#debts are paid and repaid

[mobblespsycho100]

thinkin abt topaz from an indigenous perspective also is SOOO

RIGHT. RIGHT 😭😭😭 SHE MAKES ME SO... AUGH

[fragmentedblade]

The more I learn about them the more I think the heliobi are in the right

[luulapants]

talking to people recently out of prison: a do-and-don't guide

Don't ask, "How was prison?" (Answer: traumatic!)

Do ask, "What are you most looking forward to doing again now that you're out?"

Don't ask, "How long were you in for?" (Answer: too long!)

Do ask, "Is there any technology or pop culture I can help catch you up on?"

Don't ask, "How are you going to avoid getting back into bad behaviors?" (Leave the paternalistic bullshit to their PO.)

Do ask, "How's your support network? Do you have people helping you adjust?"

Don't ask, "Do you have a job yet?" (Their PO is asking them ALL the time, don't worry.)

Do ask, "Are there any opportunities I should keep an ear out for and let you know about?"

Don't ask, "Do you have an ankle monitor?" (And definitely don't ask to see it - no one likes to be gawked at.)

Do ask, "Do you have parole restrictions we need to accommodate when making plans?"

Don't say, "Hey, you shouldn't be doing that - it's against your parole!" (A lot of parole restrictions are bullshit, and they are an adult who deserves agency, even the agency to take risks.)

Do ask, "Are there any bullshit parole restrictions you need help working around?"

Don't ask, "Are you an addict?" (Not everyone in prison is, and they'll tell you if they want you to know.)

Do say, "If there's stuff you might get in trouble for, like empty alcohol containers, I can throw them away at my place."

Don't say, "It's probably best if you put your whole prison life behind you and start fresh." (Just because it was traumatic doesn't mean important experiences and relationships didn't happen there.)

Do say, "If you have letters from friends on the inside that you don't want your PO to find, you can keep them at my place."

Don't say, "You paid your debt to society." (Regardless of what they may have done, harm cannot be repaid through senseless suffering.)

Do say, "You are more than the worst thing you've ever done."

Do not ever ask "What were you arrested for?"/"What did you do?"/"Were you guilty?"

People are more than the worst thing they've ever done.

[jymwahuwu]

sheep hybrid darling breast feeding jing yuan 🤤

according to search results, sheep's milk is very sweet and creamy, just right to his taste methinks <3 especially if darling is chubby? jing yuan would love to squeeze their plump body and breasts as he proceeds to give creampie!!! sorry if this is too self indulgent ;w;;

This is beyond cute!!!! I love the sheep hybrid reader<3 And there are rumors in Xianzhou that the general likes to drink Steamed Puffergoat Milk every morning😌❤️‍🔥 He probably likes your goat milk...

cw: yandere, dub-con, manipulation, lactation, chubby sheep darling

A mainly nomadic interstellar group moves to different planets frequently every year, and you are one of them. This time your temporary residence is Xianzhou Luofu, and you followed a familiar companion to this ship.

Jing Yuan didn't pay special attention. The Alliance had promised you months ago to rest and settle here temporarily, in exchange for treasure and trade… until he saw you on the street. Your ears drooped and you bent down to look at Xianzhou's souvenirs, a short, round plush tail on your butt. Some rude people comment on you. "Nice butt, lamb." "Please don't-don't say that." You could fry eggs on your cheeks, accompanied by a wagging tail and a faint bleating sound. Of course the caring Jing Yuan stepped forward and helped you get rid of the harassment from those people. You thanked him with a grateful bow.

He offers to take you away. You really believed that it was just desserts and coffee of gratitude and friendship, not noticing that it was the most famous space restaurant, and chatting with him about the beautiful scenery he had seen in the past. When it's time to check out and you're intimidated by the credit required, ask the waiter to confirm. "We just had drinks and a few desserts and we need so many credits…?" Jing Yuan paid the bill generously, but you owed him more. You offered to pay him back and split the bill, even though it would be more than your interstellar relocation fee. The caring Jing Yuan doesn't want you to feel guilty. He suggested that maybe it could be repaid in another way.

Goat milk - Goat milk? Your eyes widened innocently. "Yes." He confirmed. There are rumors in Xianzhou that General Jing Yuan has to drink Steamed Puffergoat Milk every morning. He doesn't, but he can start now. Pay back some credits, plus interest (you: interest?), goat milk is enough to pay it back, isn't it…? He did explain it more confusingly. You frantically check the deposits in the space bank. The expenses for collective relocation, no, this amount… you can't pay it back. You must pay your debt with goat's milk. You gathered up your courage and nodded. The white-haired man immediately narrowed his eyes, smiled, and patted your head. "Okay, then you can start providing goat milk at this address tomorrow."

The next day, you arrive at the address and are shocked to discover that it is the General's Mansion. Is he General Jing Yuan? You brought him a bottle of goat's milk. He shook his head. Checking the quality is a must. And the most authentic way to drink is to start from the source. "But-but!!" You were startled. Drink from the source? Milking in a tent is already awkward.

"Let's begin." Those golden eyes sparkled with sincerity. You stiffly and slowly pull up your top, releasing the fragile nipples underneath, which are swollen with white nipples. It burned with embarrassment for you to have your breasts being looked at, not to mention the fact that his thumb was circling your areola and pressing, milk running down the contours of your breasts.

"Did you forget to say something?" Under the shock of pleasure, you didn't realize that there was something sinister in that relaxed voice. What do you need to say…? You search for sentences in your mind, oh yes. "Please-please drink as much as you want and enjoy." The muffled laughter echoed in his chest. "Okay." His moist tongue licked your areola and then picked up the milk. Sweet, fragrant, and tasty. After a simple test, there was ruthless sucking and drinking, and the fragrant and smooth milk flowed tirelessly into his mouth. A burst of involuntary intense pleasure runs up your back like an electric current. You tightened your grip on his back, bleating and moaning weakly. But in exchange, Jing Yuan touched your short tail and squeezed it tightly. Smack! Smack! Smack! A few slaps on your plump butt, and a gentle squeeze on the soft flesh of your waist. You shuddered, bleated, curled your toes and tightened your waist, reaching orgasm. A burst of milk spurted out with the peak. Then you gasp, orgasm washing over your head. That's so comfortable.

"Huh? What's wrong with you?" Jing Yuan looked at you with concern and innocence. "You would have such a reaction? It seems that you are not very professional here."

You wonder what this has to do with "professionalism," but don't ask. Maybe you finally realize what's going on, and you actually sign a debt agreement over goat's milk that's unquestionably legally binding.

Jing Yuan left a kiss on your cheek. Your heart is beating fast, you are shy, flustered, scared, embarrassed…all kinds of feelings are mixed. "Looking forward to your milk tomorrow."

[layyeschips]

Debt paid (with interest!)

Danny is all about fairness and equality, and no we're not talking about gender but he stands for that too, we're talking about favours. It's a known universal law that all spirits MUST return the favour if a human happens to aid them in any way be it intentional or not. Most spirits hate giving back favours and even more love ripping off humans by granting them half-assed wishes that the human didn't even mean to wish for. Maybe it's because Danny was a human once that he tends to try and repay favours as equal as the ones he's received as possible or more. This means there's no limit to how big or small of a favour that he gives.

A child offers him some candy at the park and a few days later the mother of the child wonders just how on earth did the kid get a huge stick of cotton candy after she said no

A man fights off a bunch of drunkards who were picking on Danny who reminded him of his son and the next time he was being robbed, a brick falls out of nowhere and hits the robber in the head knocking them out cold

A homeless person who mistook him for a struggling homeless teen and shared some food despite struggling themselves finds a whole wad of vouchers they could use to get food, clothes and blankets that would last them for months

A shy closeted lesbian teenager who lends an ear and gives Danny some advice finds herself confident enough and full of courage to finally come out to her family who were accepting and still loving to her no matter who she loves

They all feel the same thing whenever a favour is repaid. Satisfaction and content, the feeling of something being complete, a contract fulfilled.

Now here comes (batsibling of your choice) or in this case Red Hood saving Danny from who knows what effectively gaining a favour from the ghost king but wait a minute this bat feels very similar to a very attractive dead-but-not-really neighbour of his. Cue Danny tying up a beat up Joker with a green ribbon and presenting him to Red Hood and the next day asking Jason out on a date.

not sure what made me come up with this scenario but something about Danny giving a beat up Joker to Jason as a courting gift has me giggling like a teenager

[thedomesticanthropologist]

What do you think the companions would ask for if Tav owed them a favor?

Oh this is fun! Let's assume it's in camp during their journey. Tav owes a companion a favor! What do they ask for? (This kind of evolved past a favor in a few idk if it counts but I tried)

Assuming no romance, relatively high approvals.

Shadowheart: Very practical, considers your favour repaid when you've performed all of her chores for her. Every day. For a week. She delivers her terms with a sweet smile, and carefully picks over your work to ensure it's up to standard. She may also plop herself down right beside you and watch you work while she lounges. Maybe makes a show of doing her nails or humming.

Wyll: "A favor? You repay me each day just by fighting at my side, friend." Takes a while to convince him you owe him anything, honestly, you'd have to work on it. If you really push it, he tells you you have to create a hero name for yourself and a catchphrase, which must be yelled out in the next battle. The Blade is always at the ready with a heroic word, and you shall be as well! He is chuckling as he suggests it, and if you look horrified, he drops the subject and claps you affectionately across the shoulder. He doesn't hold you to it. ALTERNATE ALTERNATE makes you wash his socks. They're stinky. He grins shyly about it.

Laezel: You have to spar with her. She's allowed to wake you up at any time, or jump you when you least expect it. You must always be ready and on alert. However, she knows this has humor potential, so she spends days sometimes just suddenly moving quickly in your direction only to abort the motion or do something innocuous instead. You jump out of your skin every time, fumbling what you're holding or tripping to try to get into a fighting stance. Her eyes twinkle. It's hilarious. One night she absolutely beats the shit out of you, sorry. Favor repaid.

Gale: Could go one of two ways. One: he demands first pick of the best magical loot, or, undisturbed and no-timelimit access to the next library/book room you encounter. No complaining allowed. Or! He's so excited to have a partner to play lanceboard with. If you don't know how, he teaches you. You must try to beat him as best you can. He absolutely destroys you and makes a big show about it, peacocking around. Then challenges you again. Gives you solid advice on how to do better next time.

Karlach: If she can touch again, she asks for shoulder rubs. Then arm, neck, back, feet, hands. You rub until you cramp up. Then she asks you to brush her hair. She's grinning like a loon and happy as a clam. If she can't touch, she considers the favor repaid when you pull a funny prank on someone else in camp. Whether it fails or not doesn't matter, she just wants to witness it so she can have a good laugh.

Halsin: "There is nothing you could owe me that would take a dent out of the debt I owe you, my friend." Refuses outright that you could ever owe him anything. Won't budge. Absolutely stubbornly will not.

Astarion: comes up with multiple suggestions, if you complete one, claims he was just talking out loud and that wasn't it OR that was just the first part, it's a multi-part favor you see, so really it will be paid back when.... and so on and so forth. Sees how much he can get away with. Alternatively: starts out with a REALLY extravagant ask and has to be whittled down to something you consider fair, whinges that he is doing YOU a favor by being gracious enough to accept the... favor... you just did him.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When you hear "fintech," think "unlicensed bank"

Tomorrow (May 2) I’ll be in Portland at the Cedar Hills Powell’s with Andy Baio for my new novel, Red Team Blues.

In theory, patents are for novel, useful inventions that aren’t obvious “to a skilled practitioner of the art.” But as computers ate our society, grifters began to receive patents for “doing something we’ve done for centuries…with a computer.” “With a computer”: those three words had the power to cloud patent examiners’ minds.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

Patent trolls — who secure “with a computer” patents and then extract ransoms from people doing normal things on threat of a lawsuit — are an underappreciated form of “tech exceptionalism.” Normally, “tech exceptionalism” refers to bros who wave away things like privacy invasions by arguing that “with a computer” makes it all different.

These tech exceptionalists are the legit face of tech exceptionalism, the Forbes 30 Under 30 set. They’re grifters, but they’re celebrated grifters. There’s a whole bottom-feeding sludge of tech exceptionalists that don’t get the same kind of attention, like patent trolls.

Oh, and the fintech industry.

As Riley Quinn says, “when you hear ‘fintech,’ think: ‘unlicensed bank.’” The majority of fintech “innovation” consists of adding “with a computer” to highly regulated activities and declaring them to be unregulated (and, in the case of crypto, unregulatable).

There are a lot of heavily regulated financial activities, like dealing in securities (something the crypto industry is definitely doing and claims it isn’t). Most people don’t buy or sell securities regularly — indeed, most Americans own little or no stocks.

But you know what regulated financial activity a lot of Americans participate in?

Going into debt.

As wages stagnate and the price of housing, medical care, childcare, transportation and education soar, Americans fund their consumption with debt. Trillions of dollars’ worth of debt. Many of us are privileged to borrow money by walking into a bank and asking for a loan, but millions of Americans are denied that genteel experience.

Instead, working Americans increasingly rely on payday lenders and other usurers who charge sky-high interest rates, on top of penalties and fees, trapping borrowers in an endless cycle of indebtedness. This is an historical sign of a civilization in decline: productive workers require loans to engage in useful activities. Normally, the activity pans out — the crop comes in, say — and the debt is repaid.

But eventually, you’ll get a bad beat. The crop fails, the workshop burns down, a pandemic shuts down production. Instead of paying off your debt, you have to roll it over. Now, you’re in an even worse situation, and the next time you catch a bad break, you go further into debt. Over time, all production comes under the control of creditors.

The historical answer to this is jubilee: a regular wiping-away of all debt. While this was often dressed up in moral language, there was an absolutely practical rationale for it. Without jubilee, eventually, all the farmers stop growing food so that they can grow ornamental flowers for their creditors’ tables. Then, as starvation sets in, civilization collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

As the debt historian Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid.” Without jubilee, indebtedness becomes a chronic and inescapable condition. As more and more creditors attach their claims to debtors’ assets, they have to compete with one another to terrorize the debtor into paying them off, first. One creditor might threaten to garnish your paycheck. Another, to repossess your car. Another, to evict you from your home. Another, to break your arm. Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid — but when you have a choice between a broken arm and stealing from your kid’s college fund or the cash-register, maybe the debt can be paid…a little. Of course, digital tools offer all kinds of exciting new tools for arm-breakers — immobilizing your car, say, or deleting the apps on your phone, starting with the ones you use most often:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Under Trump, payday lenders romped through America. A lobbyist for the payday lenders became a top Trump lawyer:

https://theintercept.com/2017/11/27/white-house-memo-justifying-cfpb-takeover-was-written-by-payday-lender-attorney/

This lobbyist then oversaw Trump’s appointment of a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau boss who deregulated payday lenders, opening the door to triple digit interest rates:

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-cfpb-payday-lenders-20180119-story.html

To justify this, the payday loan industry found corruptible academics and paid them to write papers defending payday loans as “inclusive.” These papers were secretly co-authored by payday loan industry lobbyists:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/02/25/how-payday-lending-industry-insider-tilted-academic-research-its-favor/

Of course, Trump doesn’t read academic papers, so the payday lenders also moved their annual conference to a Trump resort, writing the President a check for $1m:

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

Biden plugged many of the cracks that Trump created in the firewalls that guard against predatory lenders. Most significantly, he moved Rohit Chopra from the FTC to the CFPB, where, as director, he has overseen a determined effort to rein in the sector. As the CFPB re-establishes regulation, the fintech industry has moved in to add “with a computer” to many regulated activities and so declare them beyond regulation.

One fintech “innovation” is the creation of a “direct to consumer Earned Wage Access” product. Earned Wage Access is just a fancy term for a program some employers offer whereby workers can get paid ahead of payday for the hours they’ve already worked. The direct-to-consumer EWA offers loans without verifying that the borrower has money coming in. Companies like Earnin claim that their faux EWA services are free, but in practice, everyone who uses the service pays for the “Lightning Speed” upsell.

Of course they do. Earnin charges sky-high interest rates and twists borrowers’ arms into leaving a “tip” for the service (yes, they expect you to tip your loan-shark!). Anyone desperate enough to pay triple-digit interest rates and tip the service for originating their loan is desperate and needs to the money now:

https://prospect.org/power/05-01-2023-fintech-ewa-payday-loan-scam/

EWA annual interest rates sit around 300%. The average EWA borrower uses the service two or three times every month. EWA CEOs and lobbyists claim that they’re banking the unbanked — but the reality is that they’re acting as sticky-fingered brokers between banks and young, poor workers, marking up traditional bank services.

This fact is rarely mentioned when EWA companies lobby state legislatures seeking to be exempted from usury rules that are supposed to curb predatory lenders. In Vermont, Earnin wants an exemption from the state’s 18% interest rate cap — remember, the true APR for EWA loans is about 300%.

In Texas, payday lenders are classed as loan brokers, not loan originators and are thus able to avoid the state’s usury caps. EWAs are lobbying the Texas legislature for further exemptions from state money-transmitter and usury limit laws, principally on the strength of the “it’s different: we do it with a computer” logic.

But as Jarod Facundo writes for The American Prospect, quoting Monica Burks from the Center for Responsible Lending, a loan is a loan even if it’s with a computer: “The industry is trying to create a new definition for what a loan is in order to exempt themselves from existing consumer protection laws… When you offer someone a portion of money on the promise that they will repay it, and often that repayment will be accompanied with fees or charges or interest, that’s what a loan is.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Mountain View, Berkeley, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A stately, columnated bank building, bedecked in garish payday lender signs.]

Image: Andre Carrotflower (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:30_North_%28former_Pontiac_Commercial_%26_Savings_Bank_Building%29,_Pontiac,_Michigan_-_entrance_and_Chief_Pontiac_relief_sculpture_-_20201213.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[starry-bi-sky]

Names, Marbles, and Fae-vors - More Lore on my Changeling Danny Au

In my last post I talked about the Infinite Realms and the three different planes existing inside it - the Long Far, Home to the Ancients and Celestial Beings. The Fey Wilds, Home of the Fey and other such Mythological Constructs. And the Ghost Zone, Home to the Mortal Spirits. - as well as three of the different ways beings inside the Infinite Realms can travel between planes; the Lake Portals, the Cave Tunnels, and the Starflare Currents. The Lake Portals and the Cave Tunnels don't have an official term for them yet, but I'll come up with something :).

In this post we'll be talking about some of the abilities of the fey! Specifically the things they're most popularly known for: their name stealing and etiquette thing.

For those who are not as well-versed in Fey Lore, or need a refresher, (and because I just want to yap infodump), one of the first rules you learn when interacting with the Fey is that you never, ever, say "thank you" or "I'm sorry" to them! Which is crazy, because they're really big on etiquette and being polite to each other, which is why one of their epithets is "the Good Neighbor/s". So why should you not say two phrases most commonly used when being polite to someone?

There are two big reasons for this, and the reason I'll be focusing on for this au is because, to the Fey, saying "Thank You" is acknowledgement of a debt that's owed to them. It turns the action or gift into something transactional, and results in a verbal contract that the receiver must then repay later down the line -- and whatever point in time, and with whatever the Fey they are indebted to sees fit. Whether that be food, valuables, or your firstborn child.

The other big reason is because some Fey just think it's rude, and view "thank you" as something that dilutes their act of kindness, and/or implies that they are there to serve you. One of the best summarizations I've seen for fey is that they're bros; they're doing this because they think you're friends -- or something similar to the sort. It's deeply insulting to do all these nice things for a friend, only for that friend to reveal that they don't view you the same way at all.

It's for similar reasons that you also shouldn't say, "I'm sorry" either, except instead of repaying a gift, you are now making reparations for a wrong you have done. A misdeed must be repaid in full, now how are you going to make it up to them? And also because well, I imagine that if saying "thank you" is seen as rude, "I'm sorry" is the exact same way because it dilutes the act.

If you're in a situation where you must say "thank you" or "i'm sorry" there are ways to get around it. "I'm grateful", "you're too kind", "I apologize", or "I feel regret" are just some examples I saw used.

NOW! How is this used in my Changeling AU? The Fey work by these same rules, the only difference is that I've added a physical aspect to it! If Fey are capable of stealing the abstract and turning the incorporeal corporeal, then lets run with it!

"Thank Yous" and "I'm Sorrys" are debts, and Fey can magically bound you into a verbal contract with that alone. However, it's not uncommon -- and actually pretty standard -- for Fey to weave the excess magic of that debt into something physical. They create these delicate-looking, iridescent threads that they then weave into their hair for decoration. And in some areas of the Fey Wilds, use it as a way to show off wealth and/or their own wit.

Ever heard of Fairy Hair? Yeah, same concept.

Debt Threads, as I am temporarily calling them, are thin and airy, and not that much thicker than gossamer. Since it's a debt that is intended to eventually be paid back, it's not practical -- nor is it seen as such -- to use the threads for anything more than temporary cosmetics. As a result, they're usually used for decorating the hair, but some crafty fey use their threads to decorate other appendages, or as form of makeup. Despite their dainty appearance, the threads are actually very sturdy and can only be unweaved by the Fey that created it.

You can, technically, take back your debt thread. However, the threads are made using excess magic of the debt, and not made of the magic of the debt itself, which is why it's so thin and airy. So if you do manage to get it, congrats! All you've got is some pretty string and a pissed off feyrie whose hair you probably just yanked out.

Danny's managed to accrue a few "debts" before he realizes he's a fey, mostly from his friends and sister -- although there are a few from his parents, and some from the other student body from when he was unknowingly and instinctually doing Fey Bullshit. As a result, he starts forcing Sam and Tucker and Jazz to stop thanking him for things, and typically makes them repay him through petty, menial stuff. Like getting him food, or buying him a small but relatively inexpensive trinket he's been eyeing for a while. Never usually anything super important - it's his own way of apologizing for indebting them to him in the first place.

As for his parents... well, he'll hold onto those debts for now. Having a way to magically get them off his back with no questions asked is a boon he's pretty willing to keep close to his chest, and no amount of persuasion will convince him otherwise. Sorry Jazz, Fey side wins out on this one. As for some of the students he's got, Danny manages to psych himself up and release some of them from their contracts without repayment -- even if it makes his bones itch.

AND NOW THE NAMES! You never give a Fey your name because they say everything literally. "Can I have your name?" is a literal question -- they are asking for your name, and thus ownership over you. The other thing is that Names have power, if a fey knows your Full Name they can make you do things for them -- however it goes both ways so you could do the same thing if you learn a Fey's name.

Knowing a Name and owning a Name are two different things, with owning a Name being, naturally, more dangerous as you are basically submitting yourself to permanent indentured servitude, among other things. Knowing a Name can be risky because it results in being more susceptible to fey charms, enchantments, and requests.

But! I digress! Just like how Thank Yous and I'm Sorrys can be turned into a physical object, so can Names! This is not obligatory, nor is it recommended to do often because unlike debt threads, these can be taken back, but it happens!

Names can be trapped in these little, colorful glass-like orbs -- marbles, they're marbles/pearls. They can be trapped in what are basically magic marbles, and just like debt threads, be used for decoration. They're more versatile though, and are used for different things since unlike debt threads, the pearls are meant to be permanent! They make beautiful jewelry, since the pearls come in various different colors depending on the person it once belonged to, and the intent behind its creation.

The marbles have a hard outer shell, with the cores having a fluid, shimmery appearance. Look up liquid core dice, and Name Marbles have a similar appearance, just more... ethereal, with different shades of the same color swirling inside. Not two pearls look the same, and even ones that have similar colors or appearances have subtle differences in them that are imperceptible to the mortal eye. Some pearls look like the deepest trenches of the ocean, blacks and dark blues swirling around each other as flecks of bioluminescence float inside. While others look like a lilac winter sunset, with hand-held purples bleeding into pink and gold.

Convincing Danny to return the Names he's gotten is harder than convincing him to absolve the debts. It takes a lot more psyching up on his part to actually do it, and more verbal coaxing and negotiating on his friends' part. Because on an instinctual fey level, those names are rightfully his. For all intents and purposes, he was given those names freely and without reservation, and so to be told that he has to return what were essentially gifts to him is... deeply distressing.

Lots of cognitive dissonance there. His human-raised brain and morals know why he needs to give them back, and he feels bad for owning them. But his new changeling-baby fey-brain is deeply upset at the prospect, and is a liittle bit stronger than the once-human part of him. He rapidly becomes overwhelmed when trying to convince himself to return the Names. He does, eventually, end up doing it, but he's unwillingly upset the whole time.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Wei Wuxian is made to say the Core Transfer is a debt repaid to make Jiang Cheng leave him alone, because that is the only language that Jiang Cheng understands. He is unable himself to make it a gesture from care and love, because Jiang Cheng doesn't view Wei Wuxian being capable of that, or, views it as a way of Wei Wuxian demeaning him. He doesn't think people at their core nature can be kind or caring without stipulation or a debt to someone else. His language is rife with it as he yells at Wei Wuxian that he should be allowed to hate him despite everything and anything Wei Wuxian has done for him. And this is the same contradiction he gives Wei Wuxian thirteen years prior for continuing to protect the Wens. Protection is not worth the effort unless he is forced to acknowledge it and unable to deny what was given to him from another.

So yes the only logical route Wei Wuxian can choose is to say their debts are paid and they are done with each other. There was never equality between them because Jiang Cheng is the one to have made that barrier with consoling himself Wei Wuxian would always only be a servant under his rightful heir status, despite their talents being vastly different and couldn't overshine his ego.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Death and Gifts

Death has existed since time untold, but now with mortal friends, he has found himself in a bit of a pickle. Having been introduced to the concept of repayment, he now feels the need to return the kindness his friends have offered.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for everyone involved, Death pays his debts in full.

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Death, or rather Orion Pax, was familiar with the concept of an exchange. Shanix was traded for resources or goods, life was traded for death, and knowledge was traded for service. He knew this, but he eventually came to a rather startling realization upon going through a series of datapads on mentality.

According to what he read, relationships were also a form of exchange. In a relationship of any sort, both parties were to give and take in equal exchange. Service was to be repaid in some way, shape, or form. Emotional care was to be provided in turn, and friends were meant to create bonds through a series of debts to one another in the form of attention, time, and service. To Orion, it was a wakeup call and prompted a severe misunderstanding.

Throughout his entire stay in the mortal plane, he had been receiving the time, attention, and service of his companions. He had been unintentionally indebting himself to them, and at this point, he was swimming in things that needed to be repaid. Ratchet gave knowledge and care freely, and that needed to be repaid as soon as possible. As did Megatron's dutiful companionship. There was much to do, and so Death prepared to repay that which was owed... in his own unique way.

Ratchet was his first and oldest companion. As such, Orion began devising ways to repay him first. Ratchet made his life easier and gave him understanding, Orion could do the same in turn. Thus, over the course of a few weeks, Death began to dig into Ratchet's history, connections, and prospects. The medical student had a few... blotches in his social life that Orion frowned upon seeing. An overenthusiastic ex, a corrupt higher up refusing Ratchet the title of doctor, and a bully who harassed his friend on the daily. Death does not usually pick favorites, but when it came to his friend and his debts, he was willing to compromise.

He spent what time he could with Ratchet, trying to return the emotional support through actions. And when he wasn't otherwise engaged, he put pieces in motion. He couldn't directly do anything, not without making his siblings upset. But setting up scenarios that would lead to death were not exactly off limits. So long as he wasn't there or forcing the death to happen, he wasn't responsible. So what if that one unfortunate ex got into a bad crash? He could have avoided it if he'd tried harder and paid attention. Why should it bother Death that a corrupt doctor overdosed on recreational drugs? The mech was living on borrowed time anyway. The bully ended up being arrested? Well isn't that unfortunate.

Ratchet did not grieve much, and Death was there with him all the way. He still had debts to repay, and Ratchet was worth so much more than being a mere Doctor. Perhaps it was a bit of bias, but Orion couldn't help but pull a few strings. Sometimes the corrupt needed to fall ill to make way for those who were far more suited to the roll. If Ratchet gave Orion a few side glances after he was suddenly promoted to the role of CMO, neither of them acknowledged it.

Ratchet: That mech... did you kill him?

Orion: I am forbidden to directly intervene in the affairs of your kind.

Ratchet: Did you cause this to happen?

Orion: You have been kind to me, you have given me much. It is a debt I will repay.

Ratchet: Orion, please, you don't need to-

Orion: You are of my chosen. Your purpose far exceeds those of the lesser.

Ratchet: You aren't like this. You don't usually have an opinion on anything, at least not like this.

Orion: It was, and it is still not permitted. But I will not allow that which was offered to go unrepaid.

His debt was nowhere near paid, but Orion had little else he could do. HIs friend was soaring high, and so in a bit of desperation, he focused on the rules to see what else he could possibly effect. Direct intervention was out of the question, but perhaps he could give a gift.

It wasn't against the rules to simply remove a block within a mech.

Death smiled when Ratchet found himself with an uncanny ability to sense death before it arrived. The doctor was able to solve cases before they reached a breaking point and determine a cause of death effortlessly, seemingly without any explanation. Ratchet chalked it up to his own skill, and Death grinned as he turned to his next set of debts.

Jazz was next, but for Death, he was hard to fully place. Jazz was an odd one, and repaying debts with him would be difficult. Jazz's situation did not allow for mecha to perish unfortunately. He was in too delicate of a position for that to happen and not harm him. But Orion could give him information. That much he could do. Jazz was an agent, a spy for the Council. Death dug through every case Jazz was involved in with fanatic determination, and once he had everything prepared, he began his work.

Cold cases were suddenly given new evidence as Death searched for the dead within the Allspark and questioned them. Information Jazz could not reach was put before him on a silver platter as mecha with the details found themselves incapacitated by unfortunate accidents. Those who hunted his friend were quickly silenced, not through supernatural means, but through blackmail Orion had from the Archives. To top if all off, Death gifted his friend an ability. When Death came to fallen, they trusted him instinctually. They knew what he was. To Jazz he gave a lesser version of the same gift, merely accentuating Jazz's already powerful charisma with a touch of the calm of the void.

Jazz noticed, but he said nothing. Death merely smiled.

Megatronus was not difficult to repay. Death merely began rigging things in his favor. Well, not necessarily rigging. But the odds tipping ever so slightly in his Champion's favor were not against the rules. Who was ever going to concern themselves with a blade sliding off Megatronus's armor and shattering instead of piercing. Bad craftsmanship had its effects after all. Who would be anything except awed when old wounds healed perfectly and Megatronus returned to the arena without issue? The Champion made all sorts of money for his sponsors. His success was theirs.

Orion's siblings watched him in wrath, further tightening his reigns. But Death would not halt. He could not gift abilities as obvious as he had to Jazz and Ratchet, but it was not out of the question to give Megatronus a more intimidating aura. All it took was for Death to touch him once every few cycles, and Megatronus would carry the stench of death wherever he walked. His foes feared him, and Orion laughed lightly as he watched their terror firsthand. It was not a gift, merely his presence having its effect. His siblings could not punish him for that.

Prima: You cannot keep doing this Thirteen. You are stepping beyond your bounds.

Death: I am following the rite.

Vector: You are not. Your influence has expanded beyond the limits set in place for all Primes. Continue down this path, and we shall be forced to step in.

Death: What must I do to gain the ability to expand?

Micronus: There is no-

Onyx: Expand. Grow.

Prima: Onyx enough!

Onyx: He has the right to know. We have known since the children of Primus walked the world. To keep him in the dark is cruel.

Death: What do you know?

Onyx: The rite forbids that I speak plainly, but continue as you are, and soon enough your reach will expand. The children of Primus are eager to believe.

Death considered the words of his peers, and ultimately he elected to follow Onyx's advice. He was Death, he was allowed to act as he saw fit, at least to a degree. He would obey the rites and rules, but if the children were in danger... well, rules were made to be broken on occasion.

Soundwave was the last on his list, largely because he was Megatronus's favorite. Death looked upon him and decided against any action, instead opting to give a simple gift to repay his debts. Soundwave stalked the halls, and Death dragged him into the shadows. It was for a brief moment, but when he released the spymaster and met his gaze back in the normal plane, Soundwave shakily got to his pedes, and Death smiled again. He enjoyed smiling. Such a silly thing, but one that held so much meaning.

"This gift I have given to repay my debts. The void now knows you, it has tasted your frame. Do not linger long within its grasp, but it welcomes you, should you wish to traverse the dark paths."

He left quietly, and Soundwave for his part shook like a leaf. The work was done, and now Death had largely repaid his debts.

However if a few particularly devoted mailmecha found themselves avoiding trouble and injury with surprising grace, then who were they to judge? Death would repay his debts, regardless of the outcome.

Megatronus, Ratchet, and Jazz were all very much aware that Orion had done something to them, but by the time they came to understand their new gifts, they opted not to ask. Whatever Orion was, he was old, and he was powerful. No longer was he a spark eater in disguise or some old monster. Rather, he had to be a Quintesson or a creation of them. There was no other explanation, not unless one wanted to begin believing in fairy tales about Primes and their power.

Death, oblivious to it all, continued merrily while quite content to have finally "made things right."

[columbocorners]

THE DOMESTICATION OF OLE MUNCH IS SO FUNNY TO ME BC MAN REALLY WENT IN HERE LOOKING FOR A FIGHT BUT DOT SHOT HIM DOWN AT EVERY TURN .. I like to think maybe the way the debt is repaid in the simple fact he begins to live with them now as a sort of estranged uncle or so, simply because the debt would be paid in being like the protector he was for Irma rather than trying to insist it needs to be fulfilled

also his name being pronounced as oola moonk is funky to me

[tigers1o1]

Heart wrenching fnc au

(Fun fact it was originally an emerald duo au that i actually started writing but i dont think I’ll ever finish…. For obvious reasons)

Gillion grew up as the champion of a renowned fighting ring. He’d never really seen the outside, because all of his youngest memories were spent here, training to be able to survive in a place like this, and then eventually earning and upholding the title of Champion.

Chip is a wanderer, and a mischief maker. He knows no one and tends to keep to himself. He hears about this ring, about this undefeated champion. He also learns that they plan on executing him, because the ring has been losing popularity.

Chip decides to pay this champion a visit. He wants to know more about someone with a life both so opposite and yet so similar to his. What he finds is… well, not what he was expecting. The champion is loyal to a fault and has almost lost his humanity in his rigidity. He accepts that he will die soon. And that doesnt sit well with Chip.

So he breaks Gillion out on the day of his execution. They run, and somewhere between the ring and the town they’re running to, Gillion admits that he didnt want to die. That, to some extent, he’s grateful to Chip for saving him. And he recognizes that Chip both saved his life and gave him a better one in a single stride, and to that, he pledged to stay by Chip’s side, protecting him, until that debt is repaid.

Chip doesnt love that, more of a lone wanderer, but he lets Gillion stay. They travel together and everytime Chip offers to let Gillion be on his way, Gillion refuses. He has a debt to repay. And through this time together, Gillion learns to loosen up a but, to regain his humanity and stop being a weapon.

And bc I’m the fnc guy, they fall in love. But they dont tell each other that.

And inevitably, Gillion does save Chip’s life at some point. And they look at each other afterwards with a sort of understanding. Neither of them really want it, but Gillion’s debt has been paid, and he can leave now.

And he does, because he doesnt know that Chip would happily let him stay, if just as a friend and not as someone with a debt to pay.

But I’m a sucker snd they do end up reuniting. Maybe one of them saved the other and the debt is back on (its an excuse. They love each other and they dont want to be free if being free means being away from the other)

[muffinsin]

Could we also get a part 2 of Daniela and her saviour please? I really enjoyed their dynamic~

Of course! Glad to finally get to tend to this one! ;)

Part 1-> HERE

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Cum for me, sweet princess", you whisper, and her head spins. She blushes wildly. "Cum for me, and consider your debt repaid"

Daniela moans, and easily obeys the simple command with your next thrusts into her.

—————————————————————

Daniela whimpers when you pull out of her and she feels warm cum slap against her stomach and the underside of her breasts.

She pouts at you, gripping your face playfully as you pant.

Your cock still leaks a little bit of cum on you.

“And here I was, looking forward to feeling you nice and deep in me”, she pouts playfully, taking at you and grinding her hips down slightly.

You’re blushing, the feeling warm on your cheek. You could slap yourself for pulling out, knowing now she wouldn’t have minded. There’s nothing you would rather do than fill the beautiful woman up over and over again as though she was your personal cumdump.

A wicked smirk comes across her black painted lips.

“It seems, my saviour, you have a debt to pay off now”, she coos. You gasp as she reaches down, taking your wet cock in her hand and jerking you off slowly.

How the tables have turned…

You groan, your head down back against the floor as she strokes you expertly. You’ve grown tired of your own hands on you, and eagerly embrace the feeling of her softer ones.

Daniela grins, teeth flashing for a mere moment before an idea comes to her mind.

You jump momentarily when she turns, her hips hovering just above your face, her tongue dragging alongside your wet cock. She hums at the taste of her cum on you.

“Make it up to me”, she coos, giggling as she shakes her hips for you. You understand immediately and grip them, lowering the auburn haired woman until her slit is close enough to taste.

Daniela moans upon feeling your lips on her, tasting, licking, sucking her clit, teeth grazing, slit teased and spread with your fingers, insides liked and tongue pushed inside.

She feels dizzy at the feeling.

You moan as you feel her large breasts against you, her lips wrapping around your cock eagerly yet again as she busies her hands with your balls.

Daniela hums as she feels you harden in her mouth again, giggling eagerly and shaking her hips yet again. She’s dripping for you.

“Goo-ood!”, she moans, hips grinding down on you as she wraps plush lips around you entirely and bobs her mouth.

The room feels warm and reeks of sex, the fireplace painting beautiful colours on both of your bodies.

Daniela hums and moans at every little taste she gets, your cock hard and warm inside her wet mouth, her cunt puffy and soft and so very drenched for you.

The pink slit and sensitive clit are not neglected by you for even a moment.

Daniela giggles breathlessly as she cups her own breasts, wrapping them around your wet cock and thrusting slowly. You groan at the new feeling. Never had that been done to you.

You feel embarrassingly close already, but want to save yourself for her cunt rather than chest.

Daniela squirms as you squeeze her hips and grope her soft skin unashamed. After all, she is your price in a way, her debt paid off and yet she is still here demanding more from you. You find her eagerness adorable.

Her nipples brush against your cock occasionally, her large breasts warm and soft around you. She squeezes them close around your cock, drool dripping from her black painted lips and to your tip.

Daniela moans when first one, then two fingers are inserted in her.

She gasps at your lips wrapping around her clit, licking and rubbing it as you rut your tongue against it gently.

Your fingers move quickly. The beauty is so soaked, you didn’t even need to wet them first for them to slide easily inside of her. She mewls when a third is added to her tight and warm cunt.

Daniela gasps on top of you, nearly clenching her thighs around your head as she feels her orgasm approaching.

“Do you like that, my sweet?”

She gasps at the nickname chosen for her. If it was a cartoon, little hearts would be decorating the air and area next to her face. Alas, she blushes wildly, moaning and whimpering, her hips shaking.

“Ye-aaes, my saviour! It fe-eels sso good!”, she praises sweetly.

Her breasts bounce up and down around your cock harder, her tongue perks out to lick your sensitive tip.

Daniela moans at the precum drooling from it, eagerly licking it up like a starved kitten might lap up milk.

You focus back on her clit, sending how close the woman is. A fairly strong hand settles on her hip as she feels your fingers curl within her, targeting her most sensitive spot yet again.

You know of her weaknesses and exploit them eagerly.

Daniela can barely take a few taunting moments of this, her head down back and hips shaking as she cums. She grinds down on you, wet cunt smearing over your tongue. It takes nearly all your self control not to cum.

She seems to pout at this, a pout that is quickly wiped off her face when she is kissed passionately. Daniela hums upon tasting herself on your lips and tongue.

“Mhmm, I’ve decided to save myself for a very special place in you”, you coo. She grins, legs spreading eagerly already as she sits on top of your lap, middle and index finger spreading her soaked, pink and puffy pussy lips for you.

The sight must be the most erotic one you have ever seen.

“Not this way, sweetheart”

Daniela whimpers at the petname, feeling herself fall even harder for you, her darling saviour. She wouldn’t be able to pass up on the idea to bring you with the castle after having fun together.

The redhead gasps when you get up and pull her by her lips, boldly pushing her over the table in the far corner of the room.

You adjust her hips and legs, until the submitting woman sticks her behind out for you and keeps her legs spread wide. Your cock ached at the sight.

“Mhmmm, inside!”, Daniela whines impatiently when you pat her soaked cunt teasingly.

“Quit the teasing!”, she pouts angrily, her hips shaking as you merely push your tip against her inner thigh. You tsk at this. She gasps when her cheek is cupped from behind her, then her jaw.

You use your hold on her to turn her head sideways, just enough for her to see you when you lean in.

“Don’t be a brat now, my beauty. I’d hate to have to punish you instead of filling you up. You know only good girls receive cum inside of them, don’t you?”

Daniela groans, feeling even wetter at your words. She blushes. She supposes you’re right…yet she can’t help but want to brat a little, just to see whether you’re capable of putting her in her place, or whether you will crumble.

She settles on behaving, then. There is plenty time to test her never lover at the castle, after all.

She gasps again when you merely thrust between her pussy lips, as if testing her. She whimpers, but doesn’t demand you to move, even tries her best to be patient.

You’re pleased with this. It was a lot easier than you had expected. You don’t know much of the Dimitrescu family, but figured living in a castle and dressing in such fine clothes must make the auburn haired woman at the very least a little entitled and bratty.

You’re about to find out another time.

For now, Daniela moans and grips the table tightly as she feels you push inside of her again.

She groans as you start thrusting hard from the get go. You’re eager to get off, your cock hard and aching to cum. You close your eyes, already feeling closer at the mere thought of shooting your sperm inside the beauty.

For a moment, you worry.

What if this mindless moment somehow turns into more? What if you dare accidentally impregnate the young woman? Would you face the wrath of the mighty Alcina Dimitrescu?

When your submissive’s cunt squeezes your cock tight, these worries fade easily.

“Beautiful”, you whisper instead, hands set on Daniela’s hips. She feels you thrust so far inside due to the new angle.

Her eyes are crossed, her brows furrowed and her nails dug into your table at the pleasure she’s receiving in her sensitive pussy. It seems, you’re going to grant her a fast orgasm after her previous one mere minutes ago.

She feels utterly at loss of what to say, a moaning and blushing mess beneath you as you praise her and use her warm cunt.

“You’re perfect”

Daniela whimpers. She’s so close.

You, however, are too. You want her to beg for it now, to have your cum inside of her warm pussy. “Beg for me, my sweet dear. Beg for me to repay my debt and fill your little womb”

The redhead gasps at your words, excited. Maidens never dared be this vulgar with her, she loved it endlessly.

“Please, love!”

That isn’t nearly enough for you. She gasps when you slap her ass, making it jiggle against your hips.

“Please fill me! Please, I beg of you! I need it inside of me, I want to feel it deep in me, my love!”, she begs sweetly, and desperately. She’s so close.

“Good girl”, you coo. “Then take it all”

[writeroutoftime]

hey! can I request sam winchester x demon!reader where their love is forbidden, but he just can stay away from her and realizes he's fallen and hard for her 🥺

pairing: sam winchester x demon/morally gray!reader

warnings: mentions of torture/going to hell, you are a morally gray individual (read: demon)

words: 1.3k

a/n: okay I am in love with this request, and this is what came out. there WILL be a part 2 where it actually gets more into the relationship between you and sam, but I wanted to set up the backstory to start off. please let me know what you think, and I really hope you enjoy! (also, I am SO sorry it's taken me so long to post this story)

oOoOo

Our story starts, as so many do, with once upon a time. Though, as a warning, there is no princess in this story who gets rescued by a knight in shining armor from the evil dragon that locked her away in the highest tower. There is no happily ever after as the two ride off together into the sunset.

No, this story starts with you - just a normal girl who took a wrong turn and fell in love with the wrong man. What felt like love at first sight to you was lust at first sight for him. But despite the warnings and the whispers around town, you ignored the naysayers and dedicated your life to this one man.

So much so that you would have done anything to keep him from harm's way. (Though the same could not be said about his loyalties.) And when danger came knocking on your door in the middle of the night, looking to collect their dues, you knew you had to step in.

It took endless nights of searching, but you finally found an answer that would solve all your problems. When you told him what you found, he didn't plead for you to keep yourself safe, instead he scoffed in your face and went out to lose himself in the drink - again.

More determined than ever, you found your crossroads and nearly screamed when you saw the flash of red eyes standing before you.

"Well, well. What is a pretty thing like you doing out here? It seems you may be out of your element." the demon taunted as he looked you up and down.

"I-I want to make a deal." you stuttered out. "My boyfriend, he needs help. His debts need to be repaid."

The demon merely smirked. "And why isn't he the one here begging for my help?"

"This is what you do for the people you love. Now, can you help me or not?"

"I can." he smirked. "But it's going to cost something pretty big - your soul. And in ten years I'll come to collect." he explained, no trace of humor on his features.

"Deal."

Stepping closer towards you, the demon chuckled. "Well then, let's seal this deal, sweetheart." he said and suddenly pressed his lips against yours. You could feel heat inside your chest, like your soul had been branded. "See you soon." he spoke, disappearing and leaving you alone.

The next day, everything the demon promised came to fruition. Your boyfriend's debts had been paid, and you felt it was going to be a new leaf for the two of you. But instead of eternal love and gratitude, he repaid you with sleeping through half the town and leaving you high and dry only three weeks later.

When ten years passed and you started hallucinating, you wished you could give anything to go back in time and change your fate. However, fate was not that kind, and so, you were dragged down to hell in shreds, kicking, screaming, and cursing his name the whole way down.

The decades you spent on the rack were literal torture. Just when you thought there was no other ways you could be taken apart and put back together, they managed to find a new one. Every day you were told the hell could end if you just gave in. At first, you tried to hold onto the tiny shred of humanity you had left.

But after so many decades, it just was so much easier to give in.

And, so, when you whispered a timid "yes" when asked for the nth time, it all changed for you. Whereas you used to be the one tied up and torn apart, now you got to be on the other end. Each cut and slice into a soul was like a weight off your shoulders.

You thought of the man you had given it all up for. The man who abandoned you after you sold your soul for him. The man who you were going to pay a visit to as soon as you got strong enough to get topside. After a few more decades you finally broke the surface, cracking your neck, smiling devilishly.

It didn't take long for you to find him, drunk and stumbling out of the local bar. Hiding in the shadows, you leant against the cool, rough bricks of the building, biding your time. While he fumbled with the keys to his car, you slowly stalked behind him, hovering over his shoulder until he noticed your reflection in the window.

"What the fuck?" he shouted, dropping his keys and furiously scrubbing at his face. "How much did I drink to start seeing fucking ghosts?"

"Not quite a ghost, but also not quite human." you said, flashing him your deep, black eyes.

He let out another scream and dropped to the ground, pieces of gravel sticking into his skin. As he tried to scramble away, you rolled your eyes and hauled him up by his jacket, scoffing at this pitiful excuse for a man.

"What? Didn't think you'd have to come face to face with the woman you cheated on and left high and dry after I sold my soul for you?"

"No, no. You died, got mauled by an animal or some shit."

A humorless laugh left your lips. "Is that what they called it? That's putting being dragged to hell and tortured for decades mildly." you growled. "But don't worry I pulled myself out just to see you and thank you after all this time."

Your words were punctuated with a fist to his jaw, relishing the resounding crunch that echoed into the night air. Fist after fist was thrown in his direction using every ounce of anger you ever felt towards him boiled over the surface. When you grew weary of throwing punches, you flicked your knife out, cutting into his skin regardless of his please to stop.

It wasn't long before you knelt over his crumpled body, a satisfied smirk curled on your lips. This was the moment you had long since pined over, waiting to end his miserable life, hoping his time in hell would be even worse than yours.

But something in the back of your mind wouldn't let you finish the deed. The knife in your hand clattered to the ground, unable to plunge itself deep into his chest. He laid there, a whimpering mess, as you pushed yourself out of the gravel, and smeared the blood that coated your hands across your clothing.

You thought of this moment for so long. Assumed it would bring you a sense of closure. Of vengeance. Instead, you only felt empty, confused, purposeless. Without looking back, you left him there to pull himself together - a small act of mercy.

As you roamed the empty streets, you kept thinking of what brought you to this moment in the first place. Why didn't it feel right? You knew there was no going back, this is what you were now. But maybe, just maybe you could stop what happened to you from happening to anyone else. A way to use this curse for good.

And from that moment on, you roamed the state, looking for players, cheaters, and guys who liked to manipulate those around them. You'd get wind of their deeds, pretend to fall for their charms, and then go in for the kill, offering them the same pain they caused others. You knew most people probably saw you as a criminal, but you saw yourself as a vigilante.

In fact, your little routine worked quite well for the next few months. It seemed to bring you the senses of purpose and justice you were looking for. That was, at least, until you heard through the pipeline that the Winchesters were on your trail. Shit!

oOoOo

Dun, dun duhh!! To be continued in part two, I hope you enjoyed!

[swappingbryn]

It Was Never Enough

There was no doubt, Justin had gone through drastic changes over the years. From his squeaky clean image as a barely legal new comer to the pseudo thug tough guy he is today. But few people know the (main one of many) reason for his change was actually due to his poor financial management, coupled with gambling.

Few people recognize that many of his tattoos were the result of lost bets with friends or private auctions with fans to select tattoos (with an extra premium on special places). As a way to hide those tattoos, he had to get more just to make them look normal.

As soon as his popularity skyrocketed after turning 21, as more and more money came rolling in, his spending increased, quickly outpacing his earnings. By 25, he had no choice but to churn out more music because he had taken massive advances from the studio and had to pay them back.

And his money problems only got worse when he got married. He refused to curb his spending and refused to let his wife know how bad their situation was. Despite hemorrhaging money, he still threw it around. He even chartered a plane for a week to bring them on vacation for $100,000, a two hour car ride away, when first class tickets on a commercial plane round trip would have only been $1,000 total.

Live Shows

Finally his financial manager put his foot down and made Justin cut spending slightly and find new income streams, which resulted in private live shows for high paying clients. But it was never enough. After even private shows (with increasingly provocative content) wasn’t enough, his finance manager came to him with a possible solution, renting out his body.

Justin was reluctant but gave in when he saw how much high profile people were renting for. He once again (stupidly) refused to be represented at the meeting, choosing to represent himself. He felt like he had reached an amazing deal and thought he’d be debt free in no time, not realizing how bad his situation was. This poor (obscenely wealthy) guy was paying him $100,000 per day to use his body, until Justin was debt free.

After the swap, Justin saw his body walking out of the building thinking how he’d be himself again in no time. The only problem was Justin was so in debt that even at $100,000 per day, $3,000,000 month, $36,500,000 per year, it would take at least five years to repay what was owed. His former finance manager came up to his now old, obese body and told him “I can’t believe you accepted that offer, it will take years to repay at this rate.” Justin was astounded, he fought and raged. After a month of his new prison cell of a body he even set up a meeting with the agency and demanded the swap end. They were very polite and said “of course, we can end the swap right away,” “oh thank god, when can we do this?” “Immediately sir, as soon as the payment clears, the swap will occur.” Justin was confused, “what payment?” “Sir, the contract you signed, the contract you negotiated, specified that the swap would only end when the debt was repaid. Until that time, only the new Mr. Bieber can decide to break the agreement by agreeing to accept what has been paid already as payment in full. I take it you are not ready to make payment now?” Justin was forced out of the office as he tried to fight.

Justin tried to FaceTime his body, and when it connected, he saw it was smoking a cigar. Justin started to yell again but the call disconnected. He tried to call back but was greeted by an error message. Then a call came in from an unknown number, “Hey MITCH, sorry bro, but I don’t want you calling me directly. I just blocked you from MY phone. This is a pay phone, I didn’t know these still existed haha. Don’t try to contact me until you’re ready to pay me everything you owe to swap back. I don’t have time to deal with you.” And the number disconnected.

Month after money, he watched his balance owed decline slowly. He owed so much that even the astronomical payments mostly covered interest. It took 15 years to finally be repaid. Justin’s body was not past his prime and had lost most of its earnings potential.

@mr2swap

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America

This afternoon (May 6), I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest for a 3:30PM event with Glynn Washington for my book Red Team Blues; tomorrow (May 7), it’s an 11AM event with Wendy Liu for my book Chokepoint Capitalism.

Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

The Writers Guild is on strike. Hollywood is closed for business. The union’s bargaining documents reveal a cartel of studios that refused to negotiate on a single position. This could go on for a long-ass time:

https://www.wga.org/uploadedfiles/members/member_info/contract-2023/WGA_proposals.pdf

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#union-strong

The writers are up for it. A lot of people are saying this is the first writers’ strike since 2007/8, but that’s not quite right. That was the last time the writers went on strike against the studios, but in 2019, the writers struck against their own talent agents — within the space of a week, all 7,000 writers in Hollywood fired their agents. They struck against the agencies for 22 months.

https://deadline.com/2023/04/hollywood-strike-writers-guild-studios-talent-agencies-1235333516/

The agencies had consolidated down to four major firms, two backed by private equity who loaded them up with debt that could only be repaid if the agencies figured out how to vastly increase their profits. They did so, by unilaterally switching the way they did business with their clients. Instead of taking a 10% commission on the creative wages they bargained for, the agencies started to take “packaging fees” from the studios for putting together a writer, director, stars, etc. These fees came out of the same budget that the talent got paid from, so the higher the fee was, the less the talent made. Soon, some showrunners were discovering that they were getting 10% and their agents were getting 90%!

The agencies weren’t done, either: they were building their own studios, and planning to negotiate with themselves on behalf of their clients. The writers said fuck this shit. They issued a code of conduct ordering the agencies to knock all that shit off. The agencies swore they’d never do it. Why should they? Every job these writers had ever done came through an agency, and the agencies were staffed with the toughest, most obnoxious negotiators on the planet.

They were sure the writers would cave. After all, the top tier of writers had been handled with kid gloves by the agencies and not ripped off to the same extent as their jobbing, workaday peers. They’d break solidarity and the union would collapse, right?

Wrong. Twenty-two months later, every one of the agencies caved on every single point. Bam. Union strong.

(Want to learn more? Check out Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin’s and my book about creative labor markets:)

http://chokepointcapitalism.com

Now the writers are back on strike and it’s triggered a predictable torrent of anti-worker nonsense (“striking writers will lead to public indifference to torture!) (no, really) (ugh):

https://www.readtpa.com/p/on-the-tv-writers-strike-dont-fall

One common theme in these bad takes is that writers aren’t real workers, like, you know, coal miners or Starbucks baristas. They’re coddled intellectuals, and haven’t the intelligentsia been indifferent to proletarian struggle since, you know, time immemorial?

This is wrong in every conceivable way. For starters, it’s ahistorical. Lord Byron and innumerable other toffs and poets and such were right there with the Luddites, demanding labor justice during the Industrial Revolution, as Brian Merchant writes in his outstanding, forthcoming history of the Luddites, Blood in the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/20/love-the-machine/#hate-the-factory

But you don’t have to look back to the stocking frame to find this kind of solidarity. As Hamilton Nolan writes in his newsletter, “Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America”:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-coral-reef-of-humanity-encircling

The entire Hollywood workforce, from grips to carpenters, costumers to plumbers, teamsters to medics, is unionized. That includes writers and actors (I’m a member of IATSE Local 839, AKA The Animation Guild). I live in Burbank, the entertainment industry’s company town (fun fact! The “Hollywood” studios are largely over the city line, in Burbank). Walk down Burbank Boulevard, Magnolia Boulevard, or any of the other major roads, and you’ll pass many union halls.

Burbank is a prosperous place. That’s thanks, in part, to the studios, whose entertainment products are very profitable. But working in a profitable industry is not, in and of itself, a guarantee that you will get a share of those profits. Some of the most profitable industries in the world — e-commerce, fast food, logistics — have the lowest paid workforces.

Burbank is prosperous because the unions made sure that everyone — the grips, the costumers, the animators, the actors, the writers, the teamsters and the pipefitters — gets a decent wage, decent health care and a decent retirement. My pal the set-dresser who worked crazy hours shlepping furniture around sitcom sets for decades? All that work did bad stuff to his joints, which meant that he needed a hip replacement in his forties — which was 100% covered, including his sick leave while he recovered. He was able to take early retirement in his late fifties, with a solid pension, with his health in excellent shape and many years of happiness with his partner stretching before him.

That’s what unions get you: a good job that might be hard at times, and the costs of your work are borne by the employer who profits from your labor. As Nolan writes, the point of unions is to “make sure that people! Are! Not! Disposable!”

Unions deliver the American dream. As Pete Seeger sang in “Talking Union Blues”:

Now, if you want higher wages let me tell you what to do You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you You got to build you a union, got to make it strong But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long You get shorter hours, better working conditions Vacations with pay. Take your kids to the seashore

http://www.protestsonglyrics.net/Labor_Union_Songs/Talking-Union.phtml

We tend to focus on wages in union discussions, but unions aren’t merely about getting better pay, it’s about making better jobs. When LA teachers went out on strike in 2019, wages weren’t at the top of their list — they bargained for greenspace for every school, replacing rotting portables with permanent buildings, ending ICE entrapment of parents at the school gates, social workers and counselors for schools…and wages.

I really like how Nolan puts this. The way that the studios make money has changed: streaming is clobbering ad-supported TV and movie theater tickets. The studios are adapting. The workers want to adapt, too. The studios would rather “treat[] their work force as a disposable natural resource to be mined, used up, and then abandoned, as business dictates.”

A union gives workers “the same ability to adapt to changing industries that companies already have.” The studios want to leave workers behind. Unions give workers the collective power to say, “No. You’re taking us with you.”

Union workers are wealthier than their non-union counterparts, but that’s not just because of higher wages. As Nolan writes, “Unions make sure that the people get to adapt to changing industries, and not just the investors and the business owners.”

[Union workers] have a far greater ability to build coherent, long-term careers, as opposed to a constant treadmill of unstable short-term gigs. In non-union industries, businesses can just act like ships cutting through a desperate sea of workers, scooping up whoever they want and then tossing them overboard as soon as it’s convenient. In a union industry, though, the companies are forced to deal with the labor force as an equal. The workers have their own damn boat.

Advocates for market capitalism insist that market forces increase prosperity for everyone. They say that, in the end, having corporations serve their shareholders results in corporations serving everyone.

But a comparison of unionized and nonunionized industries reveals the hollowness of that prospect. Hollywood is wildly profitable and it pays every kind of worker well. That’s because workers have solidarity across sectors and trades. Striking writers like jonrog1 are calling on supporters to donate to the Entertainment Community Fund:

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654168529728307204

The Entertainment Community Fund supports everyone else who is affected by the work-stoppage, all the other creative and craft trades whose work has been halted by the writers’ struggle. If you want to support these workers, make sure you select “Film and TV” from the drop-down menu when you donate (we gave $100):

https://entertainmentcommunity.org/

Because all the workers are in this together. As Adam Conover explains in this amazing CNN clip, David Zazlav, the head of CNN parent-company Warner-Discovery, made a quarter of a billion dollars last year, enough to pay all the demands of all the writers:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL-YwKO81go

And Carol Lombardini, spokesvillain for the studio cartel AMPTP, told the press that “”Writers are lucky to have term employment.” As John Rogers says, she “wiped out the doubt of every writer who wasn’t sure this negotiation really IS so important, that it actually IS about turning us into gig workers.”

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654506611086606336

The stakes in this strike are the same as the stakes in every strike: will workers get a fair share of the value their labor creates, or will that value be piled up in the vaults of $250,000,000/year CEOs? It’s not like the studios especially hate writers — like all corporations, they hate all their workers. The same tactics that they’re using to make it so writers can’t pay the rent today will be turned on every other kind of Hollywood worker tomorrow — and when the writers win this one, they’ll support those workers, too.

There’s a lot of concern about AI displacing creative labor, but the only entity that can take away a writer’s wage is a human being, an executive at a studio. As has been the case since the time of the Luddites, the issue isn’t what the machine does, it’s who it does it for and who it does it to.

After all, as Charlie Stross points out, a corporation is just a “Slow AI,” remorselessly paperclip-maximizing its way through the lives and joy of the flesh-and-blood people who constitute its inconvenient gut-flora:

https://media.ccc.de/v/34c3-9270-dude_you_broke_the_future#video&t=3478

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Berkeley, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: Animators walk the picket-line during the Disney Animator's Strike in 1941.]

Image: LA Times https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Screen_Cartoonist%27s_Guild_strike_at_Disney.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en