion for cleaning.”

“Wh-really? But sir!”

“Don't worry. Florence. Didn't you just send me an email suggesting you were short-handed since Anne got married? Well, there you go! Problem solved, and almost immediately. Get along now. Bye!”

“But-” The phone went dark again. You were honestly surprised he had answered in the first place. The man was a billionaire, on top of the world, a hero and one of the most famous figures mankind had ever known. Smash together King Tut, Einstein, and Elvis, and the resulting super-person would still have nothing on the fame of Anthony Stark. And 'Florence' here was a grump who seemed to think a bit too much of her own importance.

She glared at you. You shrugged.

“Fine. Show me what you did.”

You took her to the bathroom, proudly showing off your sparkling work.

“So you took this cart at nine fourty-six, and have only gotten back now...it took you an hour to do this?”

You weren't completely in love with her tone.

“Where did you get your training?”

“Uh...”

“Thought so. He just grabbed you and tossed you into this didn't he? Look, taking a whole hour to clean one bathroom is not going to cut it. This building is ninety-three floors, and each one has several bathrooms which, incidentally, will not be the only things you will be expected to clean. You will have to speed up.”

She glanced around. “I see what you've done here. You've scrubbed literally everything. Behind the toilets. The underside of the sinks. The trash cans. You can't do this every time. It'll just take too long. You need to learn the basics before you start doing all the extra stuff.”

Well that was new. Getting reprimanded for doing your job too well.

“Come along. We'll do another bathroom. I'll show you the basics.”

You followed her out of the bathroom and into the hidden halls.

“We don't go wheeling the bathroom carts out among the museum tours.” She lectured. “Even though we are cleaners, anything associated with toilets becomes associated with filth, in the laymans eyes. There are maps here and there, but if you think you're going to work here, you'll get the layout memorized quickly.”

You spent another hour and a half learning basic bathroom cleaning techniques. This was apparently what you would be spending most of your time on. Every bathroom on the ten museum floors was scheduled to be cleaned once per two hours, and every bathroom on the dozens of office and lab floors at least three times per day. You would not be alone in doing this task, but since, as had been pointed out, the janitorial team was shorthanded, you would have to do many of them, and you would have to learn to do it fast. Florence didn't seem terribly convinced that you would be able to.

She sure had a lot to say about you; carefully cloaked jabs at your appearance, hygiene, and intelligence. She even seemed to insinuate that you smelled bad, on the elevator up to the highest level of labs that you would be given access to. You felt that was rather unfair; you had technically just washed, and you were even wearing fresh clothes!

Upon disembarking the elevator, Florence led you to each of the bathrooms on the floor, and you glanced into the labs. Away from the museum, you didn't have to sneak through hidden halls to avoid being spotted by the general public, and could see what was going on around you.

There was a lot of...very sciency stuff going on in those labs, and you didn't understand a lick of it. But it might be nice to learn sometime.

A loud, but faraway sound penetrated the lab, like a roaring wind. You'd have guessed that it really was nothing but the wind, rushing around the building, dozens of floors higher into the air than you'd ever been, except...

Except that everyone, Florence included, paused in what they were doing, and looked toward the ceiling. As if they'd heard it before, and knew it heralded something. One man, far down the hall, left his lab and booked it to another elevator.

“What was that?” You asked, mildly nervous.

“Nothing we need to concern ourselves with.” She answered. “We should go back downstairs. Khalil should be getting in soon; I'll have him show you how the floor waxers work, and where the box and trash compactors are, while I scrape you up an application, and get you entered into the system.”

As she led you away, a column of prismatic, screaming light faded from a special platform, far, far above you, and two people stepped onto the very top floor of the tower.

[mintjamsblog]

Hi, I love how you write Alfie and Tommy (especially your Alfie POV fics), you've got his voice so right! I wondered what you think Alfie's relationship is? Like has he slept with men or women or both? Has he ever had a serious relationship? With who? I don't know whether I sent this ask already, so sorry if I did! Thanks

Thank you, I love writing Alfie so I’m glad you think I’ve got his voice, he’s certainly complex! But I have a lot of feelings about his relationship history, so here goes…(bear with me…)

Alfie Solomons relationship history (headcanons)

He’s always been an outsider. Even as a kid in Camden Town. Not only was he Jewish and fatherless and a loner by nature, but his brain worked differently too … he made connections quicker than most.

The great advantage of being an outsider was that it made him an excellent observer … not only of situations but of people. And what his observations told him was that most people were greedy and selfish and cowardly and almost always less intelligent than him. Consequently he finds very few worthy of his time and even fewer worthy of his actual interest.

He knew from early on that he had an eye for men – but also that it was a danger, a weakness. He slept with a couple of women, paid them, just to try it, just to confirm that it wasn’t really for him. And he’s had very little to do with women ever since, not that he has anything against them, they simply don’t feature heavily in his life. There was his mother of course, who he respected, loved, but she didn’t coddle him, she was always working, always busy and expected him to be too. And there is his maid, Edna, who he appreciates greatly but she doesn’t live in (because he likes his own space thank you very much). There are very few women in his line of work and none at the bakery (even his office staff are men). It suits him fine. He’s not scared of women in any way, but he does have a sense that there’s more trouble when they’re around. Usually caused by men.

He’s spent most of his life on his own, fully accepting of the fact that he’d never have a conventional set-up, a marriage or kids. He’s always been selfish, grumpy and busy enough not to care, plus it’s just easier on his own. Life is less risky when you only care about yourself and it gives your enemies less leverage.

That said, he’s not without desires…but he’s always known where to get his kicks. It’s easy enough to find the right kind of men if you hang around the right kind of places (the docks, canals, certain movie theatres and clubs).  But it has always been pretty transactional, a fix, a release, and necessarily secretive. 

There was someone once. In France. He developed an affection for a soldier in his ranks – a bright, intelligent, innocent lad from south of the river. He had wit and ambition and a thirst for life that Captain Solomons found captivating. It was reciprocated for a while too; might even have made Alfie believe that there could be something more for a man like him – something beyond just sex. But the war put an end to it, the lad was killed a year before armistice and that was that. It only reinforced Alfie’s sense that feelings are a weakness, that warmth is fleeting and generally snuffed out by people or events outside your control. So when he came back he closed the door on the whole episode, locking love in the same sealed box as war in his tidy mind. He saw little point in keeping a lid on his volatility after that either. 

Once back in Camden he figured he’d just take whatever life offered him and trample anything in his path. He reverted to the old haunts to get his release, although with increasingly less satisfaction – whether the men are actually getting younger or it’s just that he is just getting older he isn’t sure – but it always feels slightly inadequate. Still, sex is a necessity, a commodity to be bought when required. 

His increasingly unhinged persona (which he carefully cultivates) means that people tend to stay at arms length, so the chances of sleeping with anyone other than those he pays, well, they’re extremely slim. And if anyone did approach him he’d most likely assume it was a trap, because being gay in Camden in the 1920s leads to a necessary level of paranoia (to which he is naturally prone anyway). 

He is not a people person. People just frustrate him. Waste his time. Take too long to catch on. Which makes him liable to fits of temper and frustration and unpredictability. Which just exacerbates the whole ‘insane Jewish gangster’ reputation and makes people steer clear. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle (and one that suits him very well, thank you). 

Consequently no one has EVER spent the night in his house or his bed. EVER. Generally this suits him absolutely fine, but occasionally there’ll be a certain dream (about the lad in France, or his mother’s death) that will make him crave some human contact…a warm hand on his shoulder maybe. On those mornings he will occasionally share breakfast with Edna, make her stop and sit and drink tea with him. 

But then he meets Tommy. And he can’t help but be interested. Because despite the fact that he is a cocky little upstart from the godforsaken city of Birmingham he has a rare combination of qualities that rouse admiration in Alfie.  He’s wiley and quick and absolutely sure of himself. 

And, well, he looks like that. It’s kind of hard not to notice. 

Alfie is thoroughly intrigued but also actively annoyed by this. Because he also has this strange and unwelcome impulse to want to look after Tommy. He’s only little afterall, and far too brave for his own good and he just walks around rubbing people up the wrong way and, well, looking like that. Stands to reason he’s going to get himself in trouble. And Alfie absolutely shouldn’t care if he does, and yet he can’t help it. He finds Tommy Shelby creeping into his thoughts at the oddest and generally most inconvenient of times. 

Everything was far, far easier when he didn’t feel like this. Because feelings only cause problems, and he has enough of those. So he tries very hard to not notice Tommy Shelby. When that doesn’t work he tries very hard to focus only his most irritating attributes. His constant smoking, drinking, eye-rolling and weird reliance on his fucked up family.

But then Tommy nearly gets himself killed (again) by the priest and finally, Alfie just can’t help himself. Has to step in, tell Tommy what’s good for him, take some control – because of course the silly boy is never going to realise that’s what he needs. But then he wasn’t banking on Alfie. 

Once he’s admitted to himself that he wants Tommy there is really no going back. Because Alfie Solomons takes what he wants…it’s a process of accumulation. He is ruthless and relentless in his pursuit and happy to employ any method of coercion necessary.  His uncanny powers of observation allow him to see things in Tommy that others might not. It unnerves Tommy, he knows that. In the end it’s a combination of taking away Tommy’s power and giving him the best sex of his life seems to work.

In bed Alfie is surprisingly selfless, if you can call it that, because he’s not actually trying to be selfless, it’s just that he fucking gets off on making Tommy lose it … lose control … lose himself. The only way Tommy can accept any pleasure or affection, so it seems, is by being forced to. By having his power taken away. Which given that Alfie likes nothing more than to be in control suits everyone just fine, thank you very much.

And now Alfie can’t imagine not wanting to do what he and Tommy are doing for as long as is humanly possible. Or until Tommy fucks off for a better offer at least. Which is bound to happen, let’s face it. (Because he looks like that after all).

[literalbuzzkill]

Below I'm gonna vent so y'all can ignore that XD

I'm basically making this post as a timestamp/reminder for myself about Covid2020 and what I had to deal with during it (even though it's still a relentlessly ongoing problem, as of Jan2021, yikes)

Below is my personal experience in switching from working everyday as an essential retail worker to now a stay at home unemployed/leave of absense person. Don't feel bad about not reading it, it's long, boring, and I can't really expect anyone to actually be interested because the struggle is real and who wants to be reminded of the grim reality we can't currently escape? XD

[The Start:]

I was still working retail up until a few months ago because most people left. And being short staffed already before covid at my store, things became an even worse unmanageable nightmare because they started to work the remaining staff to death because no one really knew what to do which sucked and everyone was rightfully afraid of what was happening all around them, plus everyone internally was hoping that this would all blow over in a decent amount of time and we could all return to normal and never speak of it again. Considering Covid started around late January/early February in 2019 and today's date (for my future reference) is Jan 4th 2021, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it certainly has not blown over in a decent amount of time like originally hoped for. Oof.

I was a closer but because of covid my job turned into 'every position at the store and everything/anything that you can possibly get done'. All the stuff from morning team, mid shift, and nightshift rolled into one. Cashiering, phone calls, cleaning, ship from store, backroom, covering multiple breaks, and every department on hardlines salesfloor,

(I did everything except for guest services, food service, clothing, and hr)

you name it XD because most people abandoned ship and Yeeted (which I dont blame them for, t'was a big mood) our store did not hire replacements until literally a few months ago. After I left. Nice.

We were not getting paid any extra, having to stay late, running around with an unending unfinishable list, having to deal with rude customers and cranky bosses, full 8+hour shifts having to wear a mask (even in the break room, and sometimes missing breaks all together because of the large work load) Another problem, my job did not supply masks, proper cleaning supplies, gloves etc to us until an unacceptable amount of time had passed since the start of the virus. Now I didn't expect them to be stocked and fully prepared immediately, obviously.

It was also pretty frustrating getting reprimanded by customers when supplies were low everywhere and some things necessary for existing safely could not be bought anywhere due to high demand, which was only natural, but some people actually acted like it was our personal fault for the store for being sold out of things like hand sanitizer, masks, gloves, toilet paper, and even accused us for holding it in the back for ourselves (which wasnt the case, customers are top priority at our store so the workers usually got nothing to take home or buy, even if we had pulled it from the truck or stocked it ourselves.)

Aside from the excessive draining from normal retail where we already suffer from Karen's and the often unpleasant general public, the Rona made the daily grind even more intense, as if we already thought it couldn't get any worse.

Straying away from that for a second, personal lives were now also affected greatly. Added on top of this new fear/caution/lifestyle was not being able to see my fiance or his family for months because they are all at very high risk. (Unfortunately I am too, but I really needed the paycheck so I thought I had to keep working until the inevitable, which was not looked forward to, but as long as I was potentially exposed with my job we all had to be apart unless I decided to quit and risk not having enough money to pay my bills or survive.)

(Side note for context: My fiance and I have been very lucky enough to see eachother almost every day for 4 years. Surprisingly we have not gotten sick of eachother yet and kept up with that regularity. And though we are engaged, we dont live together, but we do only live 15 minutes away so we just drive over to eachother everyday. Anyway, point being that going months without seeing him at all killed me internally hardcore. This was before zoom was popular and we were not about to resort to Skype. His parents are older and closer to me than my own family and were not comfortable with any form of in-person visits so we usually just did phone calls.)

And eventually I gave up,

I made it halfway through this pandemic working everyday, not seeing the only people I considered family, and I couldn't do it anymore. It literally didn't feel human.

Not to mention this did not help whatsoever with my pre-existing problems, bad depression, anxiety, ptsd, Self h, etc... it was all just getting way too out of hand with more stress piling up daily and taking too big a toll on me to the point where I couldn't deal with my regular lifestyle anymore. I needed a break and a change to severely turn myself around.

So a few months ago I finally went on leave of absence and it was the hardest thing for me to do but honestly the best thing I did. Because everything was so uncertain and I worried about how helpful unemployment would be towards my bills, if I'd lose my job for being gone too long due to an open ended leave of absense for the sake of my health/safety, and honestly I loved my job and my coworkers, but many of them had already left so at that point it became easier for me to leave.

I'm currently making more on unemployment than my job was paying my bi-weekly and doing leagues better mentally, emotionally, and physically, than before when I thought I could last the whole time working through covid hoping I wouldn't catch it and probably die because my health is not 100% gucci in the first place. I was too stubborn to quit until I got to a breaking point and then realised that putting my health/life on the line when I'm at risk during a pandemic for literally no reason other than feeling bad for my one really kind boss (who ended up leaving for a better job anyway right after I left)

in my brain the whole time I figured "eh if I die then I die" but there was a major upside to saying "you know what, fuck this" and leaving.

I've gotten to take up hobbies and do things that I've wanted to do for like 10 years, I improved my financial situation, bought my dream car(A 2004Crossfire), got engaged to the love of my life, had more time to read, write, learn, create, help my fiance record his first official music video, support smaller businesses, get back in better physical health, regain stability, and a new respect for life, health, friends, family, acts of kindness, and how easy things used to be before covid and how it was unintentionally taken for granted.

Not gonna lie, at first I was pretty mad that people on unemployment made more than essential workers, but I also knew that it wasn't their fault for their personal situations or reasonings for needing it. The problem was mainly that many Companies/jobs could have done more, treated essential workers better, given more help, compensated financially, offered forms of protectionagaint the virus, or done literally anything extra at all to help employees who were struggling or who stay to continue working there during a terrible pandemic, and some companies/jobs have done good things for their workers in response of the outbreak which is awesome.

Workers should absolutely be compensated for their extra efforts, time, and pleasant attitude in this difficult time, and treated better than they are. Some things should 1000% be different but some things in this world are still a work in progress.

And also, for people with health issues that are at risk but working anyway for whatever reason, there shouldn't be any shame felt for taking care of yourself or by the people who have to go on unemployment, those who can't work, lost their jobs, need help or a break, or just can't do it anymore, because it hits hard when you realise that even though your effort is important and you're doing your best, playing an important role in society, you could also be risking your health/life or even possibly someone you live withs, for a company that will replace you pretty easily if you're suddenly gone.

I worked at my store for 4 years, was extremely hard working and did everything and anything I could to stay as long as I could during this, but I realised that I'd rather not risk myself and be treated how I was.

Ultimately, the sad reality is that covid has some people forgetting that humans (whether working or not) are humans too that can die or fail at any time given the current circumstances. Some situations are unavoidable like a pandemic, but we can do our best with whatever reality we meet, whether it's being essential the whole way through like some are able, and knowing your health well enough to be able to judge what's best for you individually for now.

but regardless making sure you're not taking yourself for granted in the process.

I'm lucky enough to not have gotten covid yet, and I hope it stays that way.

If your job isnt doing what it can for you in this time, dont be too stubborn about staying

Its not worth risking yourself for your job honestly, and I really hope peoples jobs do as much as they can for those they employ.

If you aren't working, do something with your time that you'll remember (safe things obviously) and if you are still working keep up the awesome progress, stay safe, and be blessed. ❤

[mnchysmanuscripts]

Twenty Twenty

It’s that time of year again, waves of resolutions are washing across my timeline and a sense of self-improvement is in the air. If you think for a second I’m going to miss out on an opportunity for easy compliments and encouragement, you clearly don’t know me that well. But, I’m not a huge fan of New Year’s resolutions. Creating pass/fail goals over long stretches of time that necessitate radical changes to your lifestyle without accompanying radical changes to your lifestyle never seem to work out. I am a huge fan of yearly themes, however. In fact, I had one for 2019.

Last year was the Year of More. I knew that once I started college I wouldn’t have nearly as much temporal freedom as I once had to waste away and accomplish nothing of value, and so I resolved to branch out and expand my both literal and figurative palate as much as possible before school started. It’s hard to state exactly how successful the year was without concrete data, but I was able to accomplish a few of my goals. I picked up new skills that I use still routinely, I massively expanded my pool of artistic inspiration and intellectual stimuli, I tried a bunch of weird/scary foods, traveled to far off places without my mommy, and moved to a new city across the country. All of these are great victories, but the actual moment to moment of the year was pretty much how the moment to moment of my life had been before it. One of the main goals of the Year of the More was to finish creative projects I had always wanted to but never found the time or place for. That, obviously, didn’t pan out. As it turns out, you can’t do more things just by saying you’ll do more things. Productivity doesn’t really work like that.

Your brain loves crossing out items in a to-do list. There’s no greater feeling in the world than accomplishing your goals and seeing men cower at the sight. But, doing things is hard. It requires time and effort, both of which are limited resources. Not to mention, while your brain loves a completed project, it hates actually performing the actions necessary to complete them. If it’s a matter of life or death, your brain can compel you to do almost anything, but it will continuously try to weasel out of every other scenario until it reaches that point. Besides, your deadline isn’t that urgent. Maybe it won’t be a big deal if you don’t get started right away. You’ve been so good lately too, you deserve a break. You can always get it done tomorrow. It’s here, when your brain is confronted with ambiguity of necessity and genuinely plausible excuses, that it becomes all too easy to become distracted and procrastinate. The problem is multiplied when you have multiple projects you want to work on, because even the act of deciding what project to work on can trigger you to hesitate and become distracted. When you’re distracted, you’re not doing work and you aren’t really having fun either. It’s hard to not feel guilty booting up that video game when you know you should be working, but it’s equally as hard to pry yourself away from it once you start playing. You’re stuck in the middle, all because there was no clear decision to be made. In your hesitation, your brain defaulted to the path of least resistance and you’re paying for it. This sort of thing would happen to me nearly every day of my life. And it wasn’t just my laziness, there’s something else at play here too.

Across the nation, our best and brightest are being round up and employed at a handful of mega-corporations with a singular purpose: to find cool, new ways to sell things to you. This is not a conspiracy, this is not science fiction, this was cutting edge ten years ago and now it’s just taken for granted by everyone who thinks about it for more than a second. Your favorite social media is not a neutral platform that you come to socialize and consume content on. It is a business, and as a business it has the sole purpose of making money, and the way these business makes money is by selling ad space and by selling your data to advertisers. The longer you look and the more you refresh, the more advertisements you’ll see and the more data you’ll leave behind. All the while, that social media platform is making money. Many people I know, perhaps even you reading this sentence right now, get the vast majority of their social interaction and consume the vast majority of their media through these systems which have been designed with the sole purpose of maximizing the amount of time spent looking at advertisements. To accomplish this, social media platforms (and by extension the promoted user generated content on said platforms) intentionally make their websites as addicting as possible. They develop algorithms to show you the posts that will keep you the most engaged, for better or for worse, because they need to keep your attention for as long as possible. It doesn’t matter if you have AdBlock and aren’t literally seeing advertisements, the systems these websites are built on still affect you and are still extremely dangerous. We have become addicted to refreshing the page in the hopes that we will get to see and consume more and more content like pigs at a trough, all for the benefit of the pasty nerds and rich people. Just to be clear, I’m not above this. You aren’t stupid for closing that tab just to reopen it moments later. Like I said, our best and brightest are intentionally designing these systems for their job. They are preying on the mind’s easily exploitable ability to become distracted and using it for possibly the most evil goal fucking imaginable. Facebook broke your brain to spam you with pop-up ads.

And so, as a result of being a scatterbrained creative with too much time on my hands and a stable internet connection, I have the worst of both worlds. I’m pushed by my lack of severe lack of self-discipline and easily distractible set of hobbies, and pulled by algorithms designed by a team of the nation’s top scientists to be as addicting and time-consuming as possible, into becoming a strange being consisting only of wasted time and untapped potential.

But no more, I say. It’s time I take matters into my own hands. These distractions are like the brambles of a jungle-- chaotic and ever-growing. I must cleave through them with my machete and create the sort of life I want to live in. It’ll be a life without distractions, without addictions. It’ll be a life of intentionality, of clarity. I will conquer this jungle.

2020 is the Year of Conquest. I’m taking back my life and making sure I live as intentional of a life as I possibly can. What’s so painful about distractions is how they can eat away an afternoon or an entire day you promised yourself you would spend working. I’m not going to never play a video game ever again, quite the opposite. I’m simply going to clearly define times where I will work and times I will play, there can’t be anymore ambiguity. When I’m working, I’m working. When I’m playing, I’m playing. And, of course, I will try as hard as I can to wrestle with my addiction to social media. I’m not leaving the internet, obviously. I will still use social media but, again, in an intentional manner. I will not allow my tools to seduce me. My phone does not get to beckon me to it with notifications and interrupt my work. I will use it when and only when I choose to.

All this might sound a bit vague, but that’s how themes work best. The Year of Conquest is simply the prompt, the starting point for a whole roster of specific resolutions. I fully intend to get more specific and walkthrough my actual plans/goals for the year, but if I just start listing them all right now then I’ll get a dopamine rush that’ll satiate my self-improvement appetite and I’ll end up not actually doing them. In general though, I’m going to use a combination of incentivizes, disincentivizes, and structural lifestyle changes to try and lead a more intentional life. These carrots, sticks, and tracks definitely can and will be explained in a future post but again that’s a story for another time. Probably tomorrow, it’s my bedtime.

(Send me asks and give me some feedback. It makes me happy to know people are actually reading.)

[momonetmoproblems]

Virtual Identities & Oversharing

The Spammer & The Paparazzi: How much is too much?

Social Media has fashioned a space for persons across the world to depart from the realities of their average lives and enter a world in which, with an email address or cell number and a few abstract characters strung together to create a password, they can be whomever or whatever they like. Sometimes these personas are an extension of the true self or they may be fictitious and misleading characters to disguise a user’s genuine identity. People develop various personalities across social media platforms to suit their audience “like a chameleon that changes colours to suit its background or settings, so the online personality can change to adapt and fit in to an online community” says Stacey Koosel in The Renegotiated Self: Social Media’s Effects on Identity. This can range from the Perfect Christian on Facebook for the approval of familial onlookers to Miss #FlewedOut on Instagram for the admiration and acceptance of other IG “baddies” to the I Hate Men posse for the recognition of Feminist Twitter. Social Media is a performative space where users carry out a balancing act, never breaking character and executing top notch shows in exchange for rave reviews in the form of Likes, Retweets and Comments. 

From the impersonating of famous celebrities to World Record Eggs, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook among other platforms are breeding grounds for Virtual Identities, most of which, arguably, are false in nature. These concocted personas are often the manifestations of who one thinks he or she is or wishes he or she could be. The Spammer and The Paparazzi, as I will affectionately call them, are two of the foremost personas plaguing the internet, shifting perceptions of reality subtly but unmistakably, often through oversharing, and the repercussions can be grave.

Jaron Lanier, Chief Technology Officer at Microsoft, in the 2020 docudrama The Social Dilemma, states that social media causes a gradual, slight, imperceptible change in people’s behavior and perception altering what they do, how they think and who they are. Social Media, by nature, can turn users into “oversharers”, it is to be expected.  Afterall, Facebook prompts its users with “What’s on your mind?” and Twitter with “What’s happening?” And as more actors join these performative spaces, it can be observed that the more outrageous the spectacle, the more interactions, engagements, and impressions it will receive as it “[inspires] the passive audience to become more active, interactive and creative” avers Koosel. Gradually, there is more and more competition for the spotlight. So, what do people do? They generate more content in the hopes of finally or repeatedly going viral. Who wouldn’t want to see themselves on Good Morning America for their viral #VogueChallenge or get their artwork of Nicki Minaj acknowledged by the rapper with over 123 million followers and potential customers on Instagram? Unfortunately, not everyone is talented in these traditional ways, thus the performance becomes one of improvisation with very personal, provocative or pretended anecdotes, pictures or videos to spark a controversy. But it is imperative that we ask ourselves “How much is too much? 

The Spammer

The ultimate oversharer that will leave you screaming “T.M.I.” to your screen at least every other minute is the Spammer. Their tweets are often extremely personal and frequently appear in quick succession of each other. This type of user’s downfall is most likely that one post that the world did not need to see (believe it or not, the first tweet from the screenshot above is very real). This piece of information regularly falls in the hands of the worst person imaginable - an employer, parent, significant other or worse. This is the reality on the popular platform, Twitter. 

Take the case of Deputy Director of Public Prosecutions, Adley Duncan, for example. The series of tweets below has forced the DPP to establish a social media policy after backlash ensued on the timeline in response to Duncan’s unnecessary and inappropriate confession. He has since deactivated his account.

Twitter user and YouTuber, Niakumi, is another oversharer. Unfortunately, in her case, it cost her a little more than her Twitter account. YouTube has become Oversharing Central and has cost several vloggers their careers, accounts and fanbases because of a Storytime that never should have left their hard drive or a tweet that should never have left their drafts. 

The same can be identified in the case of the young JMMB employee who tweeted a “rape joke” which was quickly escalated to the JCF, Digicel and JMMB. The employee has since lost his job. 

The Paparazzi

Erving Goffman in The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life postulates when individuals interact with others, they attempt to police how they are perceived by constructing a certain image of desired impressions. Goffman illustrates that these individuals choose their own stage, props, and costumes for specific audiences. Though Goffman was referring to real life interactions, as the world becomes increasingly digital, these performances are most appreciated on social media. Enli and Thumim, in Socializing and Self-Representation Online, posit that users meticulously select the best information to convey to their respective audiences which may establish a certain status for that user based on popularity. And where can one find the best arena for a popularity contest? If you said “Instagram”, you are absolutely correct. 

The Paparazzi, best represented on IG, generates his or her “digiSelf” as Mark Federman used in The Cultural Paradox of the Global Village, by snapping a shot of every second of the day. This often includes: 

Their outfit (the costume)

Who they are with (God forbid the person is even minutely famous)

What they are driving, and the music played

The journey

The scenery

The destination (the stage)

The food, drinks – bring out the top shelf liquor – and the bill (the props)

Cyberstalking is now birthed from oversharing in the establishing of these virtual identities as this user is not only a danger to themselves but to those around them as they enable stalkers and others with ill intent to live-track their location making them an easy target. Several Jamaican women find themselves being plagued by their very own Joe (don’t say you haven’t watched You on Netflix) which the above Jamaica Observer article speaks to as six men summarize the ways in which they kept tabs on an ex using social media, while international artistes, Tay Way and Pop Smoke, have fallen victim to this habit and the repercussions were fatal in both cases.

Users must be cognizant that their Virtual Identities or digiSelves, so long as they are associated with their governmental naming, are a reflection of whatever entity they find themselves employed, even if they do not intend it. These brands have worked tirelessly for years to maintain their image and will not hesitate to shed dead weight tainting their brand identity. Moreover, the savages viewers on social media are out for blood and will not hesitate to pull out the pitchforks and torches when someone missteps, #CancelCulture. Other users will not give the benefit of separating one’s real self and the digiSelf, they are far more likely to take one’s content at face value. Therefore, think upon what you want people to see when they type in your name or “handle”, what should they take away from your profile? 

Furthermore, social media, when overused and abused, leave users vulnerable to the ill-minded lurkers in the shadows. Tactics like keeping a low profile, utilizing privacy settings by being specific about who can view one’s content and the follow or friend requests accepted, reducing the amount of personal information associated with one’s account and, if one must snap, posting the content when safely home enable users to lessen the likelihood of being cyberstalked.

To be safe overall? 

Next time Twitter asks, “What’s happening”, or the next time you hit the road for a night on the town, ask yourself “How much is too much?”

References

Dazio, S. (2020, July 10). Police: Pop Smoke's social media led killers to LA home. ABC News. https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/police-arrested-los-angeles-death-rapper-pop-smoke-71695053

Enli, S & Thumim, N. (2012). Socializing and Self Representation Online: Exploring Facebook.

Federman, M. (2006). The cultural paradox of the global village. Keynote Speech at McLuhan Programme in Culture and Technology, University of Toronto.

Gartrell, N. & Bouscher, D. (2020, September 18). Richmond rapper Tay Way gunned down minutes after posting Instagram video that revealed his location. Mercury News. https://www.mercurynews.com/2020/09/18/three-shot-one-killed-in-richmond-drive-by-shooting/

Goffman, E. (1959). The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.

Knight, C. (2019, April 29). All Woman Relationships Stalker mode: 'I would dial her number just to listen to her voice'. The Jamaica Observer. http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/all-woman/stalker-mode-i-would-dial-her-number-just-to-listen-to-her-voice-_163249?profile=1263

Koosel, S. (2015). The Renegotiated Self: Social Media’s Effects on Identity. Alfapress.

Zaman, M. (2020, September 2). The People Who Created Facebook & YouTube Are Sorry. Refinery 29. https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2020/09/10002175/social-media-effects-the-social-dilemma-netflix-documentary

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #273

ew, wtf is this new /tagged formatting???? ugh.

What is something you dislike about the dating world? I haven't dated around enough to have first-hand experience, really. But from an outside view, people don't seem all that interested in serious commitment. Don't fwm if you aren't into the idea of working towards a whole lifetime together. What gives you confidence? Bitch nothing lmao. Have you ever dated someone with very different sexual tastes than you? No. What is the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given? Both Jason and Sara got a huge list of reasons I love them for certain relationship "milestones," both which really did take a long time because there were loads. I did it with each because I really did feel like it was a very personal, uplifting, and full-of-adoration gift, not just for the sake of recycling an idea because I had no others. I have a shitload of romantic ideas, ngl man. Do you feel as though someone ‘won’ in your last break up? Neither of us "won" or "lost," really. It was a mutual agreement that now just isn't the time for a relationship between us. Whatever happened to the first person you ever loved? Sometimes I'm scared to know. Do you still shop at the same stores you liked when you were a teenager? Yeah. Thankfully Hot Topic became more accessible to plus-size people. Is there anyone significantly older than you that you would date? No. I won't go over like... nine years. Even eight it pushing it. Please share your embarrassing and weird celeb crushes. Post pictures. What do you like about them? I don't have any "embarrassing" or "weird" ones. What is something your partner does that is unattractive to you? N/A What is something that would have made the show better/you would have liked to see happen on one of your favorite series? I honestly wish Weed in Ginga Densetsu Weed was more realistic and realized Hougen was worth killing himself. The lightning seemed cheap and anti-climactic. He had EVERY reason to kill him, and it sounds weird to consider killing as a form of growth, but I feel like it would've been. Maybe that's just a personal thing, believing killing is sometimes justified, but it actually annoyed me. Nevertheless, fucking fantastic show. How do you feel about celebrities that are silent about political or human rights issues? Do you think celebrities should use their platform to speak out? I have... mixed feelings. I think most of me says to use their prominence for good, to be a loud voice to look up to and bring greater attention to issues, but at the same time, some people just like/feel safer being non-political. When you were a kid, what child characters did you admire or relate to most? BINDI IRWIN!!!!!!!!!! I still follow and fucking adore her. Y'all she recently got married and she is just so beautiful and so happy and the Irwins are just genuinely angels on this earth. Tell me about a time that you were bored in a relationship (can be romantic or friendship). What was it about them/the situation that bored you? I've never been romantically bored, and not really with a friendship, either. Sure, I've been bored in another's presence, but it was never a consistent issue. Who’s your favorite Tiktoker? I have never even touched it. How high or low is the barrier to entry in your field or desired field? It's tough, but not that high. More than anything, photography depends on who you know to help get you out there, sadly. It's luck, too. There is most certainly skill involved, but yeah... building your brand up to stand out with only your own hands is ridiculously hard. But that's really any small business/self-employed position. Where would you look if you were looking for a job (e.g., indeed.com, company websites, asking a friend…)? I've pretty much always used Indeed, or I hear from family/friends. How much lower than your ideal salary would you take? What would the job have to entail for you to take a less than ideal wage? Hi, I live in America, where the government doesn't give a fuck if you can support yourself on minimum wage or not. :^) But anyway, this is a difficult question to answer with how little experience I have. I can say, however, that I will fucking not work to just barely scrape by with minimum wage. If I'm going to bust my ass, it's gonna be fucking worth it. Even if you were able to support yourself/your own family, would there ever be a situation in which you would choose to live in a shared house with another family or individual, be it your parents or a sibling’s family, or some other housemate? Sure, I wouldn't mind. Especially family. Do bridges make you nervous? To a degree. Are there any movies that you find so dumb, you find funny? Napoleon Dynamite, of course. How often do you vacation? Pretty much never ever. Do you think it’s cruel to leave a live fish to die in an ice box? I am genuinely concerned for you if you say no to this. Have you ever done anything sexual with someone of the same sex? Yes. Have you ever pawned anything off at a pawn shop? No. Do you have stomach abs? OH, HUNNY- Do you know anyone who is trying to physically impersonate a celebrity? No. Have you ever seen a shuttle launch? I mean, on TV, but even then I didn't seriously watch it. Are we having signs of the apocalypse? I don't believe in the "apocalypse." We're going to fall through natural methods. We're definitely heading deeper into destruction in some ways, though, by our own hands. I'm quite sure humans themselves will be the end of humanity. Would you rather see The Blue Man Group or Fear Factor live? BLUE MAN GROUP!!! They're dooooope. Do you have any exciting plans for this upcoming weekend? No. I'm staying in the goddamn house like we're fucking supposed to. What color of colored contacts would you like to have? To wear regularly? Sapphire blue. Ohhh, maybe one that, and the other icy blue. What’s on your bedside table? It's more a shelf than a table, so I have quite a bit. My medicine basket, fan, a drink, books, sketchbook, some other miscellaneous things. What’s on your bed? A bedsheet, comforter, two pillows, and me, ha ha. Your floor besides furniture? Nothing. Your dresser? All my meerkat stuffed animals, plus some others. The top shelf in your closet? Ha, good question. Are there any dead stuffed animals in your house? No. What’s the best prize you’ve won on an amusement park/carnival game? *shrug* Have you ever done anything sexual in a school? No, I was a good noodle. Have you ever been indoor skydiving? No. Would you have any interest in going on a cruise? Not really. What did you have for dinner last night? I made some hot wings. What's your ideal indoor temperature? High 60s, ig. It’s hard to really tell because my room is always the hottest in the house and I have a fan on me, so I don’t really feel the “normal” temperature most of the time. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. What's the grossest thing u have found in your food? Probably nothing worse than a hair or something, idk. Are you a flip flop lover? I am NOTORIOUS for wearing flipflops absolutely year-round. A little bit of snow on the ground? I’m wearing my gd flipflops because they’re just easy to slide on and I care about convenience probably too much lmao. What namebrand dishwashing liquid do u use? … Dawn, I think? I don’t really pay attention. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? UGH yesssssssssss hunty. Do you prefer hard or soft shell tacos? I hate tacos, but I’d definitely rather have a soft shell than hard. Ever worn a flower in your hair? Maybe as a kid? Name five random things in your kitchen? Nothing abnormal, really… no, wait. You know those sticky cylinder things that flies are attracted to and die a slow death for their brazen intrusion upon your property? We have one of those hanging up in there. Magnets and pictures on the fridge is considered pretty normal, right? Name four things in your fridge? Milk, apples, a bigass bag of pepperoni, and some cold water bottles because I strongly prefer cold water. Name two things in your meds cabinet? We’ve got a load… Different kinds of pain pills, things like Pepto, etc. Name six things in your family room? A couch, a reclining chair, the TV, Mom’s bed, loads of pictures on the walls, and uh… sidetables? Name three things in your bedroom? My snake, my bed, and my dresser. Name three things in your yard? A bird feeder that squirrels like to steal from, a random fucking dolphin statue thingy that deadass looks like a distorted dick (it’s been here since we got here, idfk), and two sheds. Name two things in your bathroom? Our bathroom is tiiiny, so very normal stuff. Y’know, a toilet and sink. What health problems do you have? A lot that I don’t feel like thinking through. Fave name brand of water? Essentia. Do you have a trampoline? Not since I was a teenager. The last time you were in the fridge, what were you looking for? Jam to make a pb&j. Do you like clowns? No opinion. Are you listening to anything at the moment? Surprisingly nothing, but Halocene’s cover of “My Immortal” is seeeeeriously jammed in my head. Do you twitch when your falling asleep? YES. They’re more like muscle spasms. Are your dishes in the dishwasher clean or dirty? We don’t have one; we have to wash by hand. Buuut that house we’re moving into has one! :’) When is the last time you were on a bicycle? Not since I was a teenager. I used to love love loooove to ride my bike after school. What have you eaten today? Special K cereal and aforementioned sandwich. Do you own a strapless bra? Fuckin Y I K E S that would not work w/ my size lmfao. Does the person you like know it? Ye. Did anything brighten up your day today? Our lawn FINALLY got mowed and the bushes trimmed. We had to tidy it up before we can move. It looked like a jungle, deadass serious. Do you ever wonder how other people see you? Only all the time. What is one good thing you're known for? I write well. How about one bad thing? I’m very dependent. When was the last time you sang an ENTIRE song? Wow, no clue. I rarely sing, never mind an entire song. What is one thing that is currently bothering you? Actually my stomach kinda hurts. What did you do today? Wander around the Internet looking for something to even mildly entertain me, play World of Warcraft for a very brief period since I’m going through a bored phase of it, read for a bit, showered… not a lot, but later today we’re celebrating my mom’s birthday early, actually. Do you consider yourself to be attractive? No. I think my dimples are kinda cute, but that’s it. Do you regret going out with the last person you did? Not at all. Do you realize it when you curse? It’s so normal in my vocabulary that generally, no. I’m very mindful around kids, though. I still remember the first time I said “fuck” in my mom’s presence without realizing it and she just like f r o z e. Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yeah, for various reasons. That is veeeeery rare nowadays, though, partially because I’m so fucking bored that I’m just happy to close the day. What's the longest amount of time you've been stuck in traffic? An hour or so is my guess while traveling. I don’t recall any specific instances. Best field trip experience? We went to the zoo!!!! It was the one and only time thus far that I’ve seen meerkats irl. What is the most amount of money you've spent on a meal before? I’ve never really been able to buy my own meal, never mind something expensive. What museums have you visited, if any? Just local ones centered around art or science, generally. What's your worst traveling experience? Idk. Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? Never played. Not my kinda game. What area of math are you best at? Worst? lol I suck at them all. How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It’s exciting! Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? No, because I don’t believe in any “magical” influence over events that occur. Shit just happens, sometimes to good people, sometimes to bad people, and everything in-between. How often do you "half-ass" things (put little effort in)? IIII tend to do that a lot.. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Not really. Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? You could say so, but it turned out fine that I missed it anyway. What's something that makes you incredibly nervous? Talking to people I don’t know or being alone with a man. If you don't have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? N/A If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn't need them anymore? I’d be fuckin’ stoked, I could get my undereye dermal without it looking stupid. How many vegetarians do you know? I’m not sure. Have you ever considered going to art school? Does Photography count? I majored in that. Otherwise, no. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No, I was always very attentive in class. Are your parents supportive of you? Very.