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theanimeview · 3 years

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PPPPPP - Why I Keep Reading a Music Manga That I Can’t Fully Recommend (Review/Analysis)

Source: VIZ Media, https://www.viz.com/shonenjump/chapters/pppppp?locale=en

By: Beata Garrett | @zhongxia246

PPPPPP is a manga about a family of geniuses with piano superpowers, and it’s everything I expected something with that premise to be, yet underwhelming in ways that I’ll do my best to describe. I feel like it’s the kind of work you’d read if you want to read a mashup of The Umbrella Academy and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, but I can’t promise you’ll have as good of a time consuming it in comparison to either.

When I wrote this review, there were only 16 chapters available on VIZ, but the representations of music in it has been stuck in my mind since I began reading it in September (2021). I’ll delve into the art later, but will focus on PPPPPP’s themes and plot first.

What It’s About

The protagonist, Lucky Sonoda, is the only mediocre child in a family of piano-virtuosos but continues loving it from afar while taking care of his ill, hospitalized mother.

He’s like other shounen main characters: he’s optimistic, resilient, and has a deep passion for something he may not have the talent for even though the rest of his family does.

Since his parents’ divorce ten years ago, Lucky has been sidelined in the family as the untalented and oft forgotten seventh child of what should be the Otogami Septuplets. From the sidelines, he’s been forced to watch people fawn over his genius siblings, called the “Otogami Sextuplet Pianists,” along with having his surname changed to their mother’s, hence him being the only “Sonoda” of the seven children.

Source: Chapter 1, PPPPPP

Lucky now lives with his aunt from his mother’s side and her spoiled son rather than his father or mother. The trauma of Gakuon and the aunt’s abuse are clearly affecting him, but he doesn’t blame anyone else other than himself--regularly attributing their terrible treatment of him to his mediocrity at the piano. He also blames himself for separating his mom from the rest of the siblings because he sees himself as the cause of their divorce, and is unable to imagine any future with his siblings as a result.

He doesn’t exist to the family, especially to its patriarch, Gakuon, or to the rest of the world.

Source: Chapter 1, PPPPPP

Everything changes when his mother encourages Lucky to become a pianist because she loves his playing. She tells him to also prove his father wrong by showing him that anyone, including the mediocre, can play the piano. This is only the beginning of his journey into the musical profession that will inevitably draw him deeper into the world of his siblings and father.

Meaning in The Title

PPPPPP stands for pianissimo (or, pianississimo if you prefer the British-English spelling) repeated twice. A pianissimo note should be played very, very softly. In terms of voice, this would be even softer than a whisper. Playing pianissimo is difficult because you can’t hit keys with the typical force you would use, but it helps train your sensitivity to subtleties in music.

Source: https://socratic.org/questions/what-does-ppp-stand-for-in-music

I do like how pianissimo represents Lucky’s gentle nature and soft playing--a tendency born from playing for his mother in the hospital. It nicely contrasts the more aggressive styles of the siblings raised by Gakuon.

It wasn’t a bad trait to give Lucky in and of itself, but when combined with the power of granting wishes by recreating reality... well, that makes him overpowered.

To be fair, unlike other music-focused manga, PPPPPP tries to tackle experiential-visual music as though it’s really happening rather than some fantasy the listener is simply imagining. It’s really interesting that, instead, Lucky is creating these images himself with music and sharing it with his listeners. In my search, I haven’t found anything that fits this in reality besides sound-color synesthetes (a form of synesthesia), a phenomenon in which one can associate music with colors. There’s also visual music, but that requires artists to make a visual component based on the music, which is not expressed within the manga. Moreover, I haven’t seen this brought out in other manga or comics before either.

Chapter 12, PPPPPP

That said, PPPPPP’s idea, though great in visualizing music most of the time, also feels like a shortcut to avoid the more difficult issues that face any artist about their self-worth in their chosen field.

What makes this stand out is how clear of a level difference Lucky has compared to his peers. After all, once Lucky enters Shibuya Music High School, it’s clear that he’s below his peers in terms of skill and knowledge. He’s unable to discern notes that are played or follow along with much of what’s being said. However, despite this, his mentor, Hideo, tells him that his playing is special because of his history, desire, and its softness.

Source: Chapter 2, PPPPPP

While being able to play pianissimo better than other pianists allows Lucky to stand out and understand the nuances of his pieces better, it doesn’t compensate for other necessary techniques. It also puts him at a disadvantage for pieces that require louder emotions like joy or anger.

I expected the manga to raise questions about authenticity, skill, and talent, and the worth of these traits in discerning the winner or best pianist in a competition. These are topics that have been raised frequently in sports manga like Haikyuu and Ping Pong, and music manga like Blue Giant and Blue Orchestra. One of the marks of a great sports or music manga is how they’ll approach these deeper themes of competition, talent, and skill.

Source: Chapter 3, PPPPPP

When Lucky begins competing with others, PPPPPP removes a lot of the musical complexity from the plot. For the first competition, Hideo challenges Lucky and Ako, a girl with perfect pitch, to compete. They have to play “Pavane pour une infante défunte.” It is a piece intended to be played very slowly, and Hideo advises Lucky to use his talent to take the listener to another place, as seen in the image above.

There’s no clear winner of the battle, as Ako is technically superior in her playing, but Lucky passes by granting Ako’s “wish.” Her wish is for her mother to pat her on the head like she used to, and Lucky grants it through his playing of the piece using his magical powers.

Chapter 3, PPPPPP

Unlike the other Otogamis, Lucky can only bring others into his memories and can’t conjure anything he hasn’t experienced. It’s a good limitation to his powers, but he remains a horrible player on a technical level and has to rely on it to win all of his competitions.

Because of this magic that so many people seem to ‘magically’ appreciate, there isn’t a great need to improve his technical skills and so, instead, he focuses on choosing a memory to bring someone into rather than developing holistically as a pianist.

This scene is what made me realize that PPPPPP is best when it’s centered on the Otogami family and their issues rather than deeper themes of musical composure, competition, or innate talent versus earned skills.

When Lucky battles his siblings, the manga utilizes his power to create very strong emotional moments, often reflecting on how his father has hurt him, and thereby helping his siblings begin to break free of their father’s abuse. It is a far more interesting and cohesive part of the story than nearly any focus on the musical profession or education.

The Six Otagamis of the Septuplets

Source: Chapter 3, PPPPPP

In PPPPPP, Gakuon (their father) uses emotional and physical abuse on his children so they stay by his side. This is seen primarily in the isolation tactics used on Lucky, showing his siblings what happens when you don’t have talent, but certainly expands when looking at the other six.

The lives of Lucky’s siblings revolve around winning to earn their father’s approval and to grab any chance of agency in their micromanaged lives. All of them are assigned their own personal manager who report directly to Gakuon, and are unable to even dream of quitting the piano.

Their father’s influence is revealed best in Reijiro’s flashback to the only time he lost, albeit purposefully, to someone. Gakuon punished Reijiro physically by slapping him and later tells his son, “You’ll never be normal. Your only friend is the piano” (Chapter 9, PPPPPP). It also served as reinforcement for the other children who wanted to avoid being treated the same way, each of whom watch and even shamed Reijiro further, thereby perpetuating the abuse:

Source: Chapter 9, PPPPPP

While Lucky has also been abused by his aunt, he was able to have a semblance of normalcy through his mother. Moreover, by leaving the aunt to go pursue music at his new school, he’s able to advance and gain freedoms beyond what his siblings have had under Gakuon.

When Lucky plays in the competition against Reijiro and fulfills Reijiro’s wish to walk home with a friend, he thinks, “Reijiro’s wish is just normal for me. But that ordinary experience is what [Reijiro’s] been tearfully longing for” (Chapter 12, PPPPPP).

After Lucky finishes, Reijiro hugs him and requests that they go back home and Lucky play the piece for him everyday. However, Lucky gently reminds him that that would be escaping reality and he wants all of his siblings to get the opportunity to live in the real world.

Source: Chapter 12, PPPPPP

It’s a powerful goal that’s made effective because it comes from a member of the family that has already been abused and abandoned. It’s not from some random stranger who wants to save some children--which would be fine but not as emotionally impactful.

These abused siblings can understand each other on a deeper level in many ways, so I appreciate PPPPPP addressing the ways in which they react to each other and to their abuser. In this case, the abuser is their parent and mentor, and that makes for an even more complicated relationship because they’re two positions that society teaches you to not fight back against. It’s hard to read, but powerful.

Source: Chapter 16, PPPPPP

Another interesting example of how trauma manifests itself is in Lucky’s sister, Mimin. She’s sent to Japan to win as many competitions as she can for their father, and is personally invested in this mission because she believes beating all the pianists who lose to her will allow her to play the piano style she wants.

Her logic is that people who enter competitions and win become judges, judges who restrict the freedom that can be found in piano. She’s not interested in whether a piece is “good” but wants to "live freely” and feels she can only do so if there are no other pianists to be compared against (Chapter 16, PPPPPP).

Mimin hasn’t realized yet that she doesn’t live freely because of Gakuon and that he’s redirecting her frustration towards other pianists who could be her friends, and not her enemy. It shows how far Gakuon’s ideology has taken root within his kids and prevented them from living fulfilling lives.

The Art

Now onto the fun part: the art. PPPPPP is visually striking with its way of depicting music through “fantasies” that are sometimes whimsical and sometimes painfully realistic. These are a few examples of the more whimsical panels:

Source: Starting top-left, going clockwise: Chapter 1, Chapter 8, Chapter 16, Chapter 5, PPPPPP

While it could benefit from changing the art style in the same way Blue Period does by hiring different artists, I still enjoy PPPPPP’s present style.

The more realistic panels are emotionally impactful as they reveal the deep desires of the people Lucky plays for, such as when his playing conjures up a sunset and a friend for his brother Reijiro:

Source: Chapter 12, PPPPPP

There’s another great scene where Lucky allows a classmate to briefly taste his dream of being good enough to receive a standing ovation through his music:

Source: Chapter 7, PPPPPP

The classmate himself doesn’t really matter, but everyone can relate to that desire to be seen and appreciated by others. As a musician, standing ovations are an acknowledgement that your music has resonated with the audience and it’s bittersweet to see someone want it so badly in comparison to the Otogamis, who receive them so much that they’ve become bored of it.

It’s little moments like this that keep me returning to this manga and I applaud the mangaka, MAPOLLO 3, for creating a music manga that visualizes the experience of playing and listening to music in a way I haven’t seen before.

Conclusion

I really hope the manga treats each Otogami with dignity and consideration. So far, MAPOLLO 3’s done a decent, if simplistic, job with Reijiro and Mimin, so I’m curious to see if they can keep it up with the other kids.

Unfortunately, other parts of the story thus far have remained tedious in comparison. It’s hard to care about Lucky fulfilling some random classmate’s dream or believe in his new friendship with Ako when those characters have no personality and little time with him.

PPPPPP’s message isn’t unique or excellently done, but the way it combines a mix of realistic and fantastical art with its (touch-and-go) emotionally resonant story keeps me coming back. On that same note, the music is not for an elite audience or elite pianists but is for everyone, including the mediocre.

In the end, the message appears to be that the true growth and healthy self-value as a pianist comes from loving piano and learning from other pianists instead of dominating them.

#PPPPPP #Manga #MAPOLLO 3 #Music #Music manga #Analysis #Review #Shounen Jump

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current-mcr-news · 4 years

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Behind the Scenes: The Umbrella Academy - Episode 1

BRANDON JENKINS: In 1953, a 25 year old director named Phil Tucker had $16,000 and just four days to make his first sci-fi film. The plot? A creature comes to Earth with a death ray and wipes out all of humanity, except for eight people who are immune to the creature’s weapons. He called the film Robot Monster.

Movie clip: With the swiftness of a deadly cosmic ray, the Earth is inundated by indestructible moon monsters. Their ghastly mission? Death for all humans.

B: The film was so low budget, Tucker couldn’t even afford to get alien costumes, so he had the monster in a gorilla suit with a TV for a head.

Movie clip: What astounding technical developments are being made to protect mankind?

B: The release was a disaster. It was widely panned. Its lasting legacy would’ve been that it was one of the worst movies of all time. But in the early 2000s, a kid from New Jersey with a knack for drawing comics saw a picture of the Robot Monster and it stuck with him.

Gerard Way: I’ve never even actually seen the film, but I saw pictures of this creature over the years, and they’ve got a TV set, kind of circular space looking head, and they have a gorilla body, and I was like, “I want a superhero that’s kind of inspired by this.”

B: The kid’s name was Gerard. He’d been writing comics since he was 15 and was on his way to making it as a professional comic book artist.

WAY: I went to art school and I was an illustration and cartooning major, so comics were kind of like my major, and I was like this perpetual intern. I interned at DC, I pitched a cartoon to Cartoon Network, and then I landed a job as a toy designer at this place called FunHaus in Hoboken. But that’s like right when the band took off.

B: That band, Gerard’s side hustle, would become massive alt-punk sensation, My Chemical Romance. Seemingly overnight, My Chemical Romance and Gerard were making some of the most popular music in the world, getting spins on terrestrial radio, dominating music video countdowns, they were even nominated for a Grammy. But while he traveled across the globe leading a rockstar life, Gerard kept up with his first love - drawing.

WAY: So I really missed comics and we were in Japan and we did a signing at a shop, and one of the fans gave me a little marker set and it was Copic markers. They were like the greatest markers that I’d ever used before, and so I started to create Luther.

B: Luther, a superhero with a gorilla body and space helmet who lives on the moon was the very first character Gerard drew in what would become his hit comic The Umbrella Academy. I’m Branden Jenkins and this is Behind the Scenes: The Umbrella Academy. This season, we’re going backstage and inside the making of season 2. The first season of the show, based on Gerard’s comic of the same name, launched in February of last year and quickly became one of the most beloved series on Netflix. Now it’s back for its second season with bigger effects, bigger characters, and bigger drama. We’re going to catch you up on everything that’s gone down in The Umbrella Academy universe so far, and we’ll spend the next five episodes breaking down how the team shot the multi-million dollar superhero production across two countries, and how in the midst of a global pandemic, they managed to finish it from inside their own homes. But first, we wanted to take a look back and dig into the roots of The Umbrella Academy. So today, I’m catching up with the creators of the comic and the guy tasked with making the TV series. We talk about how the graphic novel was adapted for your screens.

B: Alright, so if you haven’t watched season 1, go back and watch season 1 on Netflix. For those of you who just need a quick recap: At 12pm on October 1, 1989, a supernatural event occurred. Forty-three babies across the planet were born to mothers who were not pregnant just seconds before. The world was confused, intrigued, and one eccentric billionaire wanted to find the babies and adopt them. He ended up with seven. Each baby had a superpower, and what do you do when you’re a billionaire with a group of kids with superpowers? You train them to become a crime fighting family.

Reginald: I give you the inaugural class of The Umbrella Academy!

B: When Gerard Way started creating the members of the Academy, he started with the most fundamental material.

WAY: I created a list of all the things that interested me. It could be anything from ouija board, fortune teller, spaceman, gorilla body, just a list of stuff.

B: Then he drew from that list and started creating these characters. All in all, he would draw seven. The first, Luther, the half-man half-gorilla, was the team’s defective leader. He was also the child closest with their father.

Luther: Just at Dad’s favorite spot. Allison: Dad had a favorite spot? Luther: Yeah, you know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time, none of you ever did that?

B: Next, he created Klaus and Allison, the boy who talks to the dead and the girl who can make people bend to her will with just a few words.

WAY: Klaus, he has some pretty serious addiction and addiction is something that I dealt with in my life. He’s also a little bit spooky and supernatural, and my personality in My Chemical Romance was very similar to that.

Klaus: I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?” Luther: Since when? That’s your thing. Klaus: I’m not in the right frame of mind! Allison: You’re high? Klaus: Yeah yeah! I mean, how are you not listening to this nonsense?

WAY: He was kind of my version of Doctor Strange. I find Allison to be the one that is easiest to write and I put the most of myself into Allison.

B: Her superpower is that she can make you do pretty much anything she tells you with a few magic words.

Allison: I heard a rumor you want to be my friend. I heard a rumor that you like Bradley. I heard a rumor that you left me alone. I heard a rumor that you stop crying.

WAY: There’s a bit of a tragic nature that comes with her power.

B: Allison, out of all of her super powered siblings, is the only one grasping for a normal life - career, husband, children. In a way, she’s the most human. The fourth character Gerard created is Diego, a guy with an uncanny ability to throw knives. He’s also stubborn as hell.

WAY: I knew early on he was gonna be the one that was gonna be really difficult with the leader. I figured that.

Diego: You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One. Luther: I am warning you. Diego: After everything he did to you, he had to ship you a million miles away. Luther: Diego, stop talking! Diego: That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!

B: The fifth character, a kid who can travel through time and space, who simply goes by Five. Despite the other character growing up into adults, he has remained a teenager, sort of.

WAY: He was a time traveler who then got stuck in his young body when he traveled back in time because time travel is complicated.

Klaus: Where are you going? Five: To get a decent cup of coffee. Allison: Do you even know how to drive? Five: I know how to do everything.

WAY: So then came The Horror.

B: The Horror, aka Ben, aka the dead sibling who only Klaus can see.

WAY: I imagined this character that had all these monsters living under his skin that came from another dimension. And he was very tortured to me. It actually kind of hurts him and it’s scary to him.

Ben: Do I really have to do this? Klaus: Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault. Ben: I didn’t sign up for this.

B: And then finally, Number Seven, Vanya, who seemingly has no powers besides playing the violin.

WAY: I was at this cafe in Manhattan when I was living in Brooklyn, and it was called The Sidewalk Cafe I believe, and on the wall they had a white violin just as decoration. And I remember looking at that and thinking to myself, “That would be a cool superhero.” And Vanya was always kind of designed to be a character who wasn’t special, that was going to transform into that.

Vanya: Look, if I was special I would’ve been in The Umbrella Academy. I’m so sorry you got stuck with the ordinary one.

B: These seven adopted siblings forced together by supernatural events formed The Umbrella Academy. Both the original comic and season 1 of the show start at the funeral for the Academy’s patriarch, the eccentric Sir Reginald Hargreeves. We learn that while the siblings ventured away from home as teenagers, after years of fighting and a toxic upbringing, they’ve returned home, back together for the first time in years, and all their dysfunctions and old conflicts come bubbling to the surface.

Diego: He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him. Allison: Diego! Diego: My name is Number Two.

B: When he started writing the comic, Gerard was focused on his own strained relationships. He saw his band as his own dysfunctional family at the time.

WAY: When you’re a baby band, you’re in this van and it’s like a submarine but it’s smaller. It’s like a closet that you're all living in and sometimes you’re going on seventeen hour drives, and you have very strong personalities. This dynamic starts to develop between all of the members and you really do kind of become a dysfunctional family. Like, there’s times where I felt like I was the mom.

GABRIEL BA: They know each other’s weaknesses.

B: Turns out, family dynamics was a theme with everyone who joined the Umbrella team, including the illustrator and Umbrella’s co-creator, a Brazilian artist named Gabriel Ba.

BA: And sometimes they say it to hurt the other intentionally and they do that a lot in Umbrella because they’re all angry at each other all the time. And even though I have a great relationship with my brother, I have that. We have a younger sister as well, so she’s very opinionated and she’s strong. I wouldn’t say we fight a lot, but sometimes we- I just know how to hurt her if I want to say something.

B: Family is present in Gabriel’s life more than for most people. He works every day with his twin brother, fellow comic book artist, Fabio Moon. But his work made him an unconventional choice for Umbrella.

BA: In the mid 90s, we moved away from superheroes. We, my brother and I, we figured the type of story that we liked to tell and wanted to tell was more real life, day by day life relationship, this kind of stuff.

B: Gabriel grew up in Brazil and now lives in Sao Paulo. His brother had been making experimental comics for well over a decade.

BA: But The Umbrella Academy was a superhero book with this day by day life relationship drama, and that was really interesting for me.

B: What excited Gerard about Gabriel was his style. His characters weren’t macho. They didn’t have big ripped muscles. They’re the kind of comics you could imagine being drawn in the margins of a notebook. There's nothing stereotypically super about them.

BA: It was not a straightforward American superhero artstyle. It was a mix of European and more fluid, but also could handle action and crazy stuff. And also, I can’t deny The Umbrella Academy was my first paid job in the U.S.

B: Wow.

BA: For the first ten years of our career, my brother and I were making comics for free. Just for ourselves, just getting [?], if there were any. So when I got the invitation to get involved with The Umbrella Academy it was this whole package of factors.

WAY: Gabriel climbing on board was a huge thing for us because he’s such a fantastic artist. He brought these characters to life. The interesting thing about Gabriel, he didn’t have to make Umbrella Academy. He was doing really well on his own and making really experimental artistic comics, but he liked the idea so much that he said, “I’m gonna do superheroes.”

BA: The superhero aspect of The Umbrella Academy is really just a layer in the story. I like the development of these characters, their struggles, their relationships, there’s romance, there’s deception.

Vanya: You are unbelievable, you’re trying to dig up dirt on a guy I like? Who does that? Allison: Look, I’ve had my fair share of stalkers and creeps, I don’t trust him! Vanya: You mean you don’t trust me.

BA: And it had the fun explosions and action scenes. So that’s the good mix.

B: The first book of the comic is called Apocalypse Suite. After their father’s death, The Umbrella Academy gets a warning from their time traveling brother that the world is going to end in 10 days. They don’t know how, they just know that it will. And now, back together for the first time, they’ve got to figure out how to save the planet and learn how to look past their differences. Which sounds dope, right? But when it first published back in 2007, it wasn’t immediately clear that people would dig it.

WAY: So one of the things I was dealing with when Umbrella Academy came out was a lot of people in the press before the comic came out saying things like, “Here’s a musician and he’s writing a comic.” They didn’t really know my background, they didn’t know that I’d written at 15, they didn’t know I went to art school. All they knew was that I was the singer in this rock band that a lot of teenagers liked. So, all I really wanted was a fair shake. I didn’t write The Umbrella Academy to become a TV show or a film. I wrote it to be an amazing comic. But we knew that first issue, and we knew it was good, and we knew that if you didn't get it by the first seven pages you just weren’t gonna like it, and I was totally fine with that. But then it came out and then the response started to happen and then reviewers loved it and people loved it.

B: The comic went on to win an Eisner award, which is like the Oscar of comics, and pretty quickly, Gerard gets an offer to turn the comic into a full length movie.

WAY: I got swept up in the Hollywood thing.

B: But it doesn’t pan out.

WAY: That’s actually one of the reasons why there was such a big gap between comics, is because I was really, you know, I was trying- at the end of the day, I was trying to be helpful. If this was gonna be a movie version of what Gabriel and I had made, I wanted it to be great so I put in a lot of time and it kept me away from the comics.

B: But then Netflix hits you up and is interested in making this into a series.

WAY: Right.

B: I guess I'm curious, as someone who just initially wanted to make just a really good comic, what about turning that project into a television show was interesting?

WAY: Straight up, I want to make a great comic and that’s all I’m really interested in. If I can write great comics, you’ll have great material to make TV shows. So let me focus on that.

B: In other words, Gerard wanted to focus on the comics and let someone else adapt it.

WAY: And that’s when Steve came in and he changed things and he ran with it.

STEVE BLACKMAN: I’m Steve Blackman, I’m the showrunner and I’m executive producer.

B: Steve is a master at adapting books, comics, and film into television. Before The Umbrella Academy, he’d worked on shows like Fargo, Legion, and Altered Carbon, all of which originated from other sources. So he knew coming in that adaptation can be tricky work.

BLACKMAN: At first, I think Gerard and Gabriel, who co-did this with him, were very protective of the work like parents of their baby. And I think I had to prove to them initially that I would love and protect this child that they had worked on for so many years, so here I am, an outsider coming in and they were very nice to me, but I could see there was like, “Is this guy gonna totally screw up our baby here?”

B: Is it something that you can come to the table with Gerard and be like, “Hey, here’s my arsenal of adaptations, this is why it will work.”

BLACKMAN: Yeah, I worked on the show Fargo for three years. Fargo was obviously based on the Joel and Ethan Coen movie from 1996. I don’t think Gerard had ever seen my shows, I don’t think he watches a lot of television, so for him, it didn’t matter what I’d done before. It’s just what I was gonna do in the here and now on this show. I wasn’t intimidated by the challenge but I really did sort of have a sense of I know which direction I’m going.

B: What was your first initial reaction? Were you sort of like, “Oh, maybe I’ve never done anything like this, or this does feel familiar to other work that I’ve done.” Or, “I can do this, this is right up my alley.”

BLACKMAN: Well, what I liked about it from the beginning was what I saw in the subject matter and I saw a dysfunctional family. But right away, I was very inspired by Wes Anderson’s work. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of those movies that really was always something I truly loved. So, I saw that in this show.

Five: An entire square block, 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but not a single drop of coffee. Vanya: Dad hated caffeine. Klaus: Well he hated children too and he had plenty of us.

BLACKMAN: It was a family show, it was a very relatable dysfunctional family show that I wanted to tell.

WAY: Steve’s a great collaborator. Steve Blackman, the showrunner, he had a vision. I respected him and his vision. I realized it was gonna be different from the comic, and I let him run with it because he cared deeply about it.

BLACKMAN: My first conversation with Gerard over the phone, I said to him, I told him one of the words was subversive, we wanted to subvert the expectation of what a superhero show could be because there were many other shows, either on the air or coming down the pipe to be next, and we wanted this to stand out. And that was sort of the first hurdle with me, was to say to Gerard that I could do that and I could definitely make this thing feel special. And right away he said, “Okay, yeah. You get it.”

B: You’ve adapted something like Fargo which is a unique adaptation, right? You’re adapting from a different medium, like a feature film. Does that change the way you understand adaptation?

BLACKMAN: At a story point of view, no, I don’t think they’re that different. I think adapting a story, whether it's a graphic novel or the source material comes from a movie, a book, there’s a lot of care into doing it that the tricky thing is, I need to put my creative spin on it. I had Gerard and Gabriel, who lived with this for ten years, and then I have to come in and say, “Look, I’m going to honor you. At the same time, what is the Steve Blackman part of the show? How can I add my spin to it?”

B: For fans of the comic who’ve seen season 1 of the show, you’ll recognize some of that Steve Blackman spin. For example, the group who governs the laws of time in the comics, the Temps Aeternalis, in the TV show they become the Commission, an entire bureaucratic system running and adjusting linear time. Steve made some other changes too.

WAY: One of the things that I thought was an ingenious idea was making Ben a ghost that Klaus could communicate with. I was most impressed by that change.

Ben: You know what the worst part of being dead is? You’re stuck. Nowhere to go, nowhere to change, that’s the real torture if you gotta know. Watching your brother take for granted everything you lost, and pissing it all away.

B: Perhaps the biggest change from the comic to the show is the diversity of the characters. Diverse in race, diverse in region, diverse in sexual orientation, these characters on screen look a lot more like what the world actually looks like.

WAY: It’s built into it. They’re all from different places, they’re all from different countries, so I think that’s really the biggest improvement on the source material, is how diverse it is.

B: Steve felt the pressure of both fan expectations, and Gerard and Gabriel’s trust in him.

BLACKMAN: There’s nothing worse than having pre-existing source material and having the fans dislike it. You want to make the fans feel honored and respected, at the same time I felt it was incredibly important that Gerard and Gabriel walked out of this thinking, “He did a good job.” If they hated it, I would’ve been crushed. If the fans hated it, I think I’d also be crushed. I knew I couldn’t make everybody happy, but I wasn’t doing a page for page translation. My adaptation wasn’t gonna be that.

B: The adaption worked. Season 1 was a massive success. In the finale of the first season, the Academy thinks they’ve managed to stop the end of the world from happening, but unintentionally, they’ve actually just initiated it. The moon has been destroyed and its remnants are now heading directly for Earth.

Five: We might as well accept our fate because in less than a minute we’re gonna be vaporized. Diego: What’s your idea then? Five: We use my ability to time travel, but this time I’ll take you with me. Luther: You can do that?

B: The family, latching onto their time traveling brother Five, manage to escape the chaos. But we’re left to wonder where and when they’ll turn up, and that’s where season 2 begins.

Five: We brought the end of the world back here with us. Klaus: Oh my god, again?

BLACKMAN: It’s a pretty crazy journey this year and I think people will be hooked. I hope they binge the hell out of it and love every second of it.

B: Coming up in this season of Behind the Scenes, we’ll be taking you on that crazy journey with the people who make it happen.

“We hired meteorologists, we knew that snow was gonna come, but we had planned it. We went away for a day, we came back, and there was four feet of snow on the ground.”

“It’s 60s Dallas. Okay, so that’s a very different story for Allison. We have to talk about this somehow. Her experience is just different from her siblings.”

EMMY LAMPMAN: And a lot of people would come up to me and apologize for doing their job and I was like, “Please stop apologizing.”

“That was a wishlist fight scene that Steve had always wanted to do.”

“So we actually had our guys throwing plates up in the air and taking photos of them to try to get these UFO imageries.”

“You know, we have a new point in our resume: Can produce and deliver a show during a pandemic.”

B: Behind the Scenes of The Umbrella Academy is a Netflix and Pineapple Street Studios Production. I’m your host, Brandon Jenkins. Make sure to subscribe, rate, and review this podcast. It really does help other people find it. Thank you all for listening.

#behind the scenes of the umbrella academy #episode 1 #gerard way #gabriel ba #steve blackman #full transcription

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bonsaiiiiiii · 4 years

Text

100 Weird AU's? Yes.

So, I had these AU prompts on my phone for quite a while, and I was actually thinking about using them. And what better way to do it than using them with the Tracy's?

Reading and reading these prompts again (and under the gentle guidance of @willow-salix ) I thought that these prompts doesn't exactly match the brothers' everyday situation, but what if we push it past its limit? Yes, biting more that you can chew can be a little difficult, but I don't think it will be impossible. And that's where this challenge is born!

Get the Tracy's out of International Rescue's bubble and let them live an everyday situation as normal people! They can also be medieval nobles or even futuristic robots, the choice's up to you! You can choose from soo many things others don't even think about (and not even me, for a while)!

Many thanks to @tag2060 for the cover and @willow-salix for the support (both emotional and 'fic-ical'. I love both of you💚

NOTE: THESE PROMPTS AREN'T ALL MINE. I TOOK THEM FROM A GIRL I'M NOT IN CONTACT WITH ANYMORE, BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE THEM. ALL CREDITS FOR THESE AU'S GO TO HER, WHATEVER IS HER NAME (lmao). THE GOLD MARKED ONES (7, 11, 20, 23, 39, 47, 63, 64, 70, 83, 89, 91, 93, 96, 100) ARE ALL MINE, IN SUBSITUTION OF A FEW THAT WERE THERE, SO CREDIT FOR THE GOLDEN MARKED ONES GOES TO ME, BUT NOT EVERY ONE OF THEM.

NOTE²: SOME OF THE PROMPTS CONTAIN STRONG THEMES, LIKE DEPRESSION AND SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU'RE SENSIBLE TO THESE THEMES, DON'T DO THEM, NOBODY FORCES YOU IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

To participate in this challenge, all you have to do is take one of the AU prompts from the list, one or more (or all) Tracy characters, and post your fic (can be a ficlet, or a series) under the tag #100weirdTracys and #100weirdAUs.

If you don't want to participate, please don't harass/bully me. I made this challenge just for fun, and I don't want for it to feel like something bad. In fact, I don't even regret doing this thing, even if it's strange.

Ah, I almost forgot: this challenge will be over in December, so you have 4 months to choose a prompt and make a fic about it. On December I'll review all the fics, but I'll always be reblogging and reading during these 4 months lol.

If you want to tell me something, hit me up on DM's! I hope you have fun with those prompts and those bois!

(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ

TO RESUME:

• Swearing is allowed.

• You can write as many words as you want!

• Oc's and muses can pop in too!

• Make sure to tag your fic(s) under the '#100weirdTracys' and '#100weirdAUs' tags, so that I can find them easily.

• Always tag or contact me if you need help with anything! I'll be more than glad to help you!

• If you decide to do the mature prompts (19, 90, just to state an example) please refrain from using a too mature language and don't go further than making up. I don't like that kind of language, so it would be peachy to just avoid writing so they make wild sex behind a bush. Any kind of very mature fic or language won't be read by me, I'm sorry. You can still use those prompts, but don't work their bed life too much.

• Any dialect or first language apart from english is more than welcome in this yard! I would love even to read snippets of foreign language in fics, as long as there's a translation near it, but you're not forced to write in another language. If you don't feel comfortable doing it just don't do it, even if I'm telling you. (For the record, I love Irish so much I could listen to a person speaking this language for hours and you won't hear me complaining).

• I will accept this challenge in whatever form it takes, be it a fic, a drawing, a song, etc. I’m open to anything and I watch everything that comes before me!

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

That said, you can find the prompts down here:⬇️

#1 I saved you from drowning!AU

#2 I broke into your house at two in the morning because I was drunk and I thought it was my house!AU

#3 I am a door-to-door seller please buy something!AU

#4 I grabbed the wrong luggage at the airport!AU

#5 I know we hate each other, but a wedding would be more convenient for both of us!AU

#6 I accidentally poured you a love potion!AU

#7 I sent you 12 messages but you left me on read!AU

#8 I am your secret admirer and I leave you anonymous cards!AU

#9 Sorry, but I was first in line!AU

#10 We don’t know each other but let's pretend to be together because someone is bothering me!AU

#11 We pack up to do a funny trip but we end up in Bolivia without fuel!AU

#12 Locked in quarantine and we're bored! AU

#13 I do everything to find out the identity of this superhero and you try to mislead me because it’s really you!AU

#14 I got into a taxi just to find out it was already occupied!AU

#15 I called the wrong number!AU

#16 I got into the wrong car OMG I'm ashamed, but while you’re there why don’t you give me a ride!AU

#17 I found a wallet and my business is to find the owner and return it!AU

#18 I am a street artist and you complain that I play in front of your house at night!AU

#19 I caught you watching porn!AU

#20 We're two strangers that start chatting while waiting for the bus!AU

#21 Nosy and sloppy roommates!AU

#22 Old childhood friends who come back after years!AU

#23 I got shot to the arm/leg but you're there to save me and OMG ILY!AU

#24 We’re sitting next to each other on a plane and please don’t throw up on me!AU

#25 We accidentally switched phones!AU

#26 We are both contestants in a reality show and let's pretend to be together because the audience will ship us!AU

#27 I am a wedding planner and my ex’s wedding had to happen to me!AU

#28 I learned sign language to communicate with you!AU

#29 Professional model and novice photographer!AU

#30 Sorry I ran you over!AU

#31 We make out and then I find out that you are my roommate’s boyfriend!AU

#32 I’m quoting aloud the last book of a series and I’m spoiling you!AU

#33 It is a universally acknowledged truth that a bachelor with a large fortune must be looking for a wife!AU

#34 I am a Partisan and you are a fascist!AU(Italy during World War II!AU)

#35 I am the blood of the dragon!AU (Iron Throne!AU)

#36 Your dog is hitting on mine!AU

#37 I’m depressed and I decide to call a hotline!AU

#38 You are my soulmate but I am in love with someone else!AU

#39 Strange encounter at tattoo shop!AU

#40 On my mark, unleash hell!AU(Roman Empire!AU)

#41 I am an Elf, don’t look at me for ears I am ashamed of!AU(The Lord of the Rings!AU)

#42 Maybe my life should be more than just survival!AU(The 100!AU)

#43 I am an activist and I am trying to convert you to the cause!AU

#44 We are occupying the school but you are a spoilsport!AU

#45 All our friends are drunk and we're not!AU

#46 We’ve been together for three months and now you’re telling me you’re a werewolf!AU

#47 X has to go into a rocket to the moon and Y has to train X!

#48 Knight in shining armor and damsel in distress!AU

#49 We reluctantly team up against the zombie apocalypse!AU

#50 I’m a vampire and your smell is driving me nuts!AU(Twilight!AU)

#51 Monsters have attacked the Earth and the only way to save humanity is aboard giant robots piloted by two people who must maintain a mental union!AU(Pacific Rim!AU)

#52 My timer stopped as soon as I saw you!AU(Soulmate!AU)

#53 I need a lawyer and you are the best!AU

#54 I’m a Viking and I plundered your ship!AU

#55 I’m a classic dandy from the Regency Age and you’re just a silly girl from the lower middle class!AU

#56 I’m a policeman and you’re an intrusive journalist and I really shouldn’t give you any information about the new murder!AU

#57 You are a wannabe actress and I am a theatrical director who is losing patience and health!AU

#58 Due to a computer error, X and Y become college roommates!AU

#59 X wants to see the world of Y, how he lives and what he usually does, and ends up spending a night in prison!AU

#60 I attend the yoga course just to watch how flexible the instructor is!AU

#61 I am a bounty hunter and you are my prey!AU

#62 I am a secret spy and pretend to be your friend only to get information about your father!AU

#63 I discuss with you about a thing but you have in mind another!AU

#64 We are forced to be best friends just because our moms were best friends too but you're too bossy for me!AU

#65 We broke up but I never changed emergency contacts and now I’m in the hospital and they called you!AU

#66 I am an angel and you are a demon!AU

#67 I hit you on the balls during a game of paintball and oh my god I am so sorry!AU

#68 We live in a dystopian world where your partner is chosen by society!AU(Matched!AU)

#69 I’m a dragon trainer I’ll prove to you that they are peaceful creatures!AU(Dragon Trainer!AU)

#70 Date at japanese restaurant!AU

#71 You’re a cheerleader and I’m a punk and we live in two different worlds!AU

#72 I was a zombie and I was "re-animated" but you treat me like I’m still a monster!AU(In the Flesh!AU)

#73 I am your son’s teacher and I am calling to talk to you about his conduct, would he also come to dinner with me!AU

#74 I am an Achaean warrior and you Trojan and we are fighting the Trojan War!AU

#75 I met my asshole boss at the bar but I found out he’s pretty cool!AU

#76 It was not my intention to touch your ass, it’s just that the bus is crowded, it’s not my fault ok!AU

#77 I went fishing and accidentally fished a mermaid!AU

#78 I just committed a crime and I need to use you as a hostage!AU

#79 You’re the bastard who always parks in front of my door and in spite I’ll scratch your car!AU

#80 I accidentally went back in time and fell in love with you, too bad you’re a barbarian!AU

#81 I urgently need you to fix my computer but please don’t judge me for my chronology!AU

#82 I work on the cruise ship where you are spending your holidays!AU

#83 I'm out in the rainstorm without an umbrella because the weather forecast was sunny!AU

#84 I hugged the wrong person from behind!AU

#85 Celebrity on the run and ordinary citizen confused!AU

#86 Stuck in a ranch cleaning horse poop but it doesn’t matter because that cowboy is a badass!AU

#87 We got married in Vegas, but we’re total strangers!AU

#88 But, officer, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just smoking a joint, want a hit!AU

#89 X is an astronaut and Y is a weird but funny alien that likes to scream, overreact and laugh!AU

#90 I slept with you for a bet but I loved it and I’d like to keep seeing you!AU

#91 I reveal to some friends that you wear boxers/underwear with green aliens on them but you're behind me and oh gosh total shame!AU

#92 Oops I accidentally entered a busy dressing room!AU

#93 You're a stranger but I keep crossing paths with you and I'm kinda confused right now!AU

#94 X is a medium and Y a ghost!AU

#95 X is a guardian angel and Y wants to die!AU

#96 X accidentally enters in a cat and Y has to rescue it from up a tree!AU

#97 X risks losing the house because Y’s company wants to buy the land!AU

#98 I’m an artist and I need a model do you want to pose for me!AU

#99 I’m not really sick but the new doctor is so beautiful that I found out I have a disease with an unpronounceable name!AU

#100 A strange job application!AU

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

If you find them more practical, I also have some photos down here with all the prompts organized:⬇️

That said, enjoy! Hope it brings you joy and makes you happy while you do it!💙💚🧡💛❤💜💖🖤

#100weirdTracys #100weirdAUs #Thunderbirds are go #ThunderChallenge #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #oc's #muses #fic #drawings #first challenge ever!#enjoy!

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Torrential (3/3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: more cursing, more fluff, more Dean being totally in love and not knowing what to do

Summary: Deans tries to keep his feelings buried, but its extremely hard when Y/N is just so damn perfect.

A/n: I’m sorry this took so long to finish, i currently have the worst case of writers block and it feels like I've been stuck in an endless loop of zero inspiration. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

It was like some sort of weird drug.

That was one of the only ways Dean could describe his feelings. Everything was fine one second, and the next? You’d just waltz into the room and his palms would get sweaty and he would suddenly be stumbling on his words.

Okay- so more accurately you were like a drug, and Dean was addicted. He partially blamed Sam for this. He was the one that had helped him realize his feelings towards you. His little brother had got him hooked on the drug that was Y/N Y/L/N.

For a moment he also blamed the damn thunderstorm still raging outside. It hadn’t let up and with each passing day Dean swore that he was falling deeper in love with you. You would still sit with the door open while you read and every once and awhile you would just patter into the room drenched to the bone with a smile that out shined the sun smeared across your face.

You were addicted to the rain just like the older Winchester was addicted to you. You came in drenched with water and Dean stayed drenched in love. It was somehow poetic, and the hunter had no idea what to do with it. He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

You had gotten up from your armchair awhile ago, disappearing into the confines of the bunker to do knows what, leaving him to steep in silence as he tried to come to terms with the truth. Even if it had been days, he still found it hard to believe. Should he tell you? Or should he just keep it buried as his little secret until eventually time ran out?

So caught up in his thoughts, He almost didn’t notice your return until you were siding up next to where he was seated, the laptop in front of him going unnoticed as he stayed locked in the zone.

“Grilled cheese for your thoughts?” You smiled, offering over the delicacy you had balanced on a plate, earning his attention as he turned to look at you.

“You made me grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah? You seemed a bit out of it earlier so I thought what better way to gain your attention than to bribe you with cheese and bread?” You grinned, sticking the plate out for him to take.

“You know me so well.”

“I know.” Sinking down into the chair besides him, you crossed your arms. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been acting so off lately?”

“I haven’t been acting off.”

Raising an eyebrow, you swiped half of the sandwich. “Try again cowboy. You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days.”

Shit. Had he really been that off? He thought he had been covering it up just fine. Clearly that was not the case.

Dean let out a sigh, picking off little pieces of crust from his portion of the sandwich. He just had to try and cover it up again. Throw you off so you didn’t poke anymore. He was afraid that if you did he wouldn’t be able to hold anything back.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?”

and there went that plan. . .

“A walk? Dean, it’s raining.” You shot him a quizzed look, his question catching you even more off guard. “And no offense but I thought you hated the rain.”

“I don’t hate it!” He fired back, standing up and reaching for his coat. “It’s just not- my ideal weather.”

Watching him walk towards the stairs, you tried to piece together what was going on with him, only to come up blank. You couldn’t for the life of you pin point why he was acting so weird.

“You coming or not?”

“Sheesh, calm down. Let me put on my jacket.” Tugging the canvas material over you body you let your feet carry you quickly across the room and up the stairs, Dean grabbing the lone umbrella that stayed propped against the railing most days.

Holding the door open for you, you stepped out into what felt like a never ending downpour. Rain beaded down the paintwork of the impala, bouncing off of every hard surface. The sound coming from every direction except down and the storm drains bubbling with brown runoff from the lonely dirt road. There was a subtle swoosh sound from behind you and a moment later the feeling of water dripping onto your head ceased, Dean standing besides you with the open umbrella:

“You know, you’re probably the last person I ever expected to just get up and go on a walk with. You shun exercise.”

“Oh shut up. This isn’t exercise.” Stepping up the stone stairs side by side, Dean adjusted his grip on the umbrella, making sure you were both protected from the downpour- not that you cared though. “This is- this is a leisurely stroll.”

“Ah. Got it. . . Still not like you at all.” You shot him an amused grin before linking your arm with his and pulling yourself closer to the Winchester. Thankfully for Dean, you hadn’t noticed his surprised look when you did it, the tender action catching him off guard as he looked down at your linked arms. Everything in him was telling him to pull away, to sever the connection before he fell even further. . . But he couldn’t. It was like a magnet kept him close to you, making it impossible for him to do anything rationally.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of your boots hitting the shallow puddles almost being drowned out by the droplets smacking against the material of the umbrella.

“Why do you like the rain so much?” He suddenly questioned, shifting to stick his free hand into his pocket. “You never told me.”

And like so many times before, Dena watched as your eyes lit up, a soft smile pulling at your lips and making the corners of your eyes crinkle. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just wondering.”

“You want the long answer or the sort one?”

Dean shrugged, doing his best to act casual in the whole situation. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

You smile grew at his response, taking in the hunter as you did so. How could someone be so complicated and so simple at the same time?

“I love the rain. I always have. It brings life and fills the earth. It smells good too- it smells fresh. Clean.” You paused. “And the sound? People always explain it as a steady pitter patter but I always compared it to the crackle of an old radio coming to life. The rain has always made me feel safe and secure. kind of like you.”

You paused once more, looking over the hunter you still linked arms with, taken back by his expression.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Is it really that cheesy?”

“No,no.” Dean quickly interjected, the soft smile on his lips slowly growing, eyes full as he gave you his attention. “I just like hearing you talk about things you love. You get excited.”

At that your grin grew, eyes almost as bright as his. “And what about you, Dean Winchester?”

“What about me?”

“What things do you love? What things make you happy? Besides double bacon cheeseburgers and your car of course.”

Dean tried to hide the falter in his steps, almost soaking his foot in a puddle with the action. So. . . He may have dug himself into a small hole with that one small comment.

Quick, Dean. Give her an answer. . . Preferably not the first thing that comes to mind.

“Y/N, you already know the things I love.”

“I know some things. I doubt I know everything.” You corrected him, giving his bicep a squeeze as you did.

“I love hunting, and classic rock.”

“Dean, I already know those things!”

The hunter shrugged in defense, practically white knuckling the umbrella handle in a futile attempt to keep himself in check. “I don’t know what to tell you Y/N! You know everything about me!”

“Oh c’mon. There has to be something. Give me something that will surprise me.”

“Y/n, I’m telling you. You already know what I love. I can’t surprise you.”

With a groan you un-linked your arm from his, once again stepping out into the downpour, tilting your face skyward. “And I’m telling you: I sincerely doubt that.”

“You do know if you do that your gonna have to walk back in wet clothes, right?” Dean grinned, watching as you hopped into a puddle, the childish part of you shining through with the small action as you got distracted.

“Does it look like I care?”

And then before the older Winchester even had a chance to react to ripped the umbrella from his grasp and snapped it shut, successful drenching him in a similar fashion to yourself.

“Y/N! What the hell?!”

“It’s just water, silly.” You laughed, suddenly choosing to hop from puddle to puddle momentarily. “Sure, it doesn’t look partially nice from under the umbrella, but once you’re out in it, it ain’t so bad.”

Squinting through the sheet of rain dividing you, Dean took in your features. tiny rivulets of water slid down your face, dripping of the top of your nose and collecting on your lips. Your hair at this point slicked back by the amount of water it had collected as well.

God, you were beautiful.

“You.”

Your childish antics quickly ceased, your figure spinning around to face him. “What?”

“You asked me what do I love. That’s my answer.” He swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to do so. “You. I’m- im in love with you.”

It was almost painful to stand there and watch you. Your eyes widened and you froze in the middle of a particularly big puddle, the last of the ripples you had made slowly beginning to fade. You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Okay, you gonna say something or you just gonna stand there and make me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am?”

You stayed silent for another minute, successfully stunned to silence by his words. Dean Winchester. . . In love with you?

“Me?”

“Yes, You.”

“Are you sure? I’m fucking crazy.”

“Yes, I’m damn sure. Why do you think I’ve been so quiet lately?” He paused, drawing in a breath.

“That’s why you were so quiet?! I thought you were mad at me!”

“I wasn’t mad at you!” Stomping through the small puddles, Dean came to a halt in front of you, wiping the rain from his vision, even if it only lasted a moment. “I just- I didn’t know what to do. I love you- I’ve been in love with you Y/N. Probably long before I even realized I was.” It was like the rain was a whole different kind of liquid courage, because like a switch being flicked the words just flowed out easily.

There was silence from your end again as you took in his words and then slowly but surely a smile spread across your face. “Dean.”

“What?”

“Well, I thought we were saying things we loved, right?”

It took a minute for the gears to click into place in his brain but you could pinpoint the moment they aligned, Deans eyes widening at the realization. “Wait- you-“ he never finished because you quickly flung your arms around him, and sweetly pressed your lips against his.

And then the bastard slipped. He fucking slipped. You don’t know how but all off a sudden his arms were around you, and his feet went out from underneath him, and Dean Winchester successfully pulled you to the muddy earth with him, your heads bonking during the decent as you let out a yell.

Except this time the hunter softened your fall as you landed on his chest, earning a harsh oof from him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry-“ bracing your hands on either side of his head, you pushed most of your body weight off him, your face hovering bunches from his own.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you? I think I crushed your lungs.” The words slowly fading on your lips as you quickly lost yourself in his eyes.

“Y/N.”

“Dean.” His name left your lips breathlessly, and then his arms snakes around your waist and pulled you flush against him, and you were kissing again. Dean swore he could taste the rainwater on your lips, and they were even more lush then they looked. His hands curled along your back, tracing your shape as he did.

Okay- so maybe you were right. The real thing wasn’t so bad once you stepped out into the downpour. It might be unsettling at first- but the feeling soon melts away.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Maybe love is like rain. Sometimes gentle, sometimes torrential, flooding, eroding, joyful, steady, filling the earth, collecting in underground springs. When it rains, when we love, life grows. - Carol Gilligan

SPN Taglist (still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @patdsinner33 @vicmc624

#dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #supernatural #bi-danvers0 #bi-danvers writing

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hardforbenhardy · 5 years

Note

This one comes from personal experience. Anyway... Reader is at the beach in a bikini and Ben (stranger) makes a comment about how ugly a birthmark on her upper leg- lower bum cheek area is and she gets really upset. A few year later they meet up, start a relationship and in the middle of some smutty stuff he realises that she's the one he was rude to. lots of fluff at the end? Hope that's okay? xx

beach body ready | benxreader

I’m sorry if this isn’t quite what you expected, but I tried to do it as much justice as I could! Especially since it’s personal experience - I personally can’t see Ben doing something like this so I tried to find an even field where it is like Ben as much as possible but still sticking to your experience. Hope you enjoy!

summary: you were always pretty confident in your body, until a rude remark about a birthmark set you in the tracks of insecurity. years later, you come to find you never let that go, and find it difficult to face

warnings: insecurities, rude remarks about birthmark, swearing, light smut

word count: 4.9k

requested by @queenlover05 - i hope you love it! (sorry if the ending is a little shit, i wasn’t sure what to write towards the end)

You grew up right by the ocean, waking to the sound of the waves on the sands. You swam of course, and to you swimming meant briny waves colliding with your faces, not the chlorinated pools that were further into the town. Even in the summertime, there were days you didn’t want to swim or catch crabs; you’d take your fingers and draw a hopscotch grid in the sand. Pebbles were always easy to find. You and your friends could spend hours there, hopping from one foot to two, spinning and making your way back to the start. You can still recall the softness of the sand, your feet erasing the numbers and the lines as you went. Some days you’d even play long enough for the tide to claim our game. Then you would slink home under the setting sun, only to repeat the fun the next day.

So, returning there in your early adulthood was like a dream come true. After moving to the city to study at university, you never really got the chance to visit the place you called home as much as you’d have hoped to. You had almost forgotten the way the hot sand slid between your toes, or the way the cool breeze drifting through your locks, and the taste of the saliferous water on your taste buds. Almost.

*****

“Over hewre, YN!” your little sister shouted, jumping up and down in an outburst of pure elation. You laughed loudly, picking up the light beach ball from the ground and throwing as well as you could. After a few times of throwing the ball to each other, you began failing miserably when the wind caught it in its breeze, causing it to fly off to the side.

“This isn’t going to work, Liv! It’s too windy!” you shouted back, both giggling at the sight of the ball floating away in the ocean. The 5 year old was quick to chase after it, throwing herself into the cold water and doggy-paddling to keep up with it. You ran in after her, not only to make sure she was safe, but mostly because it looked even more fun than being on the land at that point. The sudden chill of the ocean made you squeal, Olivia laughing in response.

“It’s not even cowd, YN! Come on, I want to swim!”

“I just got in Liv!” you exclaimed, racing to catch up with the small girl who was now so deep she couldn’t touch the ocean floor with her feet. She definitely took after you and you tendency to take risks; one of your favourite things to do was just float in the ocean and let if drift you where it wanted, it made you feel free. A good 20 minutes later of splashing around in the water and getting your hair positively soaked, you started to feel yourself get hungry. “How about we go grab some ice cream and sit on the towels for a bit, huh?”

Of course, Olivia bolted back onto the sand, grabbing her towel to wrap around her stomach and waiting incredibly impatiently for you to follow suit. As you emerged from the water, your bikini bottom pulled up a little higher than usual, but you left you it be not thinking much of it. Thankfully the ice cream van was not far from where you had settled with your things, so you were okay with leaving your stuff alone for a few minutes. With her small body hoisted on your right hip, you turned to her; “Okay Liv what do you want?”

“Stwawbewwy ice cweam! With chocowate sauce! And a chocowate fwake!” she cheered, pointing at all the different parts of her creation that she could see in the van. The man behind the window chuckled lightly, following her hand to grab each piece, and quickly whipped up the concoction for the small girl. “Thank woo!”

“Is that all?”

“Oh, erm, yes that’s it thank you” you grinned, before looking over at your sister to see remnants of the melting ice cream all around her cheeks and chin, as if she’d shoved her face straight into it. You chuckled loudly, seeing her shoot you a guilty, toothy grin in response. “Actually, could we get a few napkins as well if that’s okay.”

After paying for the ice cream and resulting napkins, you headed back to sit down for a while; you had forgotten quite how exhausting the beach could be. IN the direction of your towels, you noticed a man standing beside them, bending over to pick up something. In the split second he stood back up, you took in the sight. The boy was probably the most attractive man you had ever seen; he had the most gorgeous emerald eyes with the smallest flecks of gold in them that made them gleam naturally in the summer sunlight. And you couldn’t deny how built he was either. An incredibly built six pack, with an arousing v-line which disappeared into the red swimming trucks he was wearing, and his thighs; God his thighs. Your favourite part of him, however, was his soaked, golden locks; you couldn’t deny, you were a sucker for hair.

“S-sorry, can I help you?” you stuttered out, trying not to choke on your words at the blonde in front of you. He hadn’t noticed you at first, but you saw his eyes quickly rake up and down your body before answering.

“Sorry, my nephew threw this and it landed on your towels. I didn’t mean to bother you” he excused, stumbling over his own words from nerves. You weren’t expecting the deepness, with just a hint of sultry, in his British voice; it sent butterflies straight to your tummy. You saw his hands holding a frisbee, and immediately understood.

“Oh, it-it’s fine. I’m YN” you grinned, holding your hand out to shake his. He took the offer, taking your hand into his, and you couldn’t help but notice how rough and calloused they were. God. “Ben, are you from around here or-”

You were quite sure he could feel your hand lightly shaking from nervousness, but that was the least of your problems at that point, especially considering Liv was now nowhere to be seen. Your head shot around the beach, catching the small girls body heading towards the sea, ice cream in one and piles of sand in the other. “I-I’m sorry, just- Liv, get back here! Not in the sea while your eating your ice cream remember, we sit on the towels while we eat. Otherwise, the ocean might steal it and we don’t want that do-”

“Have you always had that?” Ben’s voice chuckled from behind you, making you shoot around confused.

“Huh, sorry? Had what?”

“That thing… on your leg?” he answered, pointing to your upper leg-lower bum cheek area. You knew exactly what he was referring to; you had a birthmark in that exact area. It wasn’t common that people would ask about it, but when they did, they were polite and respectful about it. Which was why it threw you off a little that Ben had found it funny.

“Oh, erm, yeah. It’s a birthmark, why?” you said with puzzlement, not quite expecting what he was to say next.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, it’s not exactly the prettiest sight.”

“Erm, excuse me?” you scoffed out, furrowing your brows in disbelief. Was this random man really making a comment about this? You were usually able to brush off the bad comments about it, people had said before how it was different to any birthmark they’d seen before or that maybe you should have it checked by a doctor, but that was always in private and you could explain the situation. At this point, Ben was just being downright rude and it was embarrassing

“Well, I thought you were pretty hot until I saw that. Don’t get me wrong, I know you can’t help it but like it’s pretty unattractive” you were left stunned at the remark. Never had you expected words like that to come out of a mouth of someone who seemed to be such a gentleman. You now understand the meaning of don’t judge a book by its cover to a t.

“Erm, sorry could you leave? I don’t care for your opinions” you retaliated, a grimace showing on your face. You could see some slight hesitation and guilt on his face, as if he hadn’t meant to upset, but you considered him stupid if he thought saying such things wouldn’t render you at least somewhat angry. He backed off, raising his arms in the air as if to sarcastically say ‘sorry’ before jogging to meet his nephew on the other side of a big umbrella. You quickly went back to your spot, plonking down on the towel and huffing in defeat. Your mind couldn’t help but glaze over his words - ‘unattractive’, ‘not the prettiest sight’. You tried so desperately to hold back the tears that had began brimming in the corners of your eyes, but there came a point where you weren’t able to stop one from rolling down. Your little sister popped up from beside you, noticing how downcast you were, pouting out her bottom lip in over exaggeration.

“It’s okay YN. Why are you wad?” she reassured you, jumping down on your stomach and wrapping her arms around your shoulders to give you biggest hug you thought possible, yet you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact she still had ice cream smeared all around her mouth. You chuckled lightly, planting a big kiss on her cheek and wiping the tear from your cheek.

“I’m not Liv, don’t worry. It’s just, people say mean words sometimes, words about things people can’t change, or things people may be insecure about. And it can hurt their feelings” you explained, sitting her on your knee and sniffling back anymore tears about to drop.

“If it makes you feewl better, I think you’re biwthmark is vewy pwetty” she smiled, reaching her hand round to rub the mark and give you another quick hug, as you mouthed ‘thank you’. She jumped up off your lap, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the see; “Let’s go swimming again!”

You spent another hour or two in the ocean with the little girl, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over to the blonde man every few minutes. You couldn’t let what he said go, and yet he looked like nothing had even happened when 30 minutes after the incident he caught your eyes and threw over a friendly smile. You tried to send one back, probably failing miserably.

“I thought you were pretty hot until I saw that��

** 3 years later **

You had been practically craving a coffee the whole morning, your lack of energy due to your work piling up had been swallowing you whole and you needed something to keep you awake. It was only the fresh afternoon, but you were sure you would drift back into sleep if you didn’t find a source of caffeine from somewhere, so you popped round to the local coffee shop.

“One large latte macchiato please, thank you” you asked the cashier, tapping your card before taking a seat at a small table just across from the counter. Scrolling through your Instagram feed, you saw a familiar face pop up a few times on an account you were even aware you followed; Ben Hardy? You clicked on his page to investigate further, when you realised exactly where you knew the guy from. It was the same guy who you had met at the beach a few years ago, the same guy who had insulted your birthmark. You were over his comment by now, it didn’t really affect you anymore but it had admittedly sent you into a bit of a frenzy for a few months after it. You didn’t wear shorts, or you wouldn’t wear a bikini to the beach, you refused to have sex with any guys. It weirded you out a little though to find him on your feed, was he famous? Posts of friends, photo shoots, a few familiar actors… press junkies. Premieres. Movie sets? He was an actor.

Ben Hardy was an actor

He seemed like he was doing pretty well for himself, and you noticed he was staring in a new movie alongside some of your favourite actors. You popped him a follow, liking a few of his recent pictures, and almost instantly you got a DM and follow. Off him.

Ben Hardy

hey, this is YN right? from the beach like 3 years ago?

You panicked, surprised that he even remembered you or the incident, but then again you remember him. What’s the difference? What shocked you even more was that he was being so friendly; did he not remember what he had said to you?

You

heyyy ben, yeah it is! surprised you remembered me, especially after what happened haha

Trying to play it cool was not something you were very good at; when you were nervous, you were nervous. Friendly may not have been your approach to the man 3 years ago, but you couldn’t deny seeing him again kick-started that small crush you had felt on the stranger. Maybe what he said, he hadn’t meant.

Ben Hardy

what happened? i literally don’t remember anything except you!

in a good way i swear - god, that sounded bad. im sorry - i remember thinking you were pretty good looking!

Ironic. So he didn't remember. And he seemed like he was taking a relatively amiable approach to getting to know you; maybe it could be a fresh start. If he didn’t remember what had happened, he most likely didn’t remember what had caused it. Maybe he had changed. Hopefully he had changed.

You

oh it was nothing! can barely remember it either! but thank you - can’t say you weren’t either haha

so did you message for a reason or…

Ben Hardy

not really, just thought i’d check in on you considering we didn’t get to speak much when we met. i’m actually back in your town next week, would you maybe want to meet up? grab a coffee and have a chat?

This threw you off. You really, really wanted to. But you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea; I mean you had only met him once, and that one time, he insulted you. Not a good first impression, but you couldn’t help the urge to say yes. And your fingers were typing it out before you could even stop them;

You

yeah that sounds great!

i know the perfect place - in fact i’m sat there right now! they have the best homemade pretzels, they’re to die for!

Ben Hardy

i’ll take your word for it! heres my number - *blah blah* - text me with a good time and place?

Shit. He had just given you his number. Was this a date? Or just two people who had met before simply meeting again. Or what if you got there and it was all an elaborate prank set up by him and his friends to embarrass you in front of everyone. Either way, you had committed to it, and backing out now would make you seem like a pussy. And maybe it wouldn’t go sooo bad. You hoped.

You

can’t wait!

*****

“Babe, I’m back!” you heard his voice shouting through from the front door. Sat on the couch, you were reading a book you had recently taken out from the local library when you heard the commotion of his bags being dropped on the floor. Your head shot around, a grin plastered across your face at the sound of his husky voice. You watched as his blonde hair bobbed into the room, walking towards you and placing a peck to your forehead.

“Missed you” you muttered, leaning your head back further so the second kiss landed on your lips instead. Placing your book down on the side table, you turned to where he had just sat down next to you and cuddled into his side, his warmth sending shivers down your spines.

You almost considered bunking off on the date you planned with Ben, your nerves and insecurities getting the better of you as it got closer to the day you planned. Even texting him a time and place was hard enough for you, but you saw it as a challenge for yourself; you didn’t want to let one small incident ruin your chances with him. So you did text him a time and place. 12, early rise cafe? And you did go on the date. And you did hit it off with him; he was nothing like you remembered. Constantly complimenting you, how gorgeous you looked and how intelligent you were. A kind soul, he described you as at one point. After that, you continued to keep in touch, even when he was away filming he would be sure to put aside at least one hour every night to call you and you would just talk about your day. You caught feelings fast, and what he had said to you years before was long forgotten.

You had now been officially together for 3 months, and you were the happiest you had ever been; he loved you, and you loved him. He reminded you of it every day, with both words and actions - kisses, hugs, occasional squeezes of the bum, saying ‘I love you’, you even caught at him staring at you from time to time while you worked. He felt like the luckiest man on earth. Almost, there was just one thing he wanted to do so badly with you that you were yet to agree to; he wanted to make love to you, show you just how much he truly does love you but physically. And you wanted it too, just the sight of the blonde himself was enough to turn you on, but there was one thing holding you back. You thought maybe you’d let his words go, but he hadn’t seen you naked since that time on the beach, and you couldn’t help but fear the idea of him bringing it up again. What if he left you? What if he thought you were ugly and decided he didn’t want sex? What if he just laughed? What if-

“YN, babe, are you listening?” he cleared his throat, his eyes looking down at you worryingly. You didn’t even realise he had been speaking, too caught up in your own thoughts of doing it (or not) with Ben. He seemed very stressed as he came in, and it was still showing now, so you felt very guilty. “I was saying how Joe mentioned we should all head round to his some time this week for dinner, like a quadruple date or something. I’m down if you are but don’t feel forced, I know you haven’t known them for very long”

“O-oh, yeah that sounds good” you murmured, trying to sound enthusiastic about the suggestion but failing; Ben knew you and his friends didn’t get along very well because they were all actors and knew each other’s, whereas you were just a girl from a small town who had never met any of them. It’s not that you didn’t like them, it’s just that you preferred to keep to yourself and all they would do is ask you questions.

“You don’t seem very enthusiastic”

“I-I want to Ben, I just get very nervous around new people. I promise, I’ll try and make it, but don’t let me hold you back from going” you smiled, watching his face light up at the fact you’d step out of your comfort zone. For him. He kissed you straight on the lips, hand shooting to caress the side of your face lightly and placing the other one on your thigh. You tensed a little at the feeling but grew comfortable to it soon after, it felt nice. And it gradually felt nicer and nicer as he moved further up you thigh to meet the buttons of your jeans. Until he began unbuttoning them. And every thought and insecurity you had encountered before came flooding back; he’s going to see your birthmark, and he’s going to remember exactly what he said at the beach, and he’s going to realise he was right, and he’s going to dump you.

Of course, he noticed the way you froze in your spot, taking a deep breath in. He pulled back immediately, hand still on your thigh but much less tight now, in a more comforting way. “Are you okay? I-I’m sorry, I got caught in the moment, I-”

“It’s fine, Ben. I just- I don’t think we should” you muttered, refusing to make eye contact with the blonde as you twiddled your fingers out of nerves. He could tell something was wrong, he had never seen you so removed and insecure before. But you had been together for 3 months, and he thought it was a good time to start getting intimate; not that he wouldn’t respect your decision, he was just getting a little impatient with being with you and not being able to help the raging boner in his pants nearly every time he saw you.

“Why not?” he questioned, not in a accusatory way but a curious one. He was beginning to get a little insecure himself; did you not want to have sex with him because you didn’t find him attractive? Or because you didn’t think he’d be any good? He couldn’t hear the apprehensive thoughts in your head, but you were struggling to put them to words. He didn’t need to hear them, for when you started tearing up a little before him, he knew something was definitely wrong; “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? You can talk to me about anything”

“I know I can Ben, just not this”

“YN, if whatever is going on in your head is hurting you, we talk about it; I don’t care if you think it’ll be embarrassing, or make me sad or angry. We talk about your problems because that’s what I’m here for”

“It’s… I, erm, I don’t want you to see me naked” you practically the lasts word, so quietly that you weren’t even sure he had heard them at first. But he had, because his eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t even considered the fact he hadn’t seen you in underwear before because you had seen him in just his boxers so many times that he just found it normal. “I don’t want you to leave me”

“I- YN, why would I leave you? I love you, every single part of you. Naked or not. Please, you need to explain what is going on in your head so I can help you” he encouraging, smoothing his hand up and down your thigh in a calming manner. You wanted to tell him, explain what was going on in your brain so he could help, but you didn’t want to; your insecurities got the best of you. Everything had been going so well in your relationship, and you didn’t want something like this to ruin everything you had worked so hard for. You didn’t want one measly birthmark to ruin everything. You loved him, and you wanted to make sure he loved you. After you had stayed silent for a minute or two, Ben was beginning to grow impatient; “YN, please you need to talk to me. I don’t understand how you could feel so insecure over your body when-”

“Because of you!” you cut in, almost screaming the words if your voice hadn’t been so weak. Ben stared at you incredulously, his brain trying to understand what he might say or have said to put you in such a state; he thought you were absolutely perfect, and he told you that nearly every day. Because you are perfect. “Because of what you said at the beach 3 years ago.”

“I-uh, I don’t…”

“You seriously don’t remember?” you scoffed, thinking he must be joking at this point because it was the first time you two had met; he must’ve remembered some of the conversation. You stood in front of him, deciding that it was now or never to show him; you deserved someone better than him if he repeated what he said 3 years ago. Pulling your pants down just enough to reveal the top of your leg, letting Ben finally see the reason you were so reluctant to get naked in front of him. You watched as his mouth open in confusion, and then realisation. “You called it ‘pretty unattractive’ and said how you thought I was hot before you saw it. It hurt Ben, a lot. Having a complete stranger point out and make fun of something that you can’t change. I put it aside at the beginning of our relationship because I really liked you and I hoped you changed; but I can’t help but be scared that you’ll still leave me. That’s why I didn’t want to get intimate yet, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry” Ben mumbled, unable to comprehend a lot of what you had just said. He remembered what he had said, but he never realised how badly you took the words; he didn’t even consider the possibility of hurting you by saying it. He was an ignorant 20-something-year-old who only thought about sex and partying, and so he thought he was just ‘bantering’ as he would’ve called it back then. Watching the way it affected your feelings broke his heart; he had never meant to hurt you, and he never would want hurt you intentionally. “I-I never even considered how that may have made you feel. I don’t even remember much about that day; I can’t excuse what I said at all. I was probably trying to cover up my own insecurities or the fact that I thought you were really attractive. I can’t say sorry enough, but I really am and I want you to know that I think you are the most beautiful person on this planet. And I’m sorry that I made you feel any less than that, and if you decide you don’t want to love me anymore, I understand-”

“Ben.” you interrupted, seeing that he was also now on the brink of tears. He thought you wouldn’t love him. He thought you wouldn’t love him. Not the other way round like you had assumed this situation would go. You let out a small sigh of relief before walking to Ben, who was now sat hunched with his head in his hands. You threw your legs over his to straddle his lap, a common cuddling position for the two of you (one of your personal favourites, but Ben would always get afraid you’d be able to feel his semi every time) “I will always love you, I’m certain of it. I wouldn’t have let myself fall for you if I wasn’t willing to forgive you. I was scared that you wouldn’t love me, that you’d remember how disgusting I am and you’d leave. Trust me, I think this is the most sexually frustrated I’ve ever been, you are too fucking hot to spend all this time around and not get turned on.” you chuckled lowly, Ben joining in before shooting you a smirk and small wink; classic Ben humour. “I just… I let my insecurities get the best of me and that was my fault. I guess I only took it to heart because it was coming from you, usually I can brush those comments off.”

“I’m really sorry, YN, I don’t know how I could make it up to you, I’m so sorry-”

“Ben, you seriously need to stop apologising” you giggled, cupping the soft skin of his cheek and stroking your thumb gently. He went to say it again, catching himself out and looking almost ashamed about it. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?”

“I-I would do anything YN, I love you.” he stuttered, almost surprised you were giving him a second chance as he looked up at you with his baby doll eyes.

“I can think of one way you could, erm, make it up to me?” you muttered, beginning to become embarrassed with what you were saying. He seemed eager though, nodding his head urgently to urge you to say what was on your mind; “show me how much you love me?”

“I-erm, how? You want gifts? Hugs?” he rushed, but you just giggled at his obliviousness to what you were suggesting.

“No, Ben. I want you to make love to me” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck before planting your lips firmly onto his in a moment of passion. He immediately returned the gesture, feeling relief you weren’t nearly as angry at him as he thought you’d be.

“Now, that I can do” he mumbled against your lips, raising to his feet and hoisting your body so he could carry you upstairs.

He vowed the love you forever, and always prove it in every way he could, including making love to you. And he did just that.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben #hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy fluff #borhap #borhap cast #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x female reader #requested #borhap fluff #bohemian rhapsody

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void-knights · 4 years

Text

The Coffee Shop and Students

Square Filled: Coffee Shop AU Pairing: Loki / Sigyn, Tags: coffee shop AU, Modern AU, Music Student Loki, Art Student Sigyn, Odin's A+ Parenting, Bisexual Loki, Bisexual Sigyn, Customers being terrible, Casual misogyny Summary: Since Odin cut him off Loki (a music student) needed a job while attending Uni, this is how he becomes an exhausted Barista and how he meets Sigyn a sunny art student. Word Count: 7630 Written/Created for @lokibingo

AO3 Link

Loki had never understood Odin, Odin had been boasting to all his friends and associates that Loki had got into the best university. Loki was going to be standing amongst the elites of their country, it would open so many opportunities for him, especially amongst the government. It delighted Odin to no end.

“I’m studying music,” had been the words that made Odin give up on that one instance of pride and instead he went back to praising Thor who was heading off to get himself killed in the military, just like Odin wanted. As if that had gone so well for the PTSD riddled Hela who now worked in a wolf sanctuary up north somewhere.

Sometimes Loki thought Hela had the right idea. Give up and go to live in the wilds with a pack of wolves and a bunch of people who just understood you instead of trying to please everyone.

Still, Loki attended university, he had won this chance and was not about to give up on his dreams. But Odin made an ultimatum, while he would pay for Loki’s education no matter what (no child of his would be in debt) he was not supporting Loki any further if he continued to study music instead of politics.

Loki took the money for his courses and didn’t look back, until he blew through his savings at the age of nineteen and found himself in need of a job. How hard could it being a Batista be?

He was now twenty-one and understood just how fucking difficult it was. The job in of itself was easy, once he memorized the prices, the way to make the teas, coffees and hot sandwiches he was set. What was difficult was the dammed customers. Some he liked, some he dreaded, some he hated and some he forgot because they were either unremarkable or never ever returned.

His previous coffee shop had been two hours away from his dorms, this new one was twenty minutes on foot and ten on a bike. He preferred the manager, a stout cheerful red haired man who was understanding and didn’t make rude remarks about anyone who deviated from the norm. His previous manager had been a nightmare to work with, he was never happy.

The routine was fairly similar, the manager let the students do their work so long as it didn’t interfere with their jobs and the running of this place. For students like Loki there was not much practical work he could be doing, unlike Steve and his constant drawing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a dent in his research.

(Steve Rogers also happened to be one of his roommates which is how he found this job in the first place, the other two being Anthony Stark – slumming it with other students much to the delight of Odin who wanted Loki to be the billionaire’s best friend – and Natasha Romanov, she spoke Russian when angry or exhausted and somehow knew everyone. Loki was fairly certain she was either in a dance, theatre or art course.)

One bitterly cold autumnal day she arrived, the woman with the golden-red curly hair and tan freckled skin. He’d never seen freckles on lips before, he thought it just lipstick until he realized the exhausted woman wasn’t wearing any make up. Understandable given it was currently six in the morning on a Friday.

She was exhausted but lovely, it was as though someone had given both autumn and summer physical form and blessed her with a cute smile and odd taste in jumpers.

Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “Siggy, you’re back?”

“No I’m haunting you, whooooo,” she said waving her hands about, Loki stared, her mittens (that turned into gloves when folded back) were snake mouths. It was like having a pair of Kermit the frog heads for hands but yellow with red eyes.

“You promised to haunt Nat first,” Steve said pushing himself away from the counter half amused.

“Nobody living or dead has the balls for that,” ‘Siggy’ half shouted watching the blonde vanish into the back office. Loki heard Steve laugh, he had to agree with the pair of them, there was nobody could handle that. At least being dead was an advantage.

Steve returned slapping a pair of keys into the woman’s hand, “Now you have to buy something,” he said pointing to the menu, “Two items please.”

“It’s blackmail then?” the woman laughed, “Give me my usual.”

“No, that will kill you this early in the morning, try green tea instead, it’s good for you,”

“Such a mother hen, I know what I’m about and I want an eight shot espresso,”

“One large Coffee pitch black and a sandwich,” Steve countered.

“Deal,” the woman sighed dramatically folding back her mittens and digging out change from her jeans pocket. She got her order and left, her umbrella was also yellow, a bright yellow stood out in the grey gloom of the rainy morning.

“Who was that?” Loki asked Steve.

“Oh that, that’s Sigyn,” Steve answered sounding bored as though she was not the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. Steve was boring, Steve needed better eyes or glasses or everything, how could he not see what an attractive delightful woman Sigyn was? “We’re looking at houses together, so she’s borrowing my car.”

Loki’s mind skidded to a halt, what? They were only twenty-one, Steve didn’t come from money, he got into this very exclusive university through his exceptional talents, grants and only one loan. Which meant Sigyn-

“-Oh,” Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “You should join us,” it was half six in the morning nobody could blame Loki’s brain for conjuring images of sharing a bed with Steve and Sigyn, both were gorgeous.

Sense came back to him, Steve was dating Bucky, so why was Steve looking at houses with Sigyn?

“So we don’t have to spend the next couple of years in uni dorms, Sigyn is going for her masters and doctorate like me,” Steve answered Loki’s unasked question, he was rather good at that, Loki blinked, “It’s cheaper than the university dorms, so you’ll be saving money.”

“Who else have you asked?” Loki asked interested in the idea, anything to save money would help and the university dorms weren’t the best place to keep on living. They had rats inspecting the property.

“Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Tony, Tony asked Rhodey and I’m asking you, that should make up the numbers,” Steve said.

“Eight people?” Loki frowned.

“Bucky and I will be sharing a room, I think Rhodey’s happy to share with Tony and if they need to Sigyn will share with Natasha,” Steve said.

Loki considered it carefully, while more expensive Loki had his roommates had signed up for short term leases, by the semester in case they ever wanted to move out for any reasons. They had quickly learned by the first year that the dorms were not ideal but living on their own was impossible, this seemed an ideal solution.

“Well we have until the end of the first semester, let me know a week before I have other people interested,” Steve said and Loki nodded, thinking it over and not just because of the potential of getting to know Sigyn more.

A customer walked in, she carried a snotty toddler on her hip, a second kid walked alongside her and an exhausted teenager followed her decked out in every single awful thing Loki used to wear as an aspiring goth with delusions of what constituted good taste. It was nice to know some things never changed.

Loki played rock paper scissors with Steve, he won, until the snotty three-year-old was let loose and put his snotty hands all over the glass display unit. Steve smugly grinned at him as Loki went to retrieve the cleaning supplies, it didn’t help that the kid was now coughing and sneezing over everything.

“Ma’am please can you keep your child by your side,” Steve said, Steve was bright-eyed and bushy tailed even after years in retail, how? How was that possible, Loki’s charity towards customers had been chipped away within a month.

Of course the woman ignored him and let her kid do what they want, Loki couldn’t help it if the toddler tripped over his foot and crashed into its other sibling. He couldn’t help it if the mother carried the pair off embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as the teenager who paid for their order and carried it out for their mother.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Steve said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki grinned pleased with himself.

*****

Loki decided he hated customers when one cold evening one customer loudly decided to shout at Loki for having his long hair pulled into a ponytail and did he dare wear nail polish how dare he!

Steve of course stood up for Loki, because that was who Steve was, he wasn’t like his family who would happily laugh alongside the customer about how stupid Loki looked. Steve pointed out that this was a free country and that Loki tied his hair back for hygiene reasons, anyone with long hair had to do that regardless of gender.

Because Steve believed in things like freedom of speech, expression and so didn’t give a shit about your gender or sex. The woman shamed by Steve and his righteous speech took her coffee and slunk out of the coffee shop her tail between her legs.

“My hero,” Loki drawled causing Steve’s cheeks to pink, “So confident, I can feel the righteous surging!” Steve shook his head, “Hey want a rousing discussion about truth? Honour, patriotism, god bless-”

“I get it, you love me, lets move on,” Steve sighed completely resigned to Loki’s way of thanking him.

“Aww,” Both Steve and Loki turned to see Sigyn standing there, “Personally I’ve been on the end of Steve’s speeches, great as they are they tend to amp you up, you could lead an army with Steve’s speeches.”

“Take your heart attack juice and leave,” Steve said already filling a cup with eight espressos.

“That’s no way to speak to a customer!” Loki faked shock.

“Yes, how dare you!” Sigyn grinned, this is why Steve didn’t want Sigyn and Loki meeting, it would either be amazing or terrible, “I have rights as a customer!”

“I would demand compensation, a cheese and bacon toastie for instance,” Loki smirked at Sigyn.

“I – I wait what… excuse… what, Steeeeeeve, you did-”

“-No you, Sig are not allowed any more cheese at night,” Mother Hen Steve warned her, “Cheese gives you weird nightmares remember.”

“But it tastes so good! And that’s where the best ideas come from,” Sigyn said.

“It’s her right as a free patriot to eat cheese whenever she wants,” Loki said, yep Steve regretted them meeting. He decided it was worse than introducing Tony to Bruce and Jane Foster, the science trio were mad bastards doing crazy shit.

“Yes,” Sigyn nodded, “It is my democratic right to eat cheese and have weird nightmares. Now gimmie.”

“Even the nightmare about the tap dancing pig?” Steve asked, how he did that with a straight face baffled Loki, but he did.

“There were sooo many nipples,” Sigyn whispered haunted by some weird idea that did not seem that horrific until Loki noticed her frightened expression. “I change my mind,” She relented as Steve slid her order to her, “What time does your shift end?”

“Ten thirty why?” Steve asked checking the clock, an hour to go.

“I need your friend, the crazy bloke that talks to things?” that could only be one person.

“Tony,” Steve said

“Yeah, him, I need him to look at my laptop, it’s being a right old bastard, I think he might me on his last legs,” Sigyn sighed dramatically.

“Well you can wait here and walk back with us if you want,” Steve offered, Sigyn nodded and smiled thanking Steve as she claimed a peaceful corner all to herself.

The majority of the shift was spent dealing with people who were just starting out on their night out. Their manager closed up the shop after everything was done and kicked them out was he was sure everything was done for a second time.

The walk back to their dorms was a short walk filled with brief conversation and many yawns.

As soon as they were inside their dorm they were greeted by Tony and Natasha debating which was the best way to enjoy popcorn. Steve being the gentleman he was offered to take Sigyn’s black military coat, it hung alongside the other coats, her mittens stashed away in the pockets.

“Bacon popcorn is my go to,” Sigyn admitted pulling her bag to the side to take out her laptop.

“A woman after my heart,” Tony grinned at her.

“Good, fix my laptop genius,” Sigyn said handing it to him, “I got stuff I need protecting.”

“Like your porn stash?” Tony snickered.

“No, who keeps porn on their laptop in this day and age, get a pornhub account,” Sigyn said without any shame, Steve rolled his eyes while Tony laughed, “Fix him, he’s got my research and digital works, he’s not giving them up.”

“Greedy bastard,” Tony laughed with her.

Loki didn’t have much opportunity to spend time with Sigyn beyond handing her a bottle of water, she was too busy hovering over Tony and her laptop like a mamma duck waiting for her duckling to return. Of course the old as fuck (it didn’t take a genius to see how old her laptop was) laptop was on it’s last legs.

But Tony being Tony backed everything up on a portable SSD drive for Sigyn and told her not to worry about the cost of the thing, he recommended Laptops within her budget but said she couldn’t really expect to do much artwork beyond them, especially 3D stuff.

Sigyn thanked him and went along her way, Tony being Tony bought Sigyn a laptop. Steve said that she had beat him half to death trying to get him to send it back, Tony stuck an unreasonable amount of stickers on the laptop so no. He couldn't send it back.

Apparently Sigyn was pleased but annoyed that he had been so nice, whatever she got him in return made the young man giggle and blush. They never told anyone what it was.

*****

Sigyn returned to the coffee shop one warmer autumnal afternoon wearing a faded white band shirt with holes around the V-neck, jeans worn and weathered with time and patched with embroidery with paint stained army boots and bracelets around her wrists. Her curly hair was braided, half cornrows on her left side and half box braids on the right with beads and charms hanging from the braids.

Today Steve had the day off leaving Loki to suffer with Jane, well no that was a lie. He liked Jane, he didn’t like her dating his brother (who was four years older than her) and neither of them had the warmth and cheer that Steve had, that cheer and warmth kept them going. Instead, Jane and Loki wallowed in their misery as customers made their lives hell.

One in particular seemed to think slapping Jane’s arse was a good idea, he of course was equally horrified when he slapped Loki’s arse only to find out Loki was a dude.

“Usual?” Loki asked a little amused when she seemed surprised he would remember.

“Actually no, it’s pumpkin spice season,” Sigyn patted out a beat, “Give me a large pumpkin spice latte.”

“You can pay for it like anyone else,” Loki grinned, it took a few seconds to realize what Loki meant before she laughed a little ducking her head. Several beads clicked against one another.

It was thanks to the lack of customers at this hour (either Sigyn was a pro at avoiding customers – which if the case, she needed to teach him that skill – or she worked weird hours. Being an art student he couldn’t decide which was the right choice,) that he was able to continue talking to her.

Sigyn sipped her latte pleased with the taste, there was a reason it was so dammed popular and it wasn’t because it was famous – or infamous. She savoured the spices as studied Loki closely.

He wasn’t what she had expected when Steve first talked about him, she was expecting some posh guy who wore jumpers and talked on a diamond encrusted I-Phone. Loki was quite… normal, well terms of fashion, in terms of looks he was pleasing on the eye.

“So Steve tells me you’re a music student?” She asked thinking given his background he would be some sort of classical music star someday. She had no idea what went into music, she liked what she liked and that was that.

“I am,” was all Loki added much to her frustration, until he laughed and added, “I have always had the talent, since I first played the piano.”

“Ah, so you are a classical musician?” she asked, he looked more like he belonged in a Scandinavian heavy metal or folk band, she couldn’t get a good grasp on him.

“Not classical no,” He smirked, and she was left annoyed once again, the tease. She had to leave due to her classes starting soon, that and a new line of customers arrived, she bid Loki a fond goodbye and walked away.

Jane stared at Loki, “You like Sigyn huh?”

“What’s not to like about her?” Loki asked.

“She does have a nice arse,” Jane agreed, that wasn’t her only ‘nice’ feature but Loki didn’t say it out loud and instead set to work getting the next round of orders in.

*****

It was one of those weeks, Loki was battling with a mental block, papers were due, he had run out of shampoo and resorted to Natasha’s so now he had to deal with frizzy hair and worst of all the customers.

The company had decided in their eternal wisdom to release a complicated new creation to beat their competition, this bastard of a concoction was named the ‘Halloween Unicorn’ it was a nightmarish creation of a kid that had been fed too much sugar.

Yet apparently the customers all loved it, it was an over glorified pumpkin spice latte with extras that came with its own Halloween themed cup. But it was popular, so popular that they had sold out on day two after Instagram stars starting peddling it.

Now everyone needed a picture with one, most frustrating were the people who tossed their drinks after getting the pictures. Having to empty rubbish bins that were half filled with coffee was no pleasant task. Thankfully they had heavy-duty bags that did not leak (after years of experimentation) the downside, they were heavy.

God forbid they run out of the special cups or the unicorn horns and unicorn shaped biscuit and sprinkles that the dammed drinks came with. What was wrong with a basic pumpkin latte?

Sigyn was the next customer not that Loki noticed in his exhausted state, not until she smiled at him, customers did not usually smile at him.

“Pumpkin Latte please,” she requested and Loki almost wept with joy, no overly fancy orders, just a simple god fearing pumpkin spice latte. She dropped her usual tip in the tip jar and took her order with no fuss or additional stress.

She was seated by the window perched on her bar stool making use of the Wi-Fi as she typed away on her brand-new laptop. It was a garish yellow colour that somehow suited Sigyn completely. He took the next order, things were looking up, this woman asked for a completely normal black coffee.

Then the new wave of unicorn lattes started pouring in, rush hour meant all hands on deck. Steve and Jane were manning the coffee orders, their manager took care of the food and Loki was left to deal with the customers, he rang up the orders and passed them on. He barely noticed Sigyn leaving, he couldn’t call out to her which annoyed him.

It was five in the evening when things started to die down, the students had been dealt with and the customers were thinning.

“Back again?” Steve asked sounding amused by something.

There stood Sigyn, her curly hair pulled back and held by a piece of cloth, her left cheek smeared with a blackish paint. She wore blue painters overalls with yellow wellington boots.

“Only because I get a freebie,” she said presenting the stamp card.

“Pumpkin spice?” Steve didn’t need to ask, he was already making the drink.

“Yes, feed me,” Sigyn whispered.

“Have you spent your weekly budget already?” Steve asked.

“It’s Saturday be in awe that I lasted this long,” She said as Steve went to check with their manager that it was fine giving his friend free food.

Their manager being nice and Steve being the best worker he had meant that Sigyn got her food. “So how’s your project going?” Steve asked delivering the food to Sigyn’s stable by the window.

As Sigyn took her first bite of the bacon and egg grilled sandwich the moan she uttered did things to Loki, things that he should not be experiencing in a coffee shop, “Ah uh,” Sigyn wiped the bit of egg off her bottom lip, Loki struggled to tear his eyes away from her, “Well, I completed it.”

Steve looked up annoyed, “You… of course you did,” He sighed resigned to his fate it seemed.

He couldn’t listen in on the rest of the conversation because a customer came up to the counter, the woman had an expression that screamed she could either be a sane and nice customer or about to make their lives hell for the next ten minutes.

She chose hell.

“It’s not very professional to have your hair like that ,” she said to Loki, his hair was in a ponytail for sanitary, health and safety reasons, not for fashion purposes.

He was used to it, “May I take your order, please?” he asked she would need to do better than that to get through the thick skin retail and service work had endowed him with.

“You shouldn’t have your nails painted,” she said, he was wearing gloves again for sanitary and health reasons, they all did.

Loki simply met her stare which made her uncomfortable, “Ma’am may I take your order please, there are other customers waiting,” he pointed out to her politely.

The woman huffed and puffed, was she somehow expecting to magically summon the manager from his office? Loki waited, the customers were telling her to hurry up and that just would not do. She broke down completely, shouting at Loki.

It was oddly nostalgic. Like Yuletide with the family. Until her words struck a particularly raw nerve, the string of homophobic slurs she spewed left the few people that did not have their phones pulling out their phones to film what was happening.

That summoned the manager, who being ex-army took no shit. The woman left without her unicorn latte (thank fuck for small mercies) and a polite banning by the manager.

Loki tried not to let such things affect him, after all she was just a nameless woman, one of many that passed through this store. But that did not mean her words did not sting. Steve took over the counter allowing Loki to make the coffee’s in peace, the woman’s tirade made people overly generous with their tips, which was nice at least.

Sigyn was sat at her usual spot, when he looked up he caught her eye she offered him a smile before returning to her work. It was an hour later when they had no customers that Loki went to sit with her, to learn what she was working on.

She had pulled off the top half off her overalls, wrapping the sleeves around her waist to prevent the rest falling down as she worked on her essay. For an art student she was muscular and very freckled, there didn’t seem to be an inch free of freckles.

“I’ve got to write an essay on Edmund Dulac,” She said he had no idea who that was, so she turned her screen to him, he nodded still having no clue who he was. “Are you okay?” she asked him which for a few moments baffled him completely.

He realized she was talking about the incident with the woman, “Yes, it is something you have to get used to,” he said she looked annoyed on his behalf.

Fiddling with a leather bracelet Sigyn smiled at him, “It’s not the most ideal time but I can’t keep faffing about with this, do you uh, well not coffee how about uh drinks sometime, with me?” she asked him.

It took him a moment to get over how adorable she was when she was flustered, that blush warming her warm brown skin beautifully. “You are asking me out?”

“Y-yep,” She nodded, “I mean, if you want to?” she was fascinated to know what he looked like outside the coffee shop.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Wait really?” She asked surprised why? She was gorgeous, she was the beauty that most people on social aspired to be. “Oh, alright, um, my phone number,” she said.

He slid his phone in her direction, so she could type it in, “Why are you so surprised?” Loki asked her really wanting to know.

“Oh you know, because your hot and I thought you might already be dating someone and well It’s uh been a while since I’ve dated anyone,” She admitted handing him his phone back.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in an actual relationship with anyone, he had taken to one-night stands, mostly to experiment with his sexuality and try to pin it down. Sigyn smiled at him, and he believed her at that moment, she really was attracted to him for some reason.

Wasn’t that interesting?

*****

It was near the end of autumn by the time Sigyn and Loki could find the time to just spend a day together, what with their conflicting schedules, work and deadlines. But in the meantime they texted, messaged, phoned one another even taking a few moments to talk and get to know each other in the coffee shop.

It wasn’t as though they were strangers when they finally met up then, but they didn’t really know each other that well either. It helped calm him down as he stood waiting for her in the meeting spot.

Perhaps it had not been the greatest idea to come dressed in his usual blacks, with dashes of green and gold here and here. Some older folks were certainly disapproving of the way he dressed making him double guess his choices.

There was a part of him that wondered if Bruce was right, and he should have toned down his wardrobe for first impressions outside the coffee shop. The longer he waited (he cursed himself for needing to be early) the further he spiralled into panic and misery until finally a soft “Hey!” made him look up from his phone.

Sigyn stood there smiling wearing a knee-length mustard yellow jumper dress, thick black tights and black thigh high boots. Her knitted green and yellow scarf was ridiculously long with her usual brown backpack hung over one shoulder. Her hair had been freed from any restraints and now it was determined to be noticed the golden-red curls and coils framing her face seemed almost dazzling.

“Hello,” he greeted standing up, this was a little strange. Did they need to be in a coffee shop to feel normal? She laughed softly to herself, “What’s so funny?” for a dreadful second he imagined her laughing at him or something he chose to wear.

“Sorry, I was just thinking it’s a little weird seeing you in people cloths,” she smiled at him.

“I wear people cloths when I’m working,” He said.

“Your uniform is not people cloths, it’s the opposite, devoid of personality, this , feels like you,” she said grinning at him. She always seemed to be smiling or grinning. “How does this even work?” she asked him running her finger along the diagonal line of the zip on his leather jacket.

“Well you take the zip,” he began showing her the zip beneath his own black and green scarf and grinning when she rolled her eyes amused.

“Smart arse,” She said slapping him playfully on the arm. He did his best not to flinch, she noticed and thankfully said nothing, years of putting up with Thor and his friends had left their mark on him. She still smiled, pretending for his sake, or comfort that she had not noticed, something he appreciated. “So what now?”

“Has it that long for you?” He teased her she blushed an overly pleasant shade of pink as she walked alongside him.

“If I say yes would you be put off?” she asked him, hoping that he would not, some people were odd about people not dating, like it was a part of the curriculum for students.

“Of course not, I am more surprised you actually showed up,” he confessed though with a teasing tone as to not appear genuine. He did not wish to come across as needy or desperate.

“I wanted to see what you looked like in leather and skin tight jeans,” she waggled her eyebrows at him, like two charming caterpillars they danced, she was weirdly good at manipulating her eyebrows he thought transfixed for enough time to make Sigyn laugh.

“And?” he asked, he should have toned it down! It was ridiculous to think someone as warm, soft and pleasant as Sigyn would like this. Stark’s offer of a shirt suddenly seemed appealing.

“I approve,” She grinned at him, his whole body sagged in relief, she must have felt it because somehow that sunny smile seemed to grow a lot brighter. “So… what do people do on dates these days?”

He didn’t know, again dating had not been something he’d been overly interested in up until meeting Sigyn. Sigyn grinned at him, she knew he didn’t know either!

“People usually go for coffee,” He said lamely.

“ You want to go for coffee?” She asked him sounding amused, “That’s like asking me to spend my free time in a garage.”

“You work I a garage?” Loki asked suddenly he remembered something Tony had said about having Sigyn look at his car, he assumed he meant in the ‘I want to ask someone out’ way and not the actual practical way.

“Yep,” she said leading him through the streets with an idea, “My dad was the type that made his kids learn all the skills they would need in later life. He didn’t want me being ripped off if I ever managed to buy a car.”

Funny all his father gave him was self-esteem issues and anxiety, this was not something you said on a date, Loki knew that at least instead he said “My father just tossed money at people to solve whatever little problems he had.”

“Ah, you see that’s no good, I don’t care how rich you are everyone should know basic home maintenance,” Sigyn said, which sounded like good sound practical advice, the sort of ‘advice’ that Odin would shout at his children when telling them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

Instead, he answered, “Well my mother did teach me how to maintain a healthy garden, I know how to keep a vegetable patch and herb garden,” he said thinking it silly.

Sigyn turned to him awed like he had just said the greatest thing anyone could think of, “Really!? I’m useless with plants, well aside from Frank and Hudson.”

“Frank and Hudson?”

“Frank’s this spider-plant that just refuses to die, seriously I forgot to water him, and he just keeps on living and Hudson’s this Jade plant, I got him when he was a wee sprout as a kid, the bastard won’t die,”

“You make it sound like they are making your life an inconvenience!” he laughed.

“They grow Loki, they grow!”

“That’s what a plant is supposed to do,”

“Yes, but do you know how big twenty-year-old jade plants can be and how many babies a spider plant produces, lots!” She flapped her hand about.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Sigyn on her one woman crusade to defeat two rather average houseplants that refused to die. She puffed out her cheeks pretending to be annoyed as he laughed, in truth she was delighted to see him so relaxed. This was nice.

Sigyn had taken him to the natural history museum, some place he had yet to visit despite living in the city for two years already. It was fascinating and much better than visiting a coffee shop. Even if suddenly he was craving a cup of coffee, his work had cursed or conditioned him!

The date went well, he did think it odd that they had not kissed on the first date, was that normal? He wasn’t sure but there was plenty of hand holding and laughter. Natasha said that was a good sign when he mentioned the date to her later that evening.

“The issue you got right now,” Natasha said stretching with Loki, they both attended evening dance classes together, pole dancing to be exact. It was a great way to keep in shape, “Is whether she’s aware of your sexuality?”

He had neglected to mention that, usually wasn’t something he needed to mention, “It might have slipped my memory,” Loki admitted mirroring Natasha as they went into the next stretch.

“Hmm, well you should get on that,” he would have done had dance classes had not left him close to breaking. Natasha and Loki staggered home looking as though they had been through hell and back and nobody had allowed them to collect the t-shirts on the way out.

So it wasn’t until he saw Sigyn the next day with Steve in the coffee shop that he suddenly remembered. Mostly it was the girl very obviously checking out Sigyn that helped him remember what Natasha suggested.

He knew from watching others that it could be a make or break thing, apparently some people weren’t comfortable with their partners being bisexual go figure! He didn’t want to mess things up with Sigyn, things seemed to be going good, nice even.

“Isn’t this supposed to be Jane’s shift?” Steve asked him, not as a co-worker but a customer today. The man had bland coffee tastes, Sigyn got her usual pumpkin spice latte, she was determined to fill up before they were replaced with the peppermint drinks come winter.

“Yeah but I have extra classes this afternoon, she had extra classes this morning, so we switched places,” Loki rattled off.

“Oh okay,” Steve said grabbing his boring coffee and adding no sugar or milk, he was just that type that liked his drinks simple. Sigyn was halfway finished with her latte before Steve could even dare attempt drinking his scalding drink.

“Sigyn can I have a word?” he asked, there were no other customers waiting for a drink at the moment so now was a good time.

“Sure,” Sigyn nodded, Steve pretended to make himself scarce by reading a book at Sigyn’s usual spot by the window, clearly he was waiting for Sigyn. Right! They were classmates. He’d almost forgotten. “What’s up?” she asked looking a little worried.

“Ah uh, I should have mentioned before,” Loki said thinking it was a little weird to mention this here and now, he should have waited, damn it, but now he couldn’t just not say it could he? “I,” he hesitated, Sigyn nervously began downing her coffee like a mad woman, “I’m bi?”

“Oh… that’s all?” She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, a nervous giggle escaped her, “I uh, mean no offence or anything Loki but it was kinda obvious?”

“You can’t tell if someone is bisexual by the way they dress and act,” Loki pointed out, well Sigyn was amazing maybe she could?

“True,” She nodded radiating cheer and warmth as she pulled out her phone and showed him the screen, “But meddling billionaire’s have no filter when you ply them with whisky.”

It was a photo of Loki and Tony kissing… well no Loki’s hand was quite clearly down Tony’s pants. It had been a rather strange night of drinking and more drinking, apparently Loki decided that night he was Bi and being a scientist needing to test this theory out. Loki had of course been happy to have an attractive guy make out with him, apparently Tony had a thing for potential rock stars? It didn’t matter, Tony got his answer and Loki got a half remembered fuck, it was a good half remembered fuck.

“I am going to murder him,” Loki threatened, it was a lie of course and Sigyn laughed, clearly not offended at all and used to Tony’s antics.

“If it helps,” She said quite calmly, “It doesn’t bother me that you’re bi Loki, we have that in common.”

“Oh, ah, I see,” Loki smiled, “Well good?”

“Good,” Sigyn grinned, “Does this mean we’re still going to meet up this weekend?” she asked.

“Of course, I want to see how you react to plants,” he smirked.

“Why plants?” Sigyn asked caught off guard, but Loki refused to reveal his plot to show her around the plant exhibition. It wasn’t just about plants, there was also some arts and crafts sections and something about home-made wine. “I knew it, you’re on their side, plotting against me.”

“Ah yes, me and my legion of hydrangeas,” Loki smirked.

“That’ll be a good band name,” They both jumped, there was Natasha… in daylight hours looking as though she hadn’t slept a week. By her side Tony, who had not slept in a week, “Legion of hydrangeas.”

“Nah you want something more badass, Legion of Cacti,” Tony said waking up now he was within arms reach of coffee. Sigyn pulled her coffee cup away from him.

“Wouldn’t you be more badass with Legion of Wolfs bane?” Sigyn countered.

“Wolfs bane legion?” Steve countered.

“Just take your coffee and go, all of you," he said filling up the various cups. Natasha liked Mocha, Steve was happy with his still scalding coffee, Sigyn got her refill of Pumpkin Spice while Tony had what Steve called heart attack juice.

“You’re supposed to smile when-” Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulder and gently steered him out of the building.

“Thanks,” Natasha nodded, that was all he was going to get out of the exhausted… possible dance student. There was some speculation she might be a classics student.

Before Loki could say goodbye to Sigyn she brought him into a kiss, it was a soft quick thing, nothing but a fond goodbye but it managed to turn his legs to jelly and leave him with a dopey smile as she pulled away grinning. He was to busy mooning over Sigyn as she left, especially the way her hips swayed that he forgot to mention the traces of black lipstick.

The girl that had been checking Sigyn out glared at him, ‘ Yeah she’s mine! ’ she stuck out his tongue, she surprised him by returning the gesture.

Their second date went well until Sigyn lost a fight with a prickly pair cactus, Tony laughed and laughed, the fact that they had to buy said cactus because it now had her blood on it made Tony laugh even harder. He bought the cactus and crown and sash, crowning it the vanquisher of Sigyn.

“I told you,” Sigyn groused poking her bandaged forearm, “Wait till Fred and Hudson hear about this, it’ll make them bold!”

Loki kissed her, she smiled at him in a very silly way that made his insides squirm and wiggle in delight. Her feathery touches, her patience all made him light up, he was certain others were mocking him for becoming so sappy, but he didn’t care.

She responded to him with affection and kindness, something he had not really had in a relationship before. At least not on this sort of level. Sigyn was never ashamed about hugging him, or just gently brushing her fingers through his hair. Why did that one feel so good? He liked her braiding his hair or just running her nails along his scalp.

“Next you’ll be writing love songs and giving each other promise rings,” Tony fluttered his eyes at Loki the next morning. Ah so the mad bastard had finally got some sleep.

That… might be a little true, he had begun to write one (just one!) Song for Sigyn, he couldn’t help it, when inspiration struck he had got it down on paper. But he would not admit that Tony, not when he was operating at full brain capacity while Loki was struggling to remember what day of the week it was.

Instead, he sent Sigyn a text ‘ Stark is annoying me, send help! ’

Her response was instant ‘ Mention Justin Hammer ’ why? Who was that? She sent him a list of conversation starters that included that name.

“Did you notice the university newspaper this morning Natasha?” Loki said.

“We have a newspaper?” Tony asked.

“Apparently someone called Justin Hammer-” Tony hissed like a feral cat and zoomed off shouting something about cheap copy cats.

“Tell Sigyn that was mean,” Natasha said holding up her mug to be filled with heart attack juice.

Loki later learnt that Tony had been the originator but Sigyn had perfected this particular blend of coffee so strong it could fuel rockets. Loki stuck with natural coffee, coffee that did not make people stay awake for days on end.

Loki on pure instinct refilled her mug, then looked horrified when he realized what he had done! The corporations had conditioned him! Natasha smirked, “Serves you right,” she said sliding off the plastic barstool Bucky had fished out from a dumpster.

*****

Usually it wasn’t a good idea to move into somewhere with a girlfriend of a couple of months, but the rent was cheap and the house was decent enough. Much better than the university dorms anyway. They had plenty of space in spite of the fact eight people lived here, there was even a small garden.

It wasn’t a good idea to share a bedroom either, but nobody could blame Loki and if their relationship ended suddenly for some weird reason Sigyn could share or swap with someone else. But Loki didn’t like thinking about that.

He liked his relationship with Sigyn, she made him feel loved, special, like he could do anything he wanted and that was okay. She supported him, coming to the café’s and clubs he played at never anything short of happy grins and warm affection.

Whenever he felt those pangs of ‘I’ve fucked up and should have listened to Odin’ moments she was there holding his hand reminding him it was okay to follow his dreams. He could not understand why someone as loving and kind as Sigyn would want him, but he could not imagine his life without her now.

In turn, he supported her art shows, Sigyn it turned out was a talented painter, both with traditional and digital mediums. She was already building a regular client base and looking to publish some books, which featured her work, there was also talks of a graphic novel that she and Steve were working on together. Something about an Atalantian prince.

She liked to draw him, he didn’t mind, he was in fact flattered she found him that interesting. He was always happy to spend time with her regardless of what they were doing, especially when the Uni classes became more serious. It was nice to just share a comfortable space with someone, someone who warmed him and reminded him to carry on. That everything was okay.

Finally, Loki got to meet Fred and Hudson, Hudson was huge, Sigyn had grossly undersold just how big he was. He became the Christmas tree that year he was so big. But Fred, the spider plant who hung from the ceiling was almost as long as Loki was tall, clearly Sigyn had given up dealing with the babies and just let him grow thinking it would kill off the plant.

“Maybe you have a secret superpower-” Loki began to suggest as he placed them in the most ideal locations.

“-Plants are spiteful,” Sigyn hissed threatening the plant who did not respond.

“Maybe that’s what feeding, all that hate?” Loki suggested.

“Oooh that’s sneaky, so typical of-” Sigyn paused looking at Loki who was struggling not to laugh, he blinked not understanding why she had suddenly become so serious, “You have pretty eyes.”

He blushed always caught off guard by her compliments he couldn’t help it, she smiled taking hold of his hand and kissing him. His entire being fluttered as she slowly deepened the kiss forgetting for a moment that they were in the process of decorating the house when Bucky walked in complaining about the new coffee machine.

“Loki!” Bucky yelled, “You're the coffee expert-” Loki groaned pulling away from Sigyn who giggled, her whole body rocked against him.

“-I should have worked in the bakery,” He pinched his nose, though he could not regret his choice of work now, it had led him to meeting Sigyn.

“You know… I need help with our bed,” Sigyn offered him an escape, and he took it with a grin, our bed did sound rather lovely.

#Loki Bingo 2020 #Loki/Sigyn #Logyn #Coffee Shop AU #loki x sigyn #Loki fic #Loki Fanfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #jane foster #Tony Stark #Student!Loki #Student!Sigyn #Modern AU

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maximoffvizh · 5 years

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fic: the sun is too bright for me (but your smile is brighter)

he’s imagined how he’ll tell people this story. ‘i grabbed her scarf when it blew out of her hands in the wind’ said in a dreamy voice. absolutely no mention of the vampire reflexes that allowed him to do that | scarletvision au: vision is a vampire trying very hard to pretend to be human for the sake of his new girlfriend. don’t ask him why he doesn’t want her to know

He tugs anxiously at the tight collar of his turtleneck, wondering whether he should drop down to an even lighter shade of blue. Maybe this rich colour is too much of a contrast to his pallor, maybe it shows that his eyes shine a brighter colour than they should, maybe it means that this magical woman will take one look at him and realise that he wears high necklines to hide the two distinct round scars on his neck.

Vision forces himself to step away from his wardrobe, smoothing his sweater down with anxious fingers. She won’t know. She has no reason to suspect that he’s a vampire, that there are bright white marks on his neck showing where the venom flowed into his blood and changed him that late fateful night. He isn’t like those who lean heavily into this part of their identity, dressed all in black with silk-lined capes around their shoulders, haunting the vampire bars and living in apartments filled with expensive furniture and black marble.

He lives as a normal twenty-seven year old, in a cosy apartment decorated in pops of warm yellow, attending night classes for his third degree and holding down a job as a copy-editor. He speaks French, Italian and Sokovian, he knits and crochets and paints, he plays violin and piano and all of those are accomplishments he’s sure anyone who puts their mind to it would have achieved at twenty-seven. It just happens that he was bitten and made into a vampire in the seventies, and has been aging at a snail’s pace ever since. It allows for plenty of time to master the skills of a child prodigy.

He wishes he could check his reflection as he leaves the apartment, but at least it just so happened that her shift today meant she wouldn’t be free until after dusk. No prickle of sunlight will touch his skin, and he intends to treat her at the wine bar and be able to take a walk with her in the moonlight. They can talk about their lives, and he’ll let her do most of the talking - hearing about her life will be far more interesting than telling the lies of his for the hundredth time.

Wanda is waiting outside the bar for him, and he pauses for a moment to admire her, the dark red dress that hugs her figure and her hair tumbling in gentle waves around her shoulders. A black coat skims around her, and she’s examining her nails as he crosses the street and says a soft, “Hi.”

She starts, almost dropping her purse, then smiles, colour flooding her cheeks. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, immediately horrified. Not even thirty seconds into the first date he’s had in almost fifteen years, and he’s messed it up.

“No, no, it’s okay,” she says, seemingly collecting herself. “It’s impressive, being that silent. How’d you learn that?”

“Master of hide and seek in school,” he lies quickly, and she giggles. It’s better than telling her he’s so silent because he’s a predator and she, with her blushing cheeks and beating heart, is technically prey. ‘I am, biologically speaking, supposed to eat you’ is not a sentence to say on a first date. Or ever.

Luckily, she talks enough for both of them through their date. Telling him about her cat and her friends and her job and her childhood, talking about the country he saw before war devastated it, stood on its hills and watch dawn stripe the sky pale lavender. He’s content to listen, to hear her accent emerge more the longer she talks, to take in all of her. He can see the myriad shades of green in her eyes, the dark spread of her eyelashes, the faint freckles scattered across her nose breaking through the thin layer of make-up. Every twitch of her fingers draws his eyes, and he can smell the musk of her perfume, and beneath that the sweetness of her skin, his eyes tracing over the web of veins crisscrossing her wrist.

He takes a deep breath to clear his head, and instead takes a long sip of wine. Wanda giggles and says, “Slow down, handsome, I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you home.” She reaches across the table and brushes a stain away from the corner of his mouth, her finger so warm against his skin, and he stares at her for a long moment before he ducks his head.

Their walk through the park takes them to a stream, a picturesque curved bridge, and he grins helplessly when she tangles their gloved hands together, tossing her hair back over one shoulder and smiling at him. She pauses at the arch of the bridge, and he looks down at the colours caught in the water, at the trembling reflection of the moon.

Then her lips are on his, scalding hot, and he leans into this first romantic contact in so long, the first real human contact in years. Her hand touches his cheek and doesn’t jerk back at the cool of his skin, but cradles him closer. His arms wrap around her and he’s sure that he wouldn’t even notice if the bridge collapsed beneath them.

He does, however, notice when it starts to rain. But Wanda just beams at him and pulls her umbrella from her bag, raising it above them and continuing to kiss him. It feels like a scene from one of the movies he loved so much in the eighties, still watches despite Sam insisting that he has to get a more modern taste in his media, and he smiles against her mouth.

Being in a relationship - that’s what this is, a relationship, a beautiful woman who cheerfully and casually calls him her boyfriend and brings him coffee and buys him novelty socks just because - is somewhat difficult when he’s keeping such a huge secret from her. But he can’t bring himself to tell her. She thinks he’s just a normal guy, admires his cosy apartment and beams when he answers her questions in her language, gushes over the painting and scarf he gifts her for her birthday and lingers in his arms even when he makes excuses about poor circulation and not being able to warm her up.

She’s also shrewd, and clever, and it’s difficult to fool her. He can put her off kissing him after she’s eaten Italian by lying that he’s allergic to garlic, but he ruins that by kissing her when she leaves and having to quickly backtrack and claim the allergy isn’t so severe that it will affect him if he doesn’t ingest garlic. She wears a silver necklace one night that makes his nose itch and his eyes water, and the first excuse that comes to mind is that he just got very emotional over the sight of an old man pushing his equally old dog in a red wagon. He tries to put her off taking photos again and again, until she thinks he’s ashamed of her and that turns into a three-day silence before he turns up at her door with an armful of flowers and a mouthful of apologies, and she kisses him and promises she won’t do anything he isn’t ready for.

She falls out his lap, rumpled and panting and wanting, after they’ve been carefully and slowly making out for minutes at a time, her skirt tugged up high on her thighs and her shirt riding up, and he feebly lies that he has a migraine and leaves her apartment. He’s thrumming with desire, shaking with it, and his fangs are dropped and he runs his tongue over their points with a shudder of horrors. If she’d felt them...if they’d gone further...if he’d hurt her...he has to break up with her.

“Or you could just tell her the truth,” Sam says. He’s lounging on his couch, playing MarioKart, and Vision is fretting on the gaudy rug he’s always hated that Sam bought. For someone who was born in the eighties and turned in the early noughties, Sam really has a thing for the garish seventies aesthetic. “Vampires are common knowledge, she’s not gonna run away screaming.”

“You don’t know that,” Vision says, miserably picking at the seal of a blood pouch. He can still see Wanda’s eyes dark with desire, feel the press of her hips into his, and he can imagine how he looks after dinner. Fangs dropped and stained crimson at the tips. She’d be horrified to see him like this. “I really like her, and-”

“And the last time you really liked somebody you ended up hiding from the crazy father that thought you were a demon and tried to shoot you, I know,” Sam says, and Vision shivers at the memory. Virginia’s father screaming about the devil and his monsters, the bullet that passed harmlessly through him, diving into a river and letting the current carry him away, emerging hours later with nothing to show for it but the filth that caked him, the silvery scar in his chest and the knowledge that getting too close to humans is dangerous. “But times have changed, my friend. We’re an acknowledged species. And this girl doesn’t have a father to chase you with a shotgun, anyway.”

Vision throws the blood pouch at his head. Sam catches it, tears the corner off with a quick flick of his head, and drains it without losing first place in his game. And Vision mopes to bed, lying awake as the sun rises.

He doesn’t see Wanda for a week, avoids her calls and answering her texts. He paints sad dark paintings, works harder, and spends his nights reading long rambling stories about love and crying while Sam makes fun of him. He stares down the barrel of eternity and no more time with her, and he pretends that he isn’t upset. Pretends that he knew that an ending was inevitable, because a relationship between a vampire and a human can’t work out.

He pretends that even when Ian proposes to Sam, and he realises that maybe it can.

To: Wanda

Hey. I’m really sorry. Can we talk?

The knock on his door comes three hours after the fateful text, and Wanda is in his apartment. She’s wearing an enormous grey hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and carrying a coffee cup. And she stares at him witheringly, arching an eyebrow, and says, “So you ghosted me for a week, and you wanna talk?”

“I’m so sorry,” he says weakly. “I...I didn’t know what else to do.”

“If you didn’t wanna have sex with me, all you had to do was say so,” she says, and the defiance is fading into hurt, and guilt is pouring hot and gnawing into his chest and he wishes he was human. That he could take her in his arms and show her all the things he wants to do without being paralysingly afraid of hurting her. “If you want to break up-”

“No!” he insists, and she looks up, her eyes narrowed. “No, the last thing I want to do is end this. I...Wanda, you make me feel human-”

“But you are...” She trails off, and her eyes drop to his neck, deliberately bared. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.” He slumps back on the couch, and she’s still standing, moving closer. “I...the last relationship I had ended in her father chasing me off the property with a gun, before people really understood vampires, and I couldn’t...I can’t bear to think about losing you because of this.” He pushes a hand through his hair, and says, “But if you want to leave...if this is all too much for you...I won’t begrudge you your decision. It would be for your safety-”

“Vizh.” Her voice is soft, sweet, and she cups his face between her hands before she cradles his head to her stomach, and he closes his eyes and breathes her in. “You make me feel safe. It doesn’t matter to me what you are, you’re clearly in control of yourself. And now it makes sense why we only meet at night, and why you don’t wanna take photos, and why you don’t like when I eat Italian, and why you flinched every time I touched you when I was wearing silver jewellery...” She trails off, and he lifts his head to see her frowning adorably. “But why wouldn’t you have sex with me?”

“Oh...um...” If he could blush, he certainly would with her curious expression and her bright eyes. “See...it’s hard for us...vampires, I mean...to control ourselves with human...lovers. And I’m scared that I...I might get carried away and hurt you. Because I...we’d be so close. I’d hear your heart so loudly, and we’d be...naked. And things. I don’t...I don’t want you to get hurt. Not by me.”

“Oh sweetie.” She lifts his chin and plants a simple, sweet kiss on his lips. “You could never hurt me.” Then she smirks, slides into his lap, and breathes, “And make no mistake - I’ll always be the one in control.”

She kisses him, long and hard and dirty, and his breath rasps into her mouth. Her kisses trace a path from the corner of his mouth to his ear, and she whispers, “By the way, you’re a terrible liar. I’ve known from the start.” A tug of her teeth on his earlobe, and she breathes, “Fucking a vampire is on my bucket list. But only if I top.”

If a dead heart could come pounding back to life, that would be the sentence that does it.

#beth writes fic #scarlet vision #scarletvision au #visionmcu #scarletwxnda

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sunstarjournal · 4 years

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The Truth Behind Secret Societies

What You Need to Know

We’ve all seen the movies where the young and privileged get an invitation to follow in their families’ footsteps to join a secret society. As they forge ahead, they are showered with lavish gifts and never-ending opportunities for fame and fortune. Without a doubt, these Hollywood productions have created a certain mystery and allure surrounding the idea of what a secret society is—from collegiate institutions to treasure hunting—that have most of us pondering the opportunity and what the lifestyle of these privileged few must be like. The fact of the matter is, very few people will ever receive an invitation to any one of these organizations and if you were one of the few invited, are you clear as to the organization’s objectives?

Before we can dive into the gritty details of what to look for in a valid society, we must first ask ourselves what are the differences between secret societies and private organizations? A private organization can vary from local clubs to exclusive institutions looking to make an impact or to turn a profit. Private organizations can also vary in their size and scope of members, aims, goals, and initiatives both as an overall organization and within the organization itself. Likewise, secret societies have set agendas and values across the organization, though not all agendas are for the betterment of mankind. Some societies operate on the fringes of population control, political upheaval, and plans to disrupt the lives of others, lending a negative bias toward secret societies in general. Though negative secret societies exist, there are countless others whose sole purpose is making a positive impact on the world.

It’s important to note that most legitimate, altruistic secret societies are rarely as secret as they once were and operate simply as a private organization. Although these groups hold their inner workings, teachings, and processes as private within the organization, they often have ways for potential candidates to evaluate their mission and objectives. The existence of these organizations have become well known to the public and may even have a website or Wikipedia page.

These private organizations have recently allowed outsiders to see what they stand for and draw their own conclusions. The existence of these values is of paramount importance to the potential inductee.

Beyond the existence of resources expounding the beneficent aims of the organization, there are other ways to determine the validity of these private groups. Below, you will find twelve ways to evaluate these organizations and will help you identify which ones are legitimate and for the betterment of mankind.

1. Mission and Objectives Are Available to the Public

All valid secret societies or private groups operate under the umbrella of their primary mission or objective. What is the members’ ultimate goal in joining this institution? The existence of a publicly available objective lends credence to their actions behind the scenes, even though they may not provide their proprietary processes for accomplishing this goal. It only stands to benefit the organization if like-minded individuals can use this information to confirm their own interest in the cause. If the organization provides no information on their primary objectives before joining, then they are likely operating in the shadows for a reason. Publicly stating their goals is the first step in determining whether an organization is truly out to make a difference or only a hoax to lure in unsuspecting members.

2. Motivation Is Clear

Once the organization has passed the test of their public mission, their motivation must come from a place of altruism. Why does this organization feel compelled to take action on their mission? This motivation can be divvied up into two categories: accomplishing objectives for the growth of the organization or making a positive impact on the world at large. While both are necessary for the sustained performance of any organization, which category is the primary driver of their actions? Are they more concerned with the pomp and circumstance of their institution or with giving back to the world at large? Any organization worth its salt will err on the side of making a positive impact on the world.

3. Existing Membership Profiles

Now that we understand the mission and motivation behind the organization, we can drill down to the composition of the membership. You can glean a great deal about the organization’s aims and values by who they allow into their ranks. Political and religious leaders, scientists and doctors—the overall makeup of the organization can tell you where their values lie as an organization and whether or not you are aligned with their true aims. If they do not provide a list, you may still be able to find individuals in the news or on their personal websites that mention the organization and their aims.

4. Symbol of Truth

While it may be difficult to find a list of active members for some societies, most organizations have a symbol or token that allows them to recognize other members. From the rings and pins worn by the Masons to coins, cards, or other symbolic items, true societies will always provide a way to recognize one another with discretion. They may even be worn openly to invite contacts from the organization to recognize their mutual membership. These symbols are not only calling cards for other members, they can stand as a physical reminder of the organization’s values and code of conduct.

5. Written Laws or Principles

In addition to established objectives, missions, and symbols, most verifiable organizations will hand down a set of laws, guidelines, or principles that direct the organization to the success of their mission and goals. These teachings have been established to hand down relevant information to each successive generation, keeping the knowledge and the organization alive.

This allows prospective members to determine if their own values and principles align with that of the group before considering any offer of inclusion. If the organization cannot provide you with useful tools in this manner, it is likely they are more interested in monetization or data and contact mining than making a positive impact on the world. All societies should be able to give as much to their members as they ask of them.

6. Rule Book

Outside of generational principles that should be taught and upheld by all members, true societies will have a book of rules or a credo by which all members must live. This ensures conformity between members and provides direction in interactions both inside and outside of the institution. In essence, these rules outline the standards by which the entire organization operates. These rules also ensure that all members are held accountable for their actions, propagating the high-value reputation they seek to uphold.

7. Class System for Mentorship

Given that most societies have sustained power and influence for years, their membership should include a vast array of success, experience, and wisdom across multiple generations. To establish order, hold true to the organization’s values, and provide a chain of command for mentors, it stands to reason most organizations will operate on a distinctly outlined hierarchy. All members have rights and responsibilities within the system based on their level within the institution. This allows true societies to operate in a way that meets the needs of various members while preventing the chaos of a free-for-all forum or committee.

8. Scope of Membership

Once you believe in the overall validity of the organization, the membership process should also provide you with insight into their true intentions. With few exceptions, secret societies establish and maintain a clear rubric of who is permitted to join their ranks. This ensures that the quality and safety of all members are respected while upholding the values that members live by. Most legitimate organizations promote only from within, relying on current members to recognize the values of the organization in others and offer up a nomination or invitation for consideration. This does not ensure your acceptance. However, if an organization will allow anyone to join, it is likely they are taking advantage of those to whom they offer a membership.

9. Small Window of Opportunity

If you are one of the lucky few that receive an invitation, it is likely that there will be a window of opportunity in which you must give your reply. Societies are looking for members that operate based on their dedication to the cause rather than on the fear of the unknown. The ability to make a decision and take action is essential to the organization’s overall success. You can be assured that a organization that is dedicated to their cause rather than the potentially lucrative benefits of having a large membership will have a specific timeline for acceptance before the offer for inclusion is withdrawn.

10. Chance to Ask Questions

Even after researching the organization, its members, and its publicly available resources, it is natural that you may still have questions. While the organization may be unable to reveal their inner workings prior to your acceptance of an invitation, that should not prevent them from answering more general inquiries. Oftentimes, legitimate societies will provide an avenue—a call, a meeting, a contact—to have questions answered about any of the topics we’ve already discussed. If you find that the organization refuses to provide enough general information or offer up enough data to verify their intentions, you will do good to be wary.

11. Vetting Process

Once you’ve decided to accept the nomination, all authentic secret societies should have some degree of vetting process for initiates, much like any college or professional institution. Whatever the process is, you can rest assured that it will be tied into the core values of the organization and its membership. This allows the organization to rate your value as an asset to the organization and their cause before fully accepting the nomination. While you seek to ensure the validity of the organization, they too must believe they have offered membership to the right individual.

12. Annual Dues

Finally, the question that drives many people to doubt the validity of an organization—do they have annual dues or fees? While many people may be leery of organizations that ask for money up front, annual dues are vital to the running of a legitimate organization. True societies operate like a business, from hiring staff to facilitate projects to funding initiatives under their overall objective. This does not mean that you should blindly pay dues before being accepted as a full member with rights and benefits. Conversely, you should be leery to accept a membership that does not include fees as these organizations will not have the resources to facilitate the needs of its members. This type of organization is often built to solely generate income through selling products to their members and their external contacts.

The most important takeaway from this is that secret societies are not nearly as secret as you once thought. They understand that movies and books have had a major impact on how people approach their institutions, be it from fear, adoration, or curiosity. True secret or private organizations are willing to share their overall goals, core values, and guidelines as a way to attract potential candidates that may fit in their ranks. When these factors are not available to the public or before accepting an offer of membership, it benefits the prospective member to take a step back and ask themselves why this organization won’t provide general information. The truth of the matter is that there are dozens of altruistic societies around the world and you would be lucky to find yourself offered a place among their ranks. For further reference, here are the top ten most popular private organizations active in the world today in no particular order.

1. Freemasonry

The Freemasons or Masons trace their ancestry from the end of the 14th century and provide an abundance of information on their mission and objectives. Additionally, information can be found regarding their initiation, lodges, and basic rules before joining. To express your interest, you may email your local chapter.

2. Knights of Columbus

The Knights of Columbus was founded sometime in the 1800s and their mission and goals remain unchanged even as the ways they make an impact have improved as the world develops. Their mission, history, and programs are all accessible for public knowledge. They are religiously affiliated and have a defined membership; however, anyone within their membership guidelines may email them for possible inclusion.

3. The Bellwether Alliance

The Bellwether Alliance is a long-standing organization, yet its foundation date is unknown. It operates based on their core values and has no political or religious affiliation. Their site clearly outlines their mission, objectives, credo, and hierarchy for all possible candidates. Information regarding their teachings and how to achieve generational wealth for the purpose of making a positive impact on the world may also be found online. Although it has recently become more publicly searchable, nominations may only be offered from within.

4. Skull and Bones

Founded in 1882, Skull and Bones resides at Yale University, earning a reputation for operating in the shadows through their mysterious nature. Nominations can only come from current membership and must be students from the current year’s undergraduate senior class. While much information is not available, a list of famous Bonesmen can be found online.

5. Illuminati

The Illuminati have been a politically and religiously affiliated society since the 17th century. Their symbols, beliefs, agenda, and history are all available through their verified website and social media platforms. Anyone may request to join the Illuminati though they specifically seek people of great influence worldwide.

6. Quill and Dagger

Another university-based society, Quill and Dagger was established at Cornell University in 1893. One of the most public societies to post their list of members, Quill and Dagger is also well-known for being one of the first societies to accept women within their ranks. Their objectives and activities are unclear, with the exception of certain projects at the university itself. Nominations of undergraduate senior class members may come only from within.

7. The Flat Hat Club

The Flat Hat Club at the College William and Mary is the first recorded collegiate secret society in the United States. Their mission focuses on education and members are nominated from the undergraduate class by current members. Though they suspended activities during World War II, they have since revived the society and its practices.

8. Seven Society

The Seven Society at the University of Virginia was founded in 1905, yet its history remains mysterious. Their objectives and mission are not readily available to the public, but their donations to university programs and a list of past members can be found. Membership is unusual in that prospective members need not be a current or former student of the University of Virginia.

9. Bilderberg Meeting

The first Bilderberg Meeting was held in 1954 with the aim of facilitating dialogue between North America and Europe. Basic information regarding their members, goals, and history may be found online, but details are sparse. Nominations may only come from within the current membership.

10. The Stewards

Little public information is available on the Georgetown University-based society, The Stewards. They are known to be both religiously and politically affiliated and were disbanded in the 1990s for a time. A second Society of Stewards is active today.

Contributor: Cory Linder

#know #truth #secret #society #secretsociety #bilderberg #bellwether #illuminati #stewards #sevensociety #flathatclub #quillanddagger #freemasonry #skullandbones #knightsofcolumbus

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schraubd · 5 years

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Israel's Future in an Illiberal World

This essay by Robert Kagan on the current illiberal trajectory of the Israeli state is absolutely outstanding. I can't recommend it highly enough. Most columns which talk about Israel in conjunction with the rise of global illiberal nationalism basically are exercises in what Marx would've called "bourgeois moralism" -- calling for Israel to resist it (or to stop actively participating in it) because it's wrong. Now, unlike Marx I think there is a perfectly valid place for moralistic appeals. But it certainly opens itself up to a response from a certain sort of fellow, who deems him or herself a hard-headed realist, who knows that such high-minded ethical appeals have no actual purchase in the dog-eat-dog, every-nation-for-itself world of realpolitik. Israel has to do what's best for Israel -- same as every other country. If that means shedding democracy, or liberalism, or egalitarianism, well, boo-hoo for them. Kagan's contribution is useful because it is expressly addressed to that sort of fellow, and I endorse it not because I agree with this outlook but because I recognize it is an important one that many people -- rightly or not -- hold. Kagan's essay explores what Israel's status would be -- not what it ought to be, not what it should be if states were fair and just and nice, but what it would be -- in an illiberal world where America and other major powers were motivated primarily by a sort of insular, anti-cosmopolitan nationalism. In this world, bonds between nations would, where they form at all, be based on material concerns and the conveniences of power -- the world Charles de Gaulle imagined when he said "nations don't have friends, only interests." And the answer is that while in the immediate term Israel might find friends in the budding illiberal powers currently popping up -- from Trump to Orban to Modi to Putin -- in the long-term such a world would almost certainly result in an Israel isolated, alone, and -- at best -- abandoned to its own fate. Historically, Israel viewed its own security and standing as a new and relatively fragile state as being intricately connected to its status as a democratic state and society that would be a member in good-standing of the liberal political order. In a world where Israel's neighbors had more people, more territory, more wealth, and more oil, the main factor that could bind any major power to the Jewish state is a perception of shared values. But the decline of the post-Cold War liberal order (liberal America and the EU) and the rise of illiberal alternatives (e.g., China and Russia, but also Trumpism in America and right-wing populism in Europe and globally) has given Israel a choice in didn't have before. Today, Israel doesn't have to be liberal in order to gain the support from other global powers. China doesn't care if Israel is democratic. Russia hardly minds if Israel is repressive. And within the traditional seats of international liberalism, one sees rot from the inside -- from Trump's rise to the chaos over Brexit. A right-wing populist like Netanyahu doesn't lack for ideological allies in the international system. Yet, Kagan warns, Israel is delusional if it thinks that an "America first!" America, no longer concerned with trifling things like "democracy" or "shared liberal values", will be a reliable ally ever outward into the future. Why would it? Insular nationalism by its very nature doesn't lend itself to establishing these sort of enduring, values-based bonds. It is facile to assume that America will simultaneously retreat from seeking to promote a vision of liberal internationalism yet will remain committed to the security and flourishing of small nations halfway across the globe whose very presence seems to alienate much larger and objectively more important countries. If shared values matter, Israel can argue the fact that it's a pariah among some many states is a case of hypocrisy, illiberalism, or outright hate, and that it'd be just plain wrong for America to give into it. But that refrain -- whether fair or not as an ethical matter -- is simply irrelevant if America's foreign policy is "America first!" Only in a world where international ethics matter can Israel appeal to ethics as basis of a stable diplomatic relationship. Kagan draws a parallel to right-wing Polish nationalists, who somehow think that a US that chooses to abandon NATO will nonetheless maintain a special security commitment to Poland. Those figures are out of their minds: if America ceases to care about the NATO alliance, it will in turn cease to care about Poland -- if not immediately, then shortly thereafter. More broadly: if America is in the game only for itself, playing real power politics, eventually Israel will find itself cut loose as soon as its in the transient American interest to abandon it.

What makes Israelis think if the United States were to cease supporting the liberal world order and began shedding the alliances it created after World War II, that the only ally it would not shed would be Israel? (Amusingly, many Poles these days also seem to believe that if the United States pulled out of NATO, it would still maintain the security relationship with Poland.) And how would Israel fare in the kind of world that would emerge if the United States stopped trying to uphold the liberal order? Such a world would once again be a multipolar struggle for power and advantage, pitting Russia, China, India, Japan, Iran, the stronger European powers and the United States against one another — all with large populations, significant territories and vast economies. What would be the fate of tiny nations such as Israel in such a world, no matter how well they might be armed and no matter how advanced their economies? In today’s world, Israel is strong and successful. It outshines its weaker and less-developed neighbors. But in the world of self-interested sovereign nation-states, a world with no liberal community, Israel is a mouse surrounded by elephants, all clamoring for a piece of the Middle East. Historically, from the Romans to the Ottomans to the British and French, the peoples of the Middle East have enjoyed only such autonomy as the ruling empires granted them. Otherwise, they were pawns and victims in a much larger game in which they were hopelessly outmatched.

Could Israel, with its few millions of citizens, surrounded by enemies on all sides, and no longer living under the umbrella of the United States’ global hegemony, rely on the support of European nations ruled by right-wing nationalists?

The answer is simply: no. It cannot rely on the enduring backing of foreign nation's committed to their own brand of domestic ultranationalism (it is frankly bizarre that anyone with a modicum of knowledge about Jewish history could believe otherwise), and a world where Israel has thrown its lot with that crowd is a world that will rapidly become exceptionally dangerous for Israel. Kagan concludes:

The price Israel paid for being born into the liberal world order was that it would have to suffer liberal criticisms and be held to liberal standards. This may have been difficult and even, from Israelis’ perspective, unfair, but Israeli leaders have borne this burden for 70 years because they knew Israel had no choice, that there was no home for Israel except within the liberal world order. That many Israelis now believe they have a choice is a reflection of our times, but it is a dangerous illusion. Those Netanyahu campaign posters showing him shaking hands with Putin, Modi and Trump carry the tagline, “A Different League.” Indeed, it is. Good luck.

Good luck indeed. The world Netanyahu hopes to help build is a world where Israel one day -- and perhaps not a particularly distant day -- will find itself truly alone, truly cut-off, and if the worst comes without America or anyone else interested in bailing it out. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/2LX0PHZ

#far-right #Israel #nationalism #Neo-Realism #neoconservatism

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crimethinc · 5 years

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Hong Kong: Anarchists in the Resistance to the Extradition Bill An Interview

Since 1997, when it ceased to be the last major colonial holding of Great Britain, Hong Kong has been a part of the People’s Republic of China, while maintaining a distinct political and legal system. In February, an unpopular bill was introduced that would make it possible to extradite fugitives in Hong Kong to countries that the Hong Kong government has no existing extradition agreements with—including mainland China. On June 9, over a million people took the streets in protest; on June12, protesters engaged in pitched confrontations with police; on June 16, two million people participated in one of the biggest marches in the city’s history. The following interview with an anarchist collective in Hong Kong explores the context of this wave of unrest. Our correspondents draw on over a decade of experience in the previous social movements in an effort to come to terms with the motivations that drive the participants, and elaborate upon the new forms of organization and subjectivation that define this new sequence of struggle.

In the United States, the most recent popular struggles have cohered around resisting Donald Trump and the extreme right. In France, the Gilets Jaunes movement drew anarchists, leftists, and far-right nationalists into the streets against Macron’s centrist government and each other. In Hong Kong, we see a social movement against a state governed by the authoritarian left. What challenges do opponents of capitalism and the state face in this context? How can we outflank nationalists, neoliberals, and pacifists who seek to control and exploit our movements?

As China extends its reach, competing with the United States and European Union for global hegemony, it is important to experiment with models of resistance against the political model it represents, while taking care to prevent neoliberals and reactionaries from capitalizing on popular opposition to the authoritarian left. Anarchists in Hong Kong are uniquely positioned to comment on this.

The front façade of the Hong Kong Police headquarters in Wan Chai, covered in egg yolks on the evening of June 21. Hundreds of protesters sealed the entrance, demanding the unconditional release of every person that has been arrested in relation to the struggle thus far. The banner below reads “Never Surrender.” Photo by KWBB from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

“The left” is institutionalized and ineffectual in Hong Kong. Generally, the “scholarist” liberals and “citizenist” right-wingers have a chokehold over the narrative whenever protests break out, especially when mainland China is involved.

In the struggle against the extradition bill, has the escalation in tactics made it difficult for those factions to represent or manage “the movement”? Has the revolt exceeded or undermined their capacity to shape the discourse? Do the events of the past month herald similar developments in the future, or has this been a common subterranean theme in popular unrest in Hong Kong already?

We think it’s important for everyone to understand that—thus far—what has happened cannot be properly understood to be “a movement.” It’s far too inchoate for that. What I mean is that, unlike the so-called “Umbrella Movement,” which escaped the control of its founding architects (the intellectuals who announced “Occupy Central With Love And Peace” a year in advance) very early on while adhering for the most part to the pacifistic, citizenist principles that they outlined, there is no real guiding narrative uniting the events that have transpired so far, no foundational credo that authorizes—or sanctifies—certain forms of action while proscribing others in order to cultivate a spectacular, exemplary façade that can be photographed and broadcast to screens around the world.

The short answer to your question, then, is… yes, thus far, nobody is authorized to speak on behalf of the movement. Everybody is scrambling to come to terms with a nascent form of subjectivity that is taking shape before us, now that the formal figureheads of the tendencies you referenced have been crushed and largely marginalized. That includes the “scholarist” fraction of the students, now known as “Demosisto,” and the right-wing “nativists,” both of which were disqualified from participating in the legislative council after being voted in.

Throughout this interview, we will attempt to describe our own intuitions about what this embryonic form of subjectivity looks like and the conditions from which it originates. But these are only tentative. Whatever is going on, we can say that it emerges from within a field from which the visible, recognized protagonists of previous sequences, including political parties, student bodies, and right-wing and populist groups, have all been vanquished or discredited. It is a field populated with shadows, haunted by shades, echoes, and murmurs. As of now, center stage remains empty.

This means that the more prevalent “default” modes of understanding are invoked to fill the gaps. Often, it appears that we are set for an unfortunate reprisal of the sequence that played itself out in the Umbrella Movement:

appalling show of police force

public outrage manifests itself in huge marches and subsequent occupations, organized and understood as sanctimonious displays of civil virtue

these occupations ossify into tense, puritanical, and paranoid encampments obsessed with policing behavior to keep it in line with the prescribed script

the movement collapses, leading to five years of disenchantment among young people who do not have the means to understand their failure to achieve universal suffrage as anything less than abject defeat.

Of course, this is just a cursory description of the Umbrella Movement of five years ago—and even then, there was a considerable amount of “excess”: novel and emancipatory practices and encounters that the official narrative could not account for. These experiences should be retrieved and recovered, though this is not the time or place for that. What we face now is another exercise in mystification, in which the protocols that come into operation every time the social fabric enters a crisis may foreclose the possibilities that are opening up. It would be premature to suggest that this is about to happen, however.

In our cursory and often extremely unpleasant perusals of Western far-left social media, we have noticed that all too often, the intelligence falls victim to our penchant to run the rule over this or that struggle. So much of what passes for “commentary” tends to fall on either side of two poles—impassioned acclamation of the power of the proletarian intelligence or cynical denunciation of its populist recuperation. None of us can bear the suspense of having to suspend our judgment on something outside our ken, and we hasten to find someone who can formalize this unwieldy mass of information into a rubric that we can comprehend and digest, in order that we can express our support or apprehension.

We have no real answers for anybody who wants to know whether they should care about what’s going on in Hong Kong as opposed to, say, France, Algeria, Sudan. But we can plead with those who are interested in understanding what’s happening to take the time to develop an understanding of this city. Though we don’t entirely share their politics and have some quibbles with the facts presented therein, we endorse any coverage of events in Hong Kong that Ultra, Nao, and Chuang have offered over the years to the English-speaking world. Ultra’s piece on the Umbrella Movement is likely the best account of the events currently available.

Our banner in the marches, which is usually found at the front of our drum squad. It reads “There are no ‘good citizens’, only potential criminals.” This banner was made in response to propaganda circulated by pro-Beijing establishmentarian political groups in Hong Kong, assuring “good citizens” everywhere that extradition measures do not threaten those with a sound conscience who are quietly minding their own business. Photo by WWS from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

If we understand “the left” as a political subject that situates questions of class struggle and labor at the center of its politics, it’s not entirely certain that such a thing even properly exists in Hong Kong. Of course, friends of ours run excellent blogs, and there are small grouplets and the like. Certainly, everybody talks about the wealth gap, rampant poverty, the capitalist class, the fact that we are all “打工仔” (jobbers, working folk) struggling to survive. But, as almost anywhere else, the primary form of subjectivity and identification that everyone subscribes to is the idea of citizenship in a national community. It follows that this imagined belonging is founded on negation, exclusion, and demarcation from the Mainland. You can only imagine the torture of seeing the tiresome “I’m a Hong Konger, not Chinese!” t-shirts on the subway, or hearing “Hong Kongers add oil!” (essentially, “way to go!”) chanted ad nauseam for an entire afternoon during recent marches.

It should interest readers from abroad to know that the word “left” in Hong Kong has two connotations. Obviously, for the generation of our parents and their parents before them, “Left” means Communist. Which is why “Left” could refer to a businessman who is a Party member, or a pro-establishment politician who is notoriously pro-China. For younger people, the word “Left” is a stigma (often conjugated with “plastic,” a word in Cantonese that sounds like “dickhead”) attached to a previous generation of activists who were involved in a prior sequence of social struggle—including struggles to prevent the demolition of Queen’s Ferry Pier in Central, against the construction of the high-speed Railway going through the northeast of Hong Kong into China, and against the destruction of vast tracts of farmland in the North East territories, all of which ended in demoralizing defeat. These movements were often led by articulate spokespeople—artists or NGO representatives who forged tactical alliances with progressives in the pan-democratic movement. The defeat of these movements, attributed to their apprehensions about endorsing direct action and their pleas for patience and for negotiations with authority, is now blamed on that generation of activists. All the rage and frustration of the young people who came of age in that period, heeding the direction of these figureheads who commanded them to disperse as they witnessed yet another defeat, yet another exhibition of orchestrated passivity, has progressively taken a rightward turn. Even secondary and university student bodies that have traditionally been staunchly center-left and progressive have become explicitly nationalist.

One crucial tenet among this generation, emerging from a welter of disappointments and failures, is a focus on direct action, and a consequent refusal of “small group discussions,” “consensus,” and the like. This was a theme that first appeared in the umbrella movement—most prominently in the Mong Kok encampment, where the possibilities were richest, but where the right was also, unfortunately, able to establish a firm foothold. The distrust of the previous generation remains prevalent. For example, on the afternoon of June 12, in the midst of the street fights between police and protesters, several members of a longstanding social-democratic party tasked themselves with relaying information via microphone to those on the front lines, telling them where to withdraw to if they needed to escape, what holes in the fronts to fill, and similar information. Because of this distrust of parties, politicians, professional activists and their agendas, many ignored these instructions and instead relied on word of mouth information or information circulating in online messaging groups.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the founding myth of this city is that refugees and dissidents fled communist persecution to build an oasis of wealth and freedom, a fortress of civil liberties safeguarded by the rule of law. In view of that, on a mundane level, it could be said that many in Hong Kong already understand themselves as being in revolt, in the way they live and the freedoms they enjoy—and that they consider this identity, however vacuous and tenuous it may be, to be a property that has to be defended at all costs. It shouldn’t be necessary to say much here about the fact that much of the actual ecological “wealth” that constitutes this city—its most interesting (and often poorest) neighborhoods, a whole host of informal clubs, studios, and dwelling places situated in industrial buildings, farmland in the Northeast territories, historic walled villages and rural districts—are being pillaged and destroyed piece by piece by the state and private developers, to the resounding indifference of these indignant citoyens.

In any case, if liberals are successful in deploying their Cold War language about the need to defend civil liberties and human rights from the encroaching Red Tide, and right-wing populist calls to defend the integrity of our identity also gain traction, it is for these deep-rooted and rather banal historical reasons. Consider the timing of this struggle, how it exploded when images of police brutalizing and arresting young students went viral—like a perfect repetition of the prelude to the umbrella movement. This happened within a week of the annual candlelight vigil commemorating those killed in the Tiananmen Massacre on June 4, 1989, a date remembered in Hong Kong as the day tanks were called in to steamroll over students peacefully gathering in a plea for civil liberties. It is impossible to overstate the profundity of this wound, this trauma, in the formation of the popular psyche; this was driven home when thousands of mothers gathered in public, in an almost perfect mirroring of the Tiananmen mothers, to publicly grieve for the disappeared futures of their children, now eclipsed in the shadow of the communist monolith. It stupefies the mind to think that the police—not once now, but twice—broke the greatest of all taboos: opening fire on the young.

In light of this, it would be naïve to suggest that anything significant has happened yet to suggest that to escaping the “chokehold” that you describe “scholarist” liberals and “citizenist” right-wingers maintaining on the narrative here. Both of these factions are simply symptoms of an underlying condition, aspects of an ideology that has to be attacked and taken apart in practice. Perhaps we should approach what is happening right now as a sort of psychoanalysis in public, with the psychopathology of our city exposed in full view, and see the actions we engage in collectively as a chance to work through traumas, manias, and obsessive complexes together. While it is undoubtedly dismaying that the momentum and morale of this struggle is sustained, across the social spectrum, by a constant invocation of the “Hong Kong people,” who are incited to protect their home at all costs, and while this deeply troubling unanimity covers over many problems,1 we accept the turmoil and the calamity of our time, the need to intervene in circumstances that are never of our own choosing. However bleak things may appear, this struggle offers a chance for new encounters, for the elaboration of new grammars.

Graffiti seen in the road occupation in Admiralty near the government quarters, reading “Carry a can of paint with you, it’s a remedy for canine rabies.” Cops are popularly referred to as “dogs” here. Photo by WWS from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

What has happened to the discourse of civility in the interlude between the umbrella movement and now? Did it contract, expand, decay, transform?

That’s an interesting question to ask. Perhaps the most significant thing that we can report about the current sequence that, astonishingly, when a small fringe of protesters attempted to break into the legislative council on June 9 following a day-long march, it was not universally criticized as an act of lunacy or, worse, the work of China or police provocateurs. Bear in mind that on June 9 and 12, the two attempts to break into the legislative council building thus far, the legislative assembly was not in session; people were effectively attempting to break into an empty building.

Now, much as we have our reservations about the effectiveness of doing such a thing in the first place,2 this is extraordinary, considering the fact that the last attempt to do so, which occurred in a protest against development in the North East territories shortly before the umbrella movement, took place while deliberations were in session and was broadly condemned or ignored.3 Some might suggest that the legacy of the Sunflower movement in Taiwan remains a big inspiration for many here; others might say that the looming threat of Chinese annexation is spurring the public to endorse desperate measures that they would otherwise chastise.

On the afternoon of June 12, when tens of thousands of people suddenly found themselves assaulted by riot police, scrambling to escape from barrages of plastic bullets and tear gas, nobody condemned the masked squads in the front fighting back against the advancing lines of police and putting out the tear gas canisters as they landed. A longstanding, seemingly insuperable gulf has always existed between the “peaceful” protesters (pejoratively referred to as “peaceful rational non-violent dickheads” by most of us on the other side) and the “bellicose” protesters who believe in direct action. Each side tends to view the other with contempt.

Protesters transporting materials to build barricades. The graffiti on the wall can be roughly (and liberally) translated as “Hong Kongers ain’t nuthin’ to fuck wit’.” Photo by WWS from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

The online forum lihkg has functioned as a central place for young people to organize, exchange political banter, and circulate information relating to this struggle. For the first time, a whole host of threads on this site have been dedicated to healing this breach or at least cultivating respect for those who do nothing but show up for the marches every Sunday—if only because marches that number in the millions and bring parts of the city to a temporary standstill are a pretty big deal, however mind-numbingly boring they may be in actuality. The last time the marches were anywhere close to this huge, a Chief Executive stepped down and the amending of a law regarding freedom of speech was moved to the back burner. All manner of groups are attempting to invent a way to contribute to the struggle, the most notable of which is the congregation of Christians that have assembled in front of police lines at the legislative council, chanting the same hymn without reprieve for a week and a half. That hymn has become a refrain that will likely reverberate through struggles in the future, for better or worse.

Are there clear openings or lines of flight in this movement that would allow for interventions that undermine the power of the police, of the law, of the commodity, without producing a militant subject that can be identified and excised?

It is difficult to answer this question. Despite the fact that proletarians compose the vast majority of people waging this struggle—proletarians whose lives are stolen from them by soulless jobs, who are compelled to spend more and more of their wages paying rents that continue to skyrocket because of comprehensive gentrification projects undertaken by state officials and private developers (who are often one and the same)—you must remember that “free market capitalism” is taken by many to be a defining trait of the cultural identity of Hong Kong, distinguishing it from the “red” capitalism managed by the Communist Party. What currently exists in Hong Kong, for some people, is far from ideal; when one says “the rich,” it invokes images of tycoon monopolies—cartels and communist toadies who have formed a dark pact with the Party to feed on the blood of the poor.

So, just as people are ardent for a government and institutions that we can properly call “our own”—yes, including the police—they desire a capitalism that we can finally call “our own,” a capitalism free from corruption, political chicanery, and the like. It’s easy to chuckle at this, but like any community gathered around a founding myth of pioneers fleeing persecution and building a land of freedom and plenty from sacrifice and hard work… it’s easy to understand why this fixation exerts such a powerful hold on the imagination.

This is a city that fiercely defends the initiative of the entrepreneur, of private enterprise, and understands every sort of hustle as a way of making a living, a tactic in the tooth-and-nail struggle for survival. This grim sense of life as survival is omnipresent in our speech; when we speak of “working,” we use the term “搵食,” which literally means looking for our next meal. That explains why protesters have traditionally been very careful to avoid alienating the working masses by actions such as blockading a road used by busses transporting working stiffs back home.

While we understand that much of our lives are preoccupied with and consumed by work, nobody dares to propose the refusal of work, to oppose the indignity of being treated as producer-consumers under the dominion of the commodity. The police are chastised for being “running dogs” of an evil totalitarian empire, rather than being what they actually are: the foot soldiers of the regime of property.

What is novel in the current situation is that many people now accept that acts of solidarity with the struggle, however minute,4 can lead to arrest, and are prepared to tread this shifting line between legality and illegality. It is no exaggeration to say that we are witnessing the appearance of a generation that is prepared for imprisonment, something that was formerly restricted to “professional activists” at the forefront of social movements. At the same time, there is no existing discussion regarding what the force of law is, how it operates, or the legitimacy of the police and prisons as institutions. People simply feel they need to employ measures that transgress the law in order the preserve the sanctity of the Law, which has been violated and dishonored by the cowboys of communist corruption.

However, it is important to note that this is the first time that proposals for strikes in various sectors and general strikes have been put forward regarding an issue that is, on the surface of it, unrelated to labor.

Our friends in the “Housewives Against Extradition” section of the march on September 9. The picture shows a group of housewives and aunties, many of whom were on the streets for the first time. Photo by WWS from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

How do barricades and occupations like the one from a few days ago reproduce themselves in the context of Hong Kong?

Barricades are simply customary now. Whenever people gather en masse and intend to occupy a certain territory to establish a front, barricades are built quickly and effectively. There is a creeping sense now that occupations are becoming routine and futile, physically taxing and ultimately inefficient. What’s interesting in this struggle is that people are really spending a lot of time thinking about what “works,” what requires the least expenditure of effort and achieves the maximum effect in paralyzing parts of the city or interrupting circulation, rather than what holds the greatest moral appeal to an imagined “public” watching everything from the safety of the living room—or even, conversely, what “feels” the most militant.

There have been many popular proposals for “non-cooperative” quotidian actions such as jamming up an entire subway train by coordinating groups of friends to pack the cars with people and luggage for a whole afternoon, or cancelling bank accounts and withdrawing savings from savings accounts in order to create inflation. Some have spread suggestions regarding how to dodge paying taxes for the rest of your life. These might not seem like much, but what’s interesting is the relentless circulation of suggestions from all manner of quarters, from people with varying kinds of expertise, about how people can act on their own initiative where they live or work and in their everyday lives, rather than imagining “the struggle” as something that is waged exclusively on the streets by masked, able-bodied youth.

Whatever criticisms anybody might have about what has happened thus far, this formidable exercise in collective intelligence is really incredibly impressive—an action can be proposed in a message group or on an anonymous message board thread, a few people organize to do it, and it’s done without any fuss or fanfare. Forms circulate and multiply as different groups try them out and modify them.

In the West, Leninists and Maoists have been screaming bloody murder about “CIA Psyop” or “Western backed color revolution.” Have hegemonic forces in Hong Kong invoked the “outside agitator” theme on the ground at a narrative level?

Actually, that is the official line of the Chief Executive, who has repeatedly said that she regards the events of the past week as riotous behavior incited by foreign interests that are interested in conducting a “color revolution” in the city. I’m not sure if she would repeat that line now that she has apologized publicly for “creating contradictions” and discord with her decisions, but all the same—it’s hilarious that tankies share the exact same opinion as our formal head of state.

It’s an open secret that various pro-democracy NGOs, parties, and thinktanks receive American funding. It’s not some kind of occult conspiracy theory that only tankies know about. But these tankies are suggesting that the platform that coordinates the marches—a broad alliance of political parties, NGOs, and the like—is also the ideological spearhead and architect of the “movement,” which is simply a colossal misunderstanding. That platform has been widely denounced, discredited, and mocked by the “direct action” tendencies that are forming all around us, and it is only recently that, as we said above, there are slightly begrudging threads on the Internet offering them indirect praise for being able to coordinate marches that actually achieve something. If only tankies would stop treating everybody like mindless neo-colonial sheep acting at the cryptic behest of Western imperialist intelligence.

That said, it would be dishonest if we failed to mention that, alongside threads on message boards discussing the niceties of direct action tactics abroad, there are also threads alerting everyone to the fact that voices in the White House have expressed their disapproval for the law. Some have even celebrated this. Also, there is a really wacky petition circulating on Facebook to get people to appeal to the White House for foreign intervention. I’m sure one would see these sorts of things in any struggle of this scale in any non-Western city. They aren’t smoking guns confirming imperialist manipulation; they are fringe phenomena that are not the driving force behind events thus far.

Have any slogans, neologisms, new slang, popular talking points, or funny phrases emerged that are unique to the situation?

Yes, lots, though we’re not sure how we would go about translating them. But the force that is generating these memes, that is inspiring all these Whatsapp and Telegram stickers and catchphrases, is actually the police force.

Between shooting people in the eye with plastic bullets, flailing their batons about, and indiscriminately firing tear gas canisters at peoples’ heads and groins, they also found the time to utter some truly classic pearls that have made their way on to t-shirts. One of these bons mots is the rather unfortunate and politically incorrect “liberal cunt.” In the heat of a skirmish between police and protesters, a policeman called someone at the frontlines by that epithet. All our swear words in Cantonese revolve around male and female genitalia, unfortunately; we have quite a few words for private parts. In Cantonese, this formulation doesn’t sound as sensible as it does in English. Said together in Cantonese, “liberal” and “cunt” sounds positively hilarious.

Does this upheaval bear any connections to the fishball riots or Hong Kong autonomy from a few years ago?

A: The “fishball riots” were a demonstrative lesson in many ways, especially for people like us, who found ourselves spectators situated at some remove from the people involved. It was a paroxysmic explosion of rage against the police, a completely unexpected aftershock from the collapse of the umbrella movement. An entire party, the erstwhile darlings of right-wing youth everywhere, “Hong Kong Indigenous,” owes its whole career to this riot. They made absolutely sure that everyone knew they were attending, showing up in uniform and waving their royal blue flags at the scene. They were voted into office, disqualified, and incarcerated—one of the central members is now seeking asylum in Germany, where his views on Hong Kong independence have apparently softened considerably in the course of hanging out with German Greens. That is fresh in the memory of folks who know that invisibility is now paramount.

What effect has Joshua Wong’s release had?

A: We are not sure how surprised readers from overseas will be to discover, after perhaps watching that awful documentary about Joshua Wong on Netflix, that his release has not inspired much fanfare at all. Demosisto are now effectively the “Left Plastic” among a new batch of secondary students.

Are populist factions functioning as a real force of recuperation?

A: All that we have written above illustrates how, while the struggle currently escapes the grasp of every established group, party, and organization, its content is populist by default. The struggle has attained a sprawling scale and drawn in a wide breadth of actors; right now, it is expanding by the minute. But there is little thought given to the fact that many of those who are most obviously and immediately affected by the law will be people whose work takes place across the border—working with and providing aid to workers in Shenzhen, for instance.

Nobody is entirely sure what the actual implications of the law are. Even accounts written by professional lawyers vary quite widely, and this gives press outlets that brand themselves as “voices of the people”5 ample space to frame the entire issue as simply a matter of Hong Kong’s constitutional autonomy being compromised, with an entire city in revolt against the imposition of an all-encompassing surveillance state.

Perusing message boards and conversing with people around the government complex, you would think that the introduction of this law means that expressions of dissent online or objectionable text messages to friends on the Mainland could lead to extradition. This is far from being the case, as far as the letter of the law goes. But the events of the last few years, during which booksellers in Hong Kong have been disappeared for selling publications banned on the Mainland and activists in Hong Kong have been detained and deprived of contact upon crossing the border, offer little cause to trust a party that is already notorious for cooking up charges and contravening the letter of the law whenever convenient. Who knows what it will do once official authorization is granted.

Paranoia invariably sets in whenever the subject of China comes up. On the evening of June 12, when the clouds of tear gas were beginning to clear up, the founder of a Telegram message group with 10,000+ active members was arrested by the police, who commanded him to unlock his phone. His testimony revealed that he was told that even if he refused, they would hack his phone anyway. Later, the news reported that he was using a Xiaomi phone at the time. This news went viral, with many commenting that his choice of phone was both bold and idiotic, since urban legend has it that Xiaomi phones not only have a “backdoor” that permits Xiaomi to access the information on every one of its phones and assume control of the information therein, but that Xiaomi—by virtue of having its servers in China—uploads all information stored on its cloud to the database of party overlords. It is futile to try to suggest that users who are anxious about such things can take measures to seal backdoors, or that background information leeching can be detected by simply checking the data usage on your phone. Xiaomi is effectively regarded as an expertly engineered Communist tracking device, and arguments about it are no longer technical, but ideological to the point of superstition.

This “post-truth” dimension of this struggle, compounded with all the psychopathological factors that we enumerated above, makes everything that is happening that much more perplexing, that much more overwhelming. For so long, fantasy has been the impetus for social struggle in this city—the fantasy of a national community, urbane, free-thinking, civilized and each sharing in the negative freedoms that the law provides, the fantasy of electoral democracy… Whenever these affirmative fantasies are put at risk, they are defended and enacted in public, en masse, and the sales for “I Am Hong Konger” [sic] go through the roof.

This is what gives the proceedings a distinctly conservative, reactionary flavor, despite how radical and decentralized the new forms of action are. All we can do as a collective is seek ways to subvert this fantasy, to expose and demonstrate its vacuity in form and content.

At this time, it feels surreal that everybody around us is so certain, so clear about what they need to do—oppose this law with every means that they have available to them—while the reasons for doing so remain hopelessly obscure. It could very well be the case that this suffocating opacity is our lot for the time being, in this phase premised upon more action, less talk, on the relentless need to keep abreast of and act on the flow of information that is constantly accelerating around us.

In so many ways, what we see happening around us is a fulfillment of what we have dreamt of for years. So many bemoan the “lack of political leadership,” which they see as a noxious habit developed over years of failed movements, but the truth is that those who are accustomed to being protagonists of struggles, including ourselves as a collective, have been overtaken by events. It is no longer a matter of a tiny scene of activists concocting a set of tactics and programs and attempting to market them to the public. “The public” is taking action all around us, exchanging techniques on forums, devising ways to evade surveillance, to avoid being arrested at all costs. It is now possible to learn more about fighting the police in one afternoon than we did in a few years.

In the midst of this breathless acceleration, is it possible to introduce another rhythm, in which we can engage in a collective contemplation of what has become of us, and what we are becoming as we rush headlong into the tumult?

As ever, we stand here, fighting alongside our neighbors, ardently looking for friends.

Hand-written statements by protesters, weathered after an afternoon of heavy rain. Photo by WWS from Tak Cheong Lane Collective.

In reflecting on the problems concealed by the apparent unanimity of the “Hong Kong people,” we might start by asking who that framework suggests that this city is for, who comprises this imaginary subject. We have seen Nepalese and Pakistani brothers and sisters on the streets, but they hesitate to make their presence known for fear of being accused of being thugs employed by the police. ↩

“The places of institutional power exert a magnetic attraction on revolutionaries. But when the insurgents manage to penetrate parliaments, presidential palaces, and other headquarters of institutions, as in Ukraine, in Libya or in Wisconsin, it’s only to discover empty places, that is, empty of power, and furnished without any taste. It’s not to prevent the “people” from “taking power” that they are so fiercely kept from invading such places, but to prevent them from realizing that power no longer resides in the institutions. There are only deserted temples there, decommissioned fortresses, nothing but stage sets—real traps for revolutionaries.” –The Invisible Committee, To Our Friends ↩

Incidentally, that attempt was a good deal more spontaneous and successful. The police had hardly imagined that crowds of people who had sat peacefully with their heads in their hands feeling helpless while the developments were authorized would suddenly start attempting to rush the council doors by force, breaking some of the windows. ↩

On the night of June 11, young customers in a McDonald’s in Admiralty were all searched and had their identity cards recorded. On June 12, a video went viral showing a young man transporting a box of bottled water to protesters who were being brutalized by a squad of policemen with batons. ↩

To give two rather different examples, this includes the populist, xenophobic, and vehemently anti-Communist Apple Daily, and the “Hong Kong Free Press,” an independent English online rag of the “angry liberal” stripe run by expatriates that has an affinity for young localist/nativist leaders. ↩

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larksinging · 5 years

Text

aaaand here is a gift for @rorykillmore ‘s birthday! you didn’t say what you wanted which is good because i made you something completely fucking ridiculous instead. i call it “villanelle suffers”. also uh cw for graphic deaths

(also shoutout to jay for helping me brainstorm a bunch of this)

meeks!! i know its been a weird and difficult year, and you’ve been putting into so much hard work and dealing with a lot. i dont know if anything i alone can do can pay you back for all that, but i hope at least this can brighten your day a bit! you deserve it. and to get a bit sappy, you’re one of my best friends, and my life has greatly improved for knowing you. anyway i hope next year is more settled and all that hard work pays off!!

“Ah, quite the opposite. I’m here to congratulate you.” Konstantin sits down next to her on the couch. “I didn’t even have to tell you to make that last one an accident! Good job.”

Villanelle realizes she has two options: tell Konstantin the truth, or take credit for the freak accident.

“You know me, I just want to make you happy,” She replies in a sing-song voice.

“...Officials now believe that the incident started because of a mechanical failure in the pulley system, which caused it to snap and set off a chain reaction that sent the three elevators at the Delta hotel plummeting, killing twenty-three people.”

“Whoa,” Villanelle hums between mouthfuls of popcorn. “How terrible.”

The droning of the television doesn’t quite drown out the sound of Konstantin entering her apartment. Villanelle pretends it does and ignores him. He lingers near the arm of her couch, looks between her and the TV, and then grabs the remote and shuts it off.

“Hey, I was watching that!” Villanelle throws some popcorn at him. “That’s very rude.”

“I didn’t take you for the sort to watch the news,” Konstantin brushes himself off.

“Half of it nowadays is fake. So it’s like watching a soap opera!” Villanelle waves a hand dismissively. “Anyway. You have a job for me? You didn’t come here to watch TV with me, I guess. Too bad. I ‘borrowed’ Devil from my neighbor. It looks terrible.”

“You’re really selling this,” Konstantin responds dryly as he pulls a postcard out of his pocket. “But you should really get some rest. This one’s big.”

That’s curious and exciting enough that Villanelle can’t quite think of a good quip when he leaves.

By “big”, it turns out that Konstantin did not mean that it was exciting or dangerous, but that literally it was a bigger body count than usual. Five whole people this time!

Cursory research shows that they’re all a bunch of nobodies. No, literally! Most of them are college students from the same college. The only interesting thing about them is that they’re the five survivors of the weird elevator accident that was all over the news.

It could be some weird insurance fraud kind of thing. It’s gonna be real suspicious if all the survivors happen to die. But it’s not Villanelle’s job to care about that kind of stuff.

The first on her list is Jay, engineering, who she watches from across the street at a cafe. She notes them by their major because otherwise they blend together like the boring as of a B movie.

Right on time, exiting the building, there he is. She’s got a couple ideas in mind, most involving stabbing, but... then he takes a slight detour and goes over to a nearby payphone.

“Who even uses payphones anymore?” She grumbles to herself and gets up to find a good position to hang around in wait. Might as well lurk at nearby wall and pretend to look at her phone. He seems pretty serious about whatever call he’s making.

Villanelle’s there for barely more than a minute when the edge of the phone booth starts to spark ominously. She blinks, and before she can process it, he starts convulsing like he’s being electrocuted. She, and a few other shocked passersby watch in confused and terrified silence. Some smoke rises off his shoulders.

With no warning, he launches backwards and through the glass. It shattered and he sprawls out on the sidewalk below, blood starting to seep from cuts on his face and embedded glass in his shoulders and arms. Someone in the crowd screams. About five people reach for their phones, either to call for help or take a picture. Someone else rushes to his side, feels his wrist, and then (pathetically) starts trying CPR. Too late, Jay’s clearly dead.

Well. That works too.

The footsteps this time have a definitive lack of stomping, which means that Konstantin must be in a good mood. Great! Because Villanelle didn’t want his grumpiness to interrupt her painting her nails.

“If you tell me to hurry up, I’ll throw paint at you,” She warns. “Five is a lot! I’m working on it.”

“Ah, quite the opposite. I’m here to congratulate you.” Konstantin sits down next to her on the couch. “I didn’t even have to tell you to make that last one an accident! Good job.”

Villanelle realizes she has two options: tell Konstantin the truth, or take credit for the freak accident.

“You know me, I just want to make you happy,” She replies in a sing-song voice.

“O.K. Cool. Keep up the good work.” He gives her a thumbs up.

“Please never do that motion with your hands again. You doing that is -- ugh.”

The next one on her list is Charlie, art major. The first thing Villanelle notes about her is that her outfit is terrible. It’s like what a hangover would look like as clothes. Artists!

Villanelle tracks her to a mall. The parking garage is just a bit too full right now, but maybe she’ll stalk her through the mall until she comes back. She watches the girl enter the elevator (haha, ironic) heading down to ground level. Too bad there’s a couple other people in the elevator. That’s fine, Villanelle can just take the stairs.

Just as she turns to head down the stairs she hears a faint commotion. Someone in the elevator bumps into Charlie just as the elevator springs into motion. As she stumbles towards the door, something snaps and the elevator jerks and falls. Charlie’s positioned conveniently enough so that her head is separated clean from her shoulders as the elevator plummets. The freed head bounces along the floor and rolls almost to Villanelle’s feet.

The screaming from the elevator (which sounds like it’s stopped the next floor down, not crashed, now THAT’S ironic) is the perfect soundtrack to Villanelle’s disbelief.

“Wow,” She says, “Just like that movie! Genetic!”

-------

Bizarre accidents aside, Villanelle is not about to lose her momentum. The last three survivors all end up congregating on the beach. Villanelle, with a pair of new designer sunglasses coming out of her next paycheck, listens to their hushed conversation from an inconspicuous distance away. Who talks in hushed whispers about something serious at a beach? Seriously?

“I’m telling you, what if death has a plan, and we messed it up?” One of them, who Villanelle remembers as Billy, philosophy, is drawing something in the sand. “We were supposed to die in those elevators, but we didn’t.”

“Because of your... vision, or whatever?” Tommy, film, rolls his eyes. Villanelle also rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, because we got off. And now it’s coming to hunt us down one by one. If we can just see the signs, maybe...”

Villanelle doesn’t hear the rest of what he says, because a stray gust of wind blows sand into her face. She sputters even as some paper flies behind her to where they’re sitting.

“This is-- ow.” Villanelle glances back to see the last of them, Sara, dance, toss a book down. “Papercut. Anyway, this is ridiculous. Death isn’t stalking us. Get real.”

“You tell them,” Villanelle mutters to herself. Except she gets drowned out by some seagulls squawking ominously, which is weird, how can that obnoxious noise sound ominous?

“I’m going for a swim.” Sara stands up pointedly. “You two can keep making up nonsense.”

“Sara, wait--” Billy reaches out, but she’s already heading down the beach.

In the water, it’s easy enough to bump against someone with a concealed knife. So Villanelle stretches and languidly rises to her feet. Sara’s already wading past the shallows as Villanelle follows her. Except the shape of something cresting through the water slows her, and she watches the events unfold in dizzy shock.

Just as Billy shouts Sara’s name, a shark leaps from the water and drags Sara under. The water bubbles up red and someone behind Villanelle screams. After a few seconds, Sara actually does resurface and stumbles out of the water. Villanelle winces at the bite wound on her leg. Sara manages to limp back onto the beach when a rogue blast of wind hits. Nearby beach goers, still watching Sara, hold onto their hats as a beach umbrellas is ripped from its post. The umbrella goes spinning in the wind, gaining momentum. And then comes to a dead stop by impaling Sara.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Villanelle says.

“You lied to me,” Konstantin accuses.

“Whaat.” Villanelle doesn’t bother to get up from where she’s sprawled on the couch. “I did not.”

“You did,” He counters. “Those were all accidents. You didn’t actually do your job.”

“Oh. That. Okay, maybe I did lie.” Villanelle cranes her neck to look up at them. “But they’re dead either way, so does it really matter?”

Konstantin raises a finger to scold her, then hesitates and lowers it. He sighs. “Okay. Well. The Twelve aren’t angry, but they’re not going to pay you if you’re not actually the one doing it.”

“What! It’s not my fault the freak accidents are beating me to the punch!”

“Then get more clever about the last two. I know you can.” He turns and waves as Villanelle crosses her arms and pouts.

“Stupid... death, or whatever.”

This time, okay, this time she’s not gonna get one-upped by random acts of violence. Villanelle tracks Tommy to the library where he’s studying late into the night. Much better. There’s lots of quiet little opportunities for murder and ways for her to manipulate the situation.

For example: she’s put a wet floor sign in front of the bathroom on the ground floor so that he’ll be forced to go to one that’s more remote. It shouldn’t work, but it does. Perfect.

The corner of the library outside the third floor bathroom is perfectly quiet and dark. Lots of narrow corners to catch him where nobody else will see. Some of the books might get some blood on them, but… That’s a sacrifice she’s willing to make.

There’s a noise from inside the bathroom and Villanelle is just about ready to explode. But no, it’s fine, he emerges a moment later grumbling with wet shoes and a sizable trickle of water coming from the bathroom. Something must’ve broken, but it wasn’t his head!

Before anything else can happen, she turns around a corner to block him between some shelves.

“Can I help you?” He asks, glancing between her and the direction of the bathroom.

“You could... no, you know, I’m not really in the mood for clever lines.” She just shrugs and pulls out a knife. It spooks him enough that he turns and darts back. “Hey!”

He slips on a nearby puddle and bumps into one of the shelves, which sways and then collapses in his direction. It takes a moment of coughing for Villanelle to see through the dust that it kicked up. The shelf has him pinned face-down on the floor, but from the way he’s struggling he’s still alive.

“See? That is what you get for running.” Villanelle sighs dramatically and walks around the toppled shelf. “This would be easy, they said. And now I’m going to have to lift this off of you. That’s not easy at all.”

She shakes her head to see that he’s just twitching occasionally. Uh-oh. She goes to work lifting the shelf off of him, which is a little easier with all the books having fallen out. She moves it just enough to get to a point where she can lift him up, and….

He’s dead. His face is dripping wet. Villanelle looks down at the puddle on the ground.

“You drowned in a puddle.” She shakes his corpse. “You drowned in a puddle! How could you.”

This time, Villanelle’s just taking a walk through a park at like 1am because someone is playing a cosmic joke on her and she hates her life and goddamnit shes gonna find somewhere that serves ice cream and/or alcohol at 1am. One of those is easier than the other.

What she gets instead is Billy, wandering through the same wooded park that she is. Due to an extremely convoluted series of events that might be called a narrative climax, she’s sure. Villanelle just kind of stops and stares at him.

“It’s you,” He gasps, “The specter of death. You’re death itself.”

“No,” Villanelle answers. “Well, yes. I mean, I am here to kill you. But there’s nothing weird and supernatural about it. Get a grip!”

Billy stares at her for another second, and then fucking books it. Villanelle just sighs because of course, and follows him. She’s going to get this paycheck, damnit.

Her heart leaps into her throat when their chase rounds a corner and he stumbles into a wood chipper. She watches in horror as he goes tumbling in head first, and she holds up an arm to protect herself from a spray of blood...

...Only an annoyingly sinister leaf lands on her arm. Oh. The wood chipper wasn’t on. She goes over and wrenches Billy free of it, but he manages to squirm out of her grasp.

“Come back here!” She calls. Her voice is drowned out by a loud creaking.

Her last target turns to look at her while running and, before both their eyes, one of the trees inexplicably leans and then comes crashing down. Villanelle’s mouth hangs open as she watches it fall directly onto Billy and the comically horrific crunch that follows.

A moment of shocked silence hangs in the air as the leaves all settle.

“I give up,” Villanelle announces. “Okay, Death. You win! Give a girl a break, geeze.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Villanelle confesses when Konstantin comes in.

His pace slows to a stop. Something churns behind his expression. Concern, maybe? The realization that she might need to be taken care of?

“I can’t be upstaged by freak accidents anymore!” Villanelle wipes a tear away. “Do you know what this is doing for my reputation? For my self-esteem?”

Konstantin’s choked laugh just makes her glare dramatically. “Don’t worry. Your next job is in Florence. Political. You love that kind.”

Villanelle perks up. “Oh, good! You always know how to cheer me up.”

Kostantin smiles. “Okay, but tell me one thing. Did a tree really fall on him, or did you just make that up?”

“Of course it did! Would I ever lie? Okay, fair. Would I ever lie that badly if it’s warn’t true?”

“Mm. Fair enough.”

#rorykillmore #My writing #I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO TAG THIS #anyway this idea struck me out of nowhere #i hope you enjoy

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lexx-mlem-tumblerer · 6 years

Text

lONG QUIZ

(btw i edited this so i could report on tumblr and dev art i will leave a link to the dev art one right here ;https://www.deviantart.com/cloakedeclips-qp/journal/LONG-QUIZ-773977454?ga_submit_new=10%3A1543101824 )

time started 5:00pm 1. Name : KRW 2. Nickname(s) : luecus 3. Gender: male 4. When do you feel best (morning, afternoon, night) 5. Are you talkative? : yes 6. Tend to find fault with others : no 7. Does a thorough job : yes 8. Is depressed : extreamly and crippling i have a darkness inside me 9. Is relaxed and handles stress well : sometimes depends on my emotional and mental state 10. Is curious about lots of different things : yes ocean space animals you name it 11. Is full of energy : yes absolutely i love to be energized 12. Starts fights with others : if you piss me off 13. Worries a lot : yes 14. Is lazy :no 15. Cold or Hot? 16. Light or Dark? 17: Sweet or Salty? 18. Coke or Lemonade? 19. Candy in Popcorn? 20. Loud or Quiet? 21. Fast or Slow? 22. Soft or Hard :3? 23. Easy or Difficult? 24. Shiny or Sparkly? 25. Vampires or Werewolves? 26. Puppies or Kittens: 27: Rain or Shine? 28: Country or City? 29: France or Fiji? 30. Hamburger or Hot dog? 31. Palm tree or Weeping Willow? 32. Dancing or Painting? 33. Story writing or Reporters Writing? 34. TV or Computer? 35. Face book or MySpace? 36. Windows or Mac? 37. Paint (program) or Photoshop? 38. Bases or Normal Computer Drawing? 39. Computer Drawing or Freehand? 40. Colour or Black and White? 41. :la: or :meow: ? 42. Anime or Manga? 42. Have a Diary? yes but thats my secret 43. Have a stuffed toy? To be exsact 192+ 44. Used to have one? still 45. What was / is it? hu 46. Have a pet? 2 47. What is/are they/it ? dog and a rtabbit 48. Have an instrument? lost intrest in it and slowly stopped playing 49. Do you have a piggy bank (any shape) ? no 50. Do you own more than 5 computer games? a lot 51. Do you know who Zelda is? no 52. Do you have an ipod or mp3 or CD player? yes 53. Do you have a gaming console? yes ps4 ps3 3ds and a phone 54. Do you have a bookcase? no 55. Do you own a novelty item, e.g. hannah montana gum boots, spongebob umbrella? yes 56. Can you knit? bearly 57. Can you crochet? no 58. Can you sew? i do a crappy job but i try 59. Can you do the can can? what is that 60. Can you play more than one instrument (including vocal training)? yes 61. Can you whistle? yes 62. Can you curl your tongue?no 63. Can you click your fingers? snapping? yes 64. Can you touch type? yes 65. Can you eat chilli? no 66. Can you read books with more than 600 pages? yes 67. Can you crack your knuckles? no and you shoudlnt do that 68. Can you crack your neck? no 69. Can you crack your toes? no 70. Can you crack your fingers?no 71. Can you do the moon walk? yes i love to 72. Can you eat snails? once 73. Can you cook? WIFE MATERAL BITCHES 74. Can you sing? yes i love to sing but i'm stage fright 75. Can you dance? yes 76. Can you talk in chipmunk?no 77. Can you raise your eyebrows? yes 78. Can you raise one eyebrow? idk 79. Can you sing the song banana phone? no 80. Can you eat mayonnaise straight out of the jar? NO 81. Do you like pickles? no 82. Do you like pie? cirtian kinds lemon blackberry and blueberry 83. Do you like mayonnaise? under some circumstances 84. Do you like tomato sauce? yes 85. Do you like candy floss? yes 86. Do you like pumpkin? i love it both carving and eating 87. Do you like asparagus? no 88. Do you like brussel sprouts? never tried it 89. Do you like beans? yes 90. Do you like silver beet? what? 91. Do you like carrots? yes 92. Do you like potato? yes 93. Do you like kumura (sweet potato)? I LOVE THEM WITH ALL MY HEART 94. Do you like tomatoes? no 95. Do you like apples? if made right 96. Do you like bananas? meh 97. Do you like pears? never tried 98. Do you like oranges? meh 99. Do you like mandarins?ok 100. Do you like strawberries? love (SORRY ABOUT SKIPPING 11 HERE) 111. Do you like blueberries? yes 112. Do you like blackberries? yes 113. Do you like peaches? yes 114. Do you like raspberries? yes 115. Do you like nectarines? never tried 116. Do you like music? 117. Do you like classical music? 118. Do you like rock music? 119. Do you like pop music? 120. Do you like rap music? 121. Do you like hip hop music? 122. Do you like techno music? 123. Do you like writing? 124. Do you like reading? 125. Do you like art? 116-125 just to all this i love them all and they are my passion 1. Do you like dancing? not in public 2. Do you like ipods and mp3s? yes 3. Do you like animals? i want to be a zoolagist 4. Do you like wild animals or domestic? both 5. What's your favourite genre of music? .... depression 6. What's your favourite genre of book? horror 7. What's your favourite food? anything from mcdonolds 8. What's your favourite candy? mint 9. What's your favourite book? fahrenheit 451 10. What's your favourite animal? bear 11. What's your favourite season? winter 12. What's your favourite song? Her Last Words - Courtney Parker 13. What's your favourite music composer? none 14. What's your favourite band? none 15. What's your favourite subject? math 16. What's your favourite job? owing a restaurant/bakery 17. What's your favourite career? food truck 18. What's your favourite number? 5 19. What's your favourite day? monday 20. What's your favourite time? midnight/noon 21. What's your favourite breakfast? eggs 22. What's your favourite lunch? pb&j 23. What's your favourite dinner? chickenstrips/steak 24. What's your favourite place to have a date? home 25. What's your favourite website?.... skip 26. What's your favourite shape? cresent 27. What's your favourite colour? purple 28. What's your favourite pattern? plad 29. What's your favourite quote? "there are no mistakes there are just lessons" 30. What's your favourite artist? none 31. What's your favourite author? none 32. What's your favourite outfit? sweaters 33. What's your favourite computer game? anything on nick.com 34. What's your favourite gaming console? play station 35. What's your favourite place to be? home 36. What's your favourite thing to do? be with the ones i care about 37. What's your favourite movie? currently mirrors 38. What's your favourite actor? adam sandler 39. What's your favourite actress? ariana grande 40. What's your favourite movie snack? soda 41. What's your favourite place to watch movies? loudonville theater 42. What's your favourite accessory? bracelt 43. What's your favourite art material to use? pencil 44. What's your favourite place to work on your art? computer desk 45. What's your favourite drink? sprite zero 46. What's your favourite flavour? zero carbs 47. What's your favourite eye colour? grey or purple 48. What's your favourite hair colour? blode :3 49. How many fillings do you have? no 50. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? 2 51. How many followers/Deviations do you have? Deviations: 22 followers: 86 52. How many page views do you have? idk 53. How many people have favourited your work? can't count 54. How many favourites do you have? tumblr: 1,589 dev art: 2,646 55. How many journal entries have you done? 3 56. How many bookmarks (computer) do you have? 47 57. How many things are on your desktop? .... not even ganna try to count 58. What is your desktop picture right now? my dog 59. What is your screen saver of? don't have one 60. What time is it? 5:49 61. What is your computers hard drive called? no clue 62. What's the name of the nearest book to you? twas the night before chrismas 63. Where are you right now? home 64. What was the last movie you watched called? the meg 65. What have you got planned for tomorrow? nothing 66. What are you wearing? shorts and a shirt 67. How many quizzes are in your journal? none? 68. Do you like doing quizzes? yes 69. Why are you doing this quiz? no reson 70. Favourite emote goes here : 🙃 upside down smiley 71. Favourite plz account goes here : no 72. Link to your best picture : no 73. First word that comes to mind? hi 74. What day is it? saturday, november 24, 2018 75. What day is your birthday? march 1st 76. How many days till your birthday? no clue 77. What do you want for a present? a playstation store card 78. What's the best thing you own? my phone 79. What stereotype are you? e.g. nerd, prep, jock, goth : gay 80. What's your favourite word? kohai 81. Why? why not 82. Do you have a cell phone? yes 83. How many contacts do you have? thats personal 84. What is your screen saver on your phone of? stars 85. What games are on you phone? all sorts 86. Is there something important you should be doing while you're doing this test? no 87. Do you wish this quiz would end? meh its ok 88. Do you have an internet diary? yes 89. Are your nails painted? no i bite them constaly 90. Do you have highlights? no 91. Smoke? me 92. Have a disorder? yes 93. Have drugs? no 94. What did you do yesterday? talk to my boyfrined 95. Do you think anyone who watches/follows you has read this far? not really i don't really care 96. How many people watch/follow you? i already answered this 97. The first person to watch/follow you was : tumblr: cheexbot devart: no clue 98. Second? tumblr: loverpod153 99. Third? tumblr: emeraldthefox 100. Fourth? tumblr: teddy-frequency 101. Why are you on deviant art/tumblr? why are you here 102. When did you first start? i don't really know i got both my accouts when i was about 12 or 13 so idk 103. What's your personal quote? "i've tried to die before and failed and then i realixed i was dead this whole time 104. Operating system? what 105. Hero? ANDREW~SENPAI 106. Favourite cartoon character? spongegog 107. Book character? guy montag from fahrenheit 451 108. Movie character? hmm no clue 109. Pick up the book next to you, page 26, line 8? can't 110. What do you do in your spare time? this 111. What's your favourite TV show? spongebob 112. I like long quizzes... do you? i'm doing this aren't i 113. Best friend/s? hmm andrew 114. Have you started a deviant art/tumbr family? yes 115. Are you going to? YES I AM 116. Do you even know what that is? not really but thats what makes it fun 117. Has at least one of these questions confused you? yes 118. What season is it? winter going into fall 119. What month is it? november 120. What day is it? saturday 121. What year is it? 2018 122. What species are you? a disgusting specied that destroies everything they need 123. If you were a mythical creature you'd be: diclonius 124. If you were a drink you'd be: sprite zero 125. If you were an object you'd be: a gigabyte 126. If you were a book you'd be: idk 127. If you were a movie you'd be: oculous 128. Are you bored? no 129. What was the last thing you celebrated? thanks giving 130. What was the last thing you posted on deviant art/tumbr ? tumblr: http://lexx-the-nyctofriend.tumblr.com/post/180454801540/when-you-fall-in-love-you-realize-just-how dev art: https://www.deviantart.com/cloakedeclips-qp/art/andrew-773281885 131. Do you do anything for deviant art/tumblr literature? yes 132. Are you a llama trader? kinda 133. Llama trade? maybe 134. How many points do you have? no clue 135. Do you have a donation pool open? no 136. Do you buy your points? no 137. Do you buy art off deviant art/tumblr? no 138. Do you have a premium membership? no 139. Do you have deviant wear? no 140. Are you planning to get a premium membership? no 141. Saving up? no 142. Requests open? allways 143. Art trades? maybe 144. Collabs? yes 145. Commissions? no 146. You you have a skype or IM? yes 147. Online names you've used? lexx/cloaked eclips 148. On your computer what's your user name? guest 149. Are your pillows feather pillows? mix 150. Ever had a pillow fight? yes 151. Are you athletic? kinda 152. Do you do any sports? yes 153. Are you allergic to anything? plants 154. Do you like to try new things? yes 155. Are you planning to enter the most recent deviant art competition? no 156. Do you have a guilty pleasure? ..... yes 157. What is it? come closer closer *whispers* no 158. Your favourite computer font is? none 159. Your favourite word processor? word 160. Do you wear jewellery? yes 161. Do you wear make up? maybe 162. Are you obsessed about what you look like? yes but in a bad way 163. How many accounts do you have on deviant art/tumblr? dev art: 1 tumblr: 5 164. Do you have any posters in your room? a fnaf poster 165. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? no 166. Do you have your walls wallpapered or painted? i want to 167. What colour / pattern are they? umm none 168. Name of book next to you? allready did that 169. Do you have birthday parties? yes 170. What's something weird about you?.... i will dive into that if i get suppot on this post 171. What are your initials? HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHA no 172. Do you have braces? want to 173. Skin colour? browm 174. Glasses/Contacts? 175. Tattoos?i want to get 3 176. Mannerisms? hehehe i have a lot of those 177. Piercings? plan to get them 178. Do you have a birthmark? a bunch of dark brown dots on my chest 179. What's your favourite thing for breakfast? eggs 180. What's your favourite website? meh 181. Do you have a crush on someone? yes 182. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?yes 183. Do you have a secret talent? i can type fast 184. Can you sing the alphabet backwards? no 185. Can you eat a whole pizza? yes about to right noe 186. Can you speak any different languages? i want to learn russian 187. Have you won something at the lottery? no 188. Ran away? tried 189. Solved a rubix cube? HELL NO 190. Gone out in public in your pj's? multiple times 191. Seen a shooting star? yes 192. Had surgery? yes 193. Gotten lost? yes 194. Broken a bone? yes 195. Been to disney land? no (fuck you jeremiah) 196. Been arrested? no 197. Been to any other countries? yes 198. You are annoyed by? people 199. Your are tired of? people 200. You will always? be shy and weird 201. What country do you live in? usa 202. Do you think you are popular? kinds 203. Are you an only child? yes 204. Who are you gonna tag? @teddy-frequency @myfnafstory @lexyconn @wholesome-bear @shtlordhalo 205. TIME FINISHED QUIZ: 6:20 206. How long quiz took you: 50:00.022 blank: https://www.deviantart.com/gem-313-gem/art/The-GIANT-Quiz-170514475 and for those who don’t have a dev art do what i did and edit it so it can for your needs i hope thats not too much to ask More will be added to this quiz :D 🙃

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connorrenwick · 3 years

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Anti Turns Discarded and Broken Umbrellas Into Desk and Table Lamps

We’ve all experienced that frustrating moment when an umbrella gets blown inside out, the force of the movement breaking the spindles and rendering it useless. The thing is that the majority of umbrellas are simply not designed to last, with an average lifespan of just six months. In order to turn this frustration into something positive, Anti takes discarded and broken umbrellas, disassembles them, and upcycles them into desk and table lamps. We spoke to UK-based founder and CEO Mark Howells to find out more.

Tell me a little bit about your childhood, education and background in terms of how you first became interested in creativity, design and sustainability.

I grew up In Hertfordshire in a working class family. My mother can draw and paint and my father is very musical; writing and performing electric and acoustic guitar-based music to this day at 70 years of age. My first exposure to design was via a foundation course in art and design at Watford in the 1990s. I was drawn towards the traditional arts as opposed to design, until I was asked by a tutor, who ran a 3D Design class, to select an object from a series of waste objects she had scavenged from a beach and produce a new product. I chose a section of a washed-up bicycle tire and made a watch strap that buttoned over the tire tread. I loved the process of learning to unsee the original utility of an object and unlocking a new purpose unseen by anyone else before. This led to an explosion of designs using waste. At the time I had a cleaning job in the evenings at a very large office and I would collect items of interest that had been discarded in bins – in particular, computer components – and repurpose them. It was these designs that secured me a place on an Industrial Design degree at Cardiff University. Although I learned a huge amount, I really had no real interest in becoming an Industrial Designer – the assembly line approach of the time was a far cry from the work I had been doing to secure my position on the degree course in the first place. This was the ’90s and sustainability wasn’t a mainstay of the curriculum. I decided to take the drafting skills I had developed and head towards engineering. I worked for various environmental consultancies, which led me to building and land surveying, eventually as a board-level director of a successful surveying practice. In this role, I gained exposure to starting new business units and small businesses – which inspired me to fulfill a long-harbored desire to return to sustainable design.

How would you describe your project/product?

Anti’s first collection is upcycled lamps made of discarded umbrellas that were otherwise destined for landfill. The collected umbrellas are disassembled into their separate materials groups (e.g. plastics, metals, nylon) and are made into desk and table lamps. Over 1 billion umbrellas are made each year but are not designed to last, with an average lifespan of just six months. Anti addresses a waste issue by designing with waste, not creating it – and the new products are easier to disassemble at end-of-life than the umbrella was in its original state. This is the first waste stream we are concentrating on, but there will be others. One of our key focuses is to design repeatable upcycled products that can be made/manufactured at scale. The more we sell, the more waste we reuse, and the more good we can do.

What inspired this project/product?

After living in London and Tokyo, I became very aware of the wastage around umbrellas. In Tokyo, umbrellas are everywhere, you see endless rows of broken umbrellas at railway stations and outside shops. On a typical rainy day in Tokyo over 3,000 umbrellas are handed in to lost property, London underground deals with a similar problem. Our research suggests as many as one billion umbrellas are broken, lost or discarded each year worldwide. Umbrellas are just one example of an everyday product that has an important utility and value, but is flawed. It solves one problem but causes another. In the case of umbrellas it keeps us dry, and is portable, cheap and available on every street corner, but is made of different material types and so it’s difficult to disassemble at the end of its life, which makes recycling at scale difficult.

What waste (and other) materials are you using, how did you select those particular materials and how do you source them?

Both lamps are made from discarded umbrellas. We have collected these over the last few years primarily from lost properties and from city streets, bins and train stations. We also use a 3D-printed recycled plastic filament for two components and several metal components that are made from recycled materials.

When did you first become interested in using waste as raw material and what motivated this decision?

The design potential of using waste has interested me since higher education, however, the first real exposure I had to the environmental impact of how we were dealing (or not dealing) with waste was when I was a junior technician at an environmental engineering consultancy. I saw how landfills were designed firsthand and even had the opportunity to see one being built. Landfills were recognized even by the landfill designers at the time to be a poor solution with many issues e.g., the plastic membranes often split or ripped leaking the toxic water (leachate) that had percolated through the waste over time and into the soil and worryingly possibly into the groundwater. To see these vast cavernous sites being built, often in areas of countryside, just felt wrong and you could really see the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality we have associated with waste. The new items we purchase are made of the exact same materials we were throwing away; I have always believed that it’s our perception of what we deem as waste that needs to change. If you view any perceived waste item by its material type and form as opposed to its original utility and the stigma associated with something old or used, then it’s free to take on a new role. It’s down to us as designers to unlock this potential.

What processes do the materials have to undergo to become the finished product?

The umbrellas have to be disassembled into their individual component types and, in some cases, cleaned and repaired. The 3D-printed parts also need to be cleaned and finished. Then both lamps are primarily made through a process of assembly as opposed to manufacturing. This is also more energy-efficient.

What happens to your products at the end of their life – can they go back into the circular economy?

I encourage each customer to return our products at end of life via our Take Back scheme. We will happily take back any of the products produced at our workshop. These will be disassembled and reused as the basis for new designs or as a last resort disassembled for recycling. Having these products returned really is of great value to us. Both lamp designs are easy to disassemble, which allows us to recapture their material value very quickly.

How did you feel the first time you saw the transformation from waste material to product/prototype?

It really does feel like a kind of alchemy when you get it right. My objective Is to produce beautiful products from waste streams that at first, or even second, sight have no reference to their original purpose and utility. I know my work is done when someone suddenly realizes that what they are looking at is not what they thought, and yet it was there in front of them the whole time. To provide that surprise and joy is the best feeling.

How have people reacted to this project?

It’s been really positive so far. I think people are genuinely surprised that you can create something that looks beautiful from something that is not considered so. I’ve been particularly pleased with receiving great responses from fellow designers and sustainable designers.

How do you feel opinions towards waste as a raw material are changing?

I believe people are now more accepting of recycling and products made from recycled materials and in many cases, there’s now a demand for these. Upcycled products, however, are sometimes devalued in what people might pay for them due to the monetary tag associated with their previous life. That’s interesting because, in my opinion, the creative innovation to successfully develop an upcycled product (particularly at volume) is far more challenging, and ultimately more impressive, from both the point of view of the creative process and the end product point.

What do you think the future holds for waste as a raw material?

Ultimately, we should get to a stage where we do not see waste as rubbish. I believe circular economy principles will be the panacea to the fear and hurt we are feeling more strongly than ever towards the damage to the planet. Politicians, businesses, designers, and individuals will genuinely want to change the way we live, you can see the younger generation are already asking all the right questions and have the hunger to find the answers. Upcycling, in the sense of taking a linear lifecycle product and transforming it into a circular lifecycle product, can be a stop-gap to buy us more time until we are designing with circular principles ingrained into everything we manufacture from the outset. Developing biomimicry and biological fabrication where we can grow our products and they can safely return to the earth without the need for retrieval systems is a really exciting future. Although there is incredible progress in this area, we are, realistically, many decades from this becoming mainstream, and therefore the role of upcycling is critical to providing the time to achieve that transition.

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miisoodoll · 3 years

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What Are Sexual Masquerades?

What are sexual masquerades? It's humans main event when they search for a forthcoming accomplice for sexual contribution. In contrast to individuals, creatures show expound moves, aerobatic flying, sounds, and compound signs. Nonetheless, people additionally utilize comparable customs when wanting to draw in an accomplice.

Ladies have methods of conveying messages to a male she ends up pulled in to, like a grin, a short look big booty sex doll and afterward she may turn away. However, seconds after the fact she'll glance back at the man. From the grin to the look, most men can translate the code and gets the message. Men, likewise, have singular stances. Numerous men show overwhelming and emphatic signs when they remain with their shoulders back and chest out. This position connotes certainty and presence. Know about petite sex doll.

Individuals play out a wide range of enticing strategies. They may pick a particular seating territory, or maybe remain at the bar and look at the view. All they while, they're endeavoring to uncover and advance themselves.

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It's not difficult to see that numerous masquerades occur during fascination and beginning a relationship. We change from the regular individual, into this vivid and alluring man or lady. I question a darling or mate was obtained with no exertion by any stretch of the imagination, becausethe chase is energizing, the interest is captivating, and the catch is dangerous!

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Nearly there. It's an ideal opportunity to adorn! Which handbag, an evening sack, a grasp, pail, hand or shoulder pack would it be advisable for us to pick? Do we want to convey an alluring, sequin, calfskin, fabric, or straw sack? What's more, obviously, the wallet simply should praise the pack. Do we require a sweater, pullover, coat, coat or vest? Or then again, do we have to bring an umbrella and a waterproof shell?

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What might be said about the folks? Sure appears they make some simpler memories with their sexual veils. In any case, albeit ridiculous, society appears to acknowledge a man since he's a man! Numerous multiple occasions, men appear seeming as though they never at any point thought about shaving or brushing their hair. Also, now and then, apparently style is the keep going thing on their brains. They appear in an old pair of torn pants and a messed pullover. A few, with unwashed and untidy hair! Some wear an accessories, rings, arm bands, or earring(s), however many don't. Some toss on a coat, while others simply charge through harsh climate without an idea. They may wear loafers, tied shoes, shoes, slip-ons, boots, or tennis shoes. Essentially, men dress agreeable; it's what they like. Albeit, most men shower, shave, brush, and sprinkle on some cologne before they start their sexual disguise. Fragrance is essential to people, as well.

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Men can be clamorous, boisterous, or pugnacious. Albeit these are unfortunate characteristics, society appears to acknowledge and anticipate those activities. It's as though to say, "can't keep those rowdy boys down" offers a pardon or justification a few activities men show. Or on the other hand, could this be portrayed as a mating call?

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OK, you get the thought. The specialty of sexual disguise isn't only a painted face or the attire you wear. In case you're an innovative and creative individual, definitely, incorporate sex toys, vibrators, and dream to the experience. What's more, utilize male improvement pills when or on the off chance that you need them. Appreciate the delights and encounters holding up behind that sexual disguise!

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