#turnover calculation

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Happy National Zookeeper Week!

I’ll admit, I’m feeling a little spicy about it this year (well, every year) because zoos use the celebration for lots of positive facility PR, yet staff don’t often get the support and respect that is claimed in those posts.

So I want to share this great article written by a zoo industry consulting group last year looking at the reality of what happens when a workforce ends up conflicted between their passion (zoos and animals) and pragmatism (paying rent, existing in a capitalist society). They assessed AZA compensation rates by region against things such as a living wage and rental rates in the area. (All text formatting within quotes, such as bold and italics, is original to the article text.)

I cannot give the Canopy Group enough support for the way they framed this research:

“By observing the economics of keeper compensation, it’s no secret that keepers land on the lower end of the wage spectrum. Like all other wages and salaries, the market value of keeper compensation is driven by several economic factors – including the size of the labor pool, the rigor and danger of the work, the technical ability required, and the educational requirements. However, there is one factor that artificially lowers the market value of keeper compensation more than any other: passion.

In this article, we’ll take a look at why passion lowers the market value of animal care worker wages. More importantly, we’ll consider many factors that have emerged in recent years that are making people reevaluate the value of following their passion – a trend contributing to The Great Resignation, especially as it applies to zoos, aquariums, and similar organizations. (…)

The argument here is passion versus pragmatism: the unknown versus the sure thing. It is a decision all zookeepers and animal care technicians have made. Working with animals is immensely rewarding, but this passion is also very popular. This, historically, has meant that the keeper candidate pool is very large. Therefore, if the wage is livable and working conditions are reasonable, the pool should remain large. In a very real sense, a passion for animals drives down the market value of keeper compensation. Anyone who has been through an Economics 101 course will recognize this as a fundamental market principle: supply vs. demand.

However, many zoos and aquariums are having a more difficult time filling positions than normal and have started to see higher turnover rates in recent years. This begs the question – is the current keeper wage too low?”

Their findings?

Here’s their graph of “the median wage of keepers from organizations in different AZA-defined regions” from an AZA survey done in 2021. (Median is the type of average that looks at the middle of a data set’s range).

The median wage for AZA keepers in the South/Southeast was just over $15/hr at the low end, and the median wage for AZA keepers in the Far West / PNW was a little under $26/hr. That’s pretty dang low everywhere, especially when you factor in the increased cost of living in places like the West Coast. Also consider that looking at the median wage doesn’t mean this reflects just entry-level compensation - this data indicates the the compensation middle for all keeper positions, including people who have built their careers as keepers in those places long-term.

Then, they compared those wages to the “living wage” in each region - which they defined as “a calculation of what it takes to live in a particular area, without any other income. A living wage calculation takes into consideration how many earners are in a household, how many children are being supported, etc. The living wage includes the costs of all the basic items a household needs to be self-sufficient.”

“If you receive a wage for a job that is below the living wage, then you are essentially taking a negative net income. This is unsustainable for the long term, and essentially defines where wages start to exploit passion.”

Here’s a figure they provided using the MIT Living Wage Calculator showing the average living wage for each of the AZA regions. The chart on the left shows the living wage for a single person with no kids; the second, for two parents with two incomes and one child to support.

“By comparing the two graphs [to the earlier graph of the AZA median compensation rates], we find that median wages in the Southeast/South and Southwest regions are lower than the living wage for each household configuration in those regions. In other words, if you are a single person household or part of a two-income household raising 1 child in the South, a starting keeper salary will likely leave you with a negative net income. While many people work at this level, it increases the risk of accumulating debt, lowers a person’s ability to afford a home, set a much later retirement age, and can lead to many other negative, long-term effects.”

Big yikes, right?

Next, they looked at living wage vs. compensation for single parents.

“The single-parent living wage exceeds the average keeper wage in all AZA regions. In fact, the living wage required as a single parent is double the average AZA keeper wage in some regions.”

And then they did housing, specifically, being able to purchase a home.

“In many places, even a two-income household at an average keeper salary would not purchase a mid-level home. This means that keepers have to wait far longer than their peers to purchase a home. While paying rent in the meantime, this rent will account for a larger portion of their income than their peers. All in, these effects can set hopeful homeowners back years or decades.”

Canopy’s conclusion was something anyone involved in the field knew was coming.

“Companies like Chipotle, McDonalds, Best Buy, FedEx, Home Depot, Publix, and Walmart are all offering similar starting wages near starting keeper wages – plus many fringe benefits (like tuition reimbursement) and ample advancement opportunities. Many potential keepers in younger generations are putting their passion on the shelf so they can meet basic standard-of-living concerns.

To attract and retain quality candidates, an organization must consider the journey each new employee would have to make over their career. If the journey is fraught with massive debt, decreased disposable income, and limited career opportunities, then you are limiting your potential candidate pool to the small group of people who have decided that following their passion is worth significant lifelong financial hardship. There are many potential candidates out there willing to sacrifice and arm and leg for animals and conservation, but they wouldn’t dare jeopardize the financial future of their dependents and families.”

This is something I’ve heard about for years, and seen first hand. The low average wage at zoological facilities has been damaging their ability to hire and retain skilled staff for as long as I’ve been involved in the industry. I know so many zookeepers who still have roommates into their 30’s, or work multiple jobs, just to be able to make ends meet.

There’s a mythology about zookeeping jobs, a narrative that seeps into the field and actively exploits people’s passion for the job: it tells people that they’re so lucky to be able to work with these rare and cool animals; that they’re greedy and ungrateful when they ask for more compensation because they’re privileged to get to have the job at all. It says that most people would give anything to have these opportunities, so current zookeepers are interchangable and easily replaceable. Ask for too much? Push for a living wage? There’s always someone willing to take your spot. Not all facilities perpetuate this mentality - some places do treat their staff well without intentionally manipulating them to stay them in unsustainable jobs, and there can be legitimate financial reasons that limit staff compensation (mostly at smaller facilities, afaik) - but it’s a reality in the field.

For a long time, this type of mentality towards staff was sustainable. There really were always more people wanting to work in the field. But now, after three years of pandemic stressors and inflation, it’s starting to be a problem. A lot of staff left during the last few years, and facilities are having a really hard time hiring people and retaining them for any duration. I think a large part of that is low compensation rates. People are prioritizing long-term financial stability and recognizing when their passion is being exploited.

When I first started on tumblr back in 2011, there was a whole group of us within the United States who were baby zookeepers or volunteering as industry hopefuls. We all became friends, and I’ve stayed in touch with, or at least aware of, most of them as their careers progressed. Of the 10-15 or so people in that cohort? I can think of three who are still employed in the zoo industry. Everyone else has moved on into other fields - often with great grief over the loss - because of the extreme emotional labor, the physical exhaustion, and the lack of appropriate compensation.

But I guess that annual pizza party, being featured on social media, and maybe getting additional snacks all week makes up for it all?

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Meghan Markles Partner Charity Sued for Discrimination and Workplace Bullying by u/LilibuttDumbarton

Meghan Markle’s Partner Charity Sued for Discrimination and Workplace Bullying Meghan Markle's partner charity, Girls Inc., was sued for discrimination and workplace bullying. The foundation serves to empower underprivileged girls through various forms of social and educational support. Although the Worcester, Massachusetts chapter settled the case in 2023, the former POC employee, Gemelee DePasquale, alleged a toxic workplace. Claims included micromanaging based on the belief that she was a "diversity hire" and was less competent than her White predecessor. She was also screamed at for working on a project that was previously approved.An existing Change.Org petition to hold the board accountable is still active and has a list of victim testimonies. At least 30 instances of abuse by the chapter’s CEO and COO against staff and program participants are documented in detail and not only support the legal filing, but mimic Markle’s own bullying tactics. One person states:Black women and girls in this organization have been undervalued and used as props. Our images used to portray an image of Faux inclusivity.Quotes and statistics about black girls posted on the organization's social media and websites are all superficial, never really intended to be inclusive. If it wasn't related to some sort of press The CEO couldn't be bothered. The COO cruelty is calculated and intentional. I have never in my life met anybody so hellbent on being awful. She felt more like a Prison Warden than a COO. Most people's reactions to kids isn't to automatically assume the worst in them But here it is a culture.This is most especially true for the black kids.Girls Inc. Worcester is a place where bully culture and racism thrive. In no way will anyone working there or attending a program be empowered, emboldened or feel strong.The other testimony from staff and participants follow Markle's pattern of abuse: Pitting staff against each other, forcing them to take on too much work, forcing them to start their day early or end their day late, comments on physical appearance, high staff turnover, and more.The chapter CEO was forced to retire last year and the credible accusations were swept under the rug. Beyond the board reshuffling, no one was held responsible for the abuse inflicted on employees and participants. The Duchess of Sussex is a bully and this organization is the perfect fit for her. She failed to properly vet the collaborating organization and threw her weight behind them. In the past, Archewell associated with Jennifer Freed (of Aha! Santa Barbara), a child psychologist who lost her license for covering up SA, Safi Rauf (from the Human First Coalition) who misused funds intended for refugees, and Allen Onyema (Peace Air) who was indicted in the US for bank fraud, and Nigerian King Oba Abdulrasheed Adewale Akanbi, who was twice deported from the US and convicted of fraud. Petitionhttps://https://ift.tt/UBVTonZ https://ift.tt/xSJZACt testimonies archived from the petition https://ift.tt/PJQOyez settled https://ift.tt/ZszUmKv https://ift.tt/mHFfhaK about Gemelee’s complaint https://ift.tt/wzj1sIn https://ift.tt/D587IeJ CEO’s website claiming retirement after board position https://ift.tt/gL59KRi https://ift.tt/d6ATBC7 post link: https://ift.tt/r8ebLkX author: LilibuttDumbarton submitted: October 12, 2024 at 09:12AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Edward Helmore at The Guardian:

A senior official on Donald Trump’s campaign has said any appointees in a second Trump administration would need to prove “fidelity and loyalty”. The official also sought to distance the former president from Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation plan calling for a far-right federal government in the event of a Trump victory at the voting polls in November. Howard Lutnick, the chief executive officer of Wall Street firm Cantor Fitzgerald and co-chairperson of the former president’s transition team, told the Financial Times that appointees to any second Trump administration are “all going to be on the same side, and they’re all going to understand the policies, and we’re going to give people the role based on their capacity – and their fidelity and loyalty to the policy, as well as to” Trump. The comments come as the Trump team are trying to dispel concerns that a second Trump government would be as chaotic as the first, marked in part by infighting and a staff turnover calculated at 92% as of the day Joe Biden took office as president in 2021. “Those people were not pure to his vision,” Lutnick told the outlet.

It is unlikely Lutnick’s comments will calm concerns among those who believe government officials should place American democracy above Trump or any other president. Lutnick joined Trump’s transition team in August along with Linda McMahon, the head of the Small Business Association under the former president and wife of the ex-World Wrestling Entertainment boss Vince McMahon in August. He maintained that Project 2025 was “radioactive”, though its authors openly support Trump and his running mate, JD Vance. “Project 2025 is an absolute zero for the Trump-Vance transition,” the billionaire said. “You can use another term – radioactive.” Democrats have made the controversial document part of their campaign, describing it as a blueprint for a fast-tracked program to increase presidential power and “strip away our freedoms – by forcing states to report on women’s miscarriages and abortions, cutting Social Security and Medicare, and eliminating the Department of Education”.

Potential 2nd Trump Administration appointees must prove their “fidelity and loyalty” to the MAGA agenda, according to Trump Transition Team co-chair Howard Lutnick.

[doukeshi-kun]

funny how i wanted to be a novelist so badly when i was a child since i started writing at nine and now i'm in front of my laptop calculating inventory turnover. not that i hate it—i really do love math actually. i really prefer to calculate things rather than reading theories.

[somethingkindazainy]

♡ Pairing: Minho x Jisung ♤ Genre: Mafia AU, Romeo x Romeo ♢ Chapter Warnings: Graphic descriptions of Violence, foul language throughout, alcohol use, non-con(mxf) ♧ MINORS DNI

♤ ♡ TASTE Synopsis & Chapter List ♢ ♧

<< Chapter 1 - Parley ♤ ♡ ♢ ♧ Chapter 3 - Broken Compass >>

Chapter 2: The DLC

♢ ♧January - 2024♤ ♡

Minho leans against the bar, sips his water, and studies his surroundings.

The club he’s in, The DLC, has recently come up for auction, and Minho is here to assess it for potential investment. Unlike other buyers, he didn’t come here when the place was empty. It’s a nightclub, in his opinion, nightclubs are best viewed at night when it’s filled with customers. 

Assessing property is usually Seungmin's niche. Seungmin can look at things, know in his mind what it will cost to put things right, and whether it could become a viable, profitable enterprise. Seungmin would’ve visited when it was empty, a tape measure and calculator in hand and asked smart questions about turnover, footfall and margins. But Seungmin is very much a thinker, a planner, a to-do list maker. Minho is a move first, ask for forgiveness later kind of guy and doesn’t have anything except an instinctual gut feeling.

Instinctively, he feels it has potential. So far, Minho likes the location. It’s in a good area of Seoul, just south of the river and the place is heaving. The security is a little lacking, he is currently sitting at the bar with a knuckle duster in one pocket and his knife in a shoulder holster. Security would definitely need improving, but Hyunjin could easily see to that. The DJ is good, adapting his noisy music to suit the crowd. Minho would keep him on if their bid is successful, perhaps see if he’d split his time between venues. There are male and female dancers on podiums high above the dance floor, wearing little more than glitter and body paint, their gyrations keeping the crowds entertained and invigorated. He wants to keep them too. His Father will hate it. Which is another reason Minho wants it.

“Sammy! Scotch on the rocks,” a panting voice to his right says to the barman.

Minho glances at him, only a second, but within that he captures the honey colour of the young mans skin, adorned with silver jewellery, the beads of sweat on his forehead. Black hair pasted to the nape of his neck and a black silk shirt. He sees all that in one brief glance.

“Oh, hello new face,” the young man says now. A hand with several silver rings, fingers Minho’s tie. “Not the usual dress code for a night on the town.”

Minho slews his gaze over to him. The young man is facing him now, his face is sort of round, his eyes large and dark, in part because he’s wearing heavy eyeliner. Minho quite likes his smile. It’s wide and bright. 

“I’m working,” Minho says coolly. 

“Oh,” the young man lets go of his tie. “So this is very much a business not pleasure visitation? Or are you mixing the two?”

Minho sips his water, averts his gaze, “Very much business.”

The young man hums, “Well that’s a little disappointing.” He leans back against the bar, his elbow only a hair width from Minho’s own. “Now, what line of business could you possibly be in, wearing a suit to a nightclub? Don’t tell me—” he theatrically purses his lips. “Maybe you’re a talent scout for one of those big companies, out here looking for the next big thing in k-pop?” he steps in front of Minho’s eye line, and now Minho can see him in his entirety. He’s wearing a black silk shirt, tucked into black torn jeans which are in turn tucked into black almost knee high combat boots. His legs are slightly bowed and his waist is grabbable. “I could be him!”

Minho snorts.

“Judgemental,” the young man says, but he’s still smiling that smile. “I’d be an ace, just so you know.”

“Your drink, sir,” says the barman from behind Minho.

“Thanks Sammy,” the young man steps forward, steps between Minho’s legs, his hand flat against Minho’s chest and Minho is fighting to keep his breath even, but knows that his heart rate is betraying him. The young man smells of whisky and sweat and something else, not aftershave, but something that is very warm and pleasant, almost earthy.

“I’m not buying what you’re trying to sell,” Minho says into his ear and he sees the young man’s lip quirk. Probably because he knows Minho is lying. Perhaps he can sense that Minho wants him to.

“Oh, sweetheart, you couldn’t afford me if I were selling,” he pushes himself away, Minho’s tie slipping through his fingers as he drinks from his whisky glass, his throat bobbing. “And I don’t give it away either,” and he winks as he turns away, disappearing down the stairs back to the dance floor.

Minho swallows, takes a breath. Clears his throat. He feels like he’s done five rounds in the ring with Nikko. Part of him is annoyed that the young man had the audacity to touch him. The other, slightly larger part, is annoyed that he had enjoyed it. He raises his bottle to his lips, but the bottle is empty. 

“Another, sir?” The barman is good. Minho decides he’ll keep him on too.

“No thanks,” Minho stands, pulls out his wallet. “Sammy, is it?”

“Sam, sir,” the barman is close to Minho’s age. He has intricate tattoos on his forearms, a warm smile and soft brown eyes. He’s well built, muscles pulling at the seams of his shirt and a whole head taller than Minho.

“You know the gentleman that just ordered the scotch on the rocks?”

“Jisung? Yes, he’s a regular, sir. He comes here every Friday.”

“Why Friday?”

 Sam shrugs, “Probably the DJ, sir. His set is Friday. Friday’s are our most popular night.”

Minho absorbs this little tit-bit. “Would your manager be available to speak with?”

“Uh, we don’t currently have a manager, sir. Is there a problem? Perhaps I can assist?”

“No, no problem,” Minho hands Sam his business card, “I’m thinking of buying this place. I’m just wondering if there’s a reason I shouldn’t.”

Sam considers his business card for a moment. Eyes him warily.

“All confidential,” Minho assures him.

“You seem like a decent fella, so I’ll tell you why you probably want to look elsewhere,” Sam tucks the card into his pocket, leans forward on the bar. “We’ve had some trouble with the Park family. Have you heard of them?”

“I’m familiar.” There’s always a fucking catch. “What kind of trouble?”

“Drugs, mostly. They’ve been in here pushing, claiming whatever pill they have is something it’s not. We had a few OD’s last year. The owner put things in place to help prevent harm to the punters. The dancers are linked to security through ear pieces, they have a good vantage point of the surroundings, see. We have staff in the toilets now. We’re doing what we can, but I think the owner received some threats, and that’s why he’s dipping out. I don’t really know more than that.”

“Where is the current owner?”

“Last I heard, he ran off to Jeju with his family. Then this place went on the market the very next day. Wasn’t a nice way to hear you’re about to lose your job.”

“But you all stayed?”

“A few cut and run, including the managers, but I’ve been here six years. Many of the dancers too. I care about this place, and the staff. It seems unreasonable just to leave because there’s some asshats trying to ruin things. And…” he hesitates. “We’re LGBTQ+ friendly, sir.” Minho keeps his expression neutral. “There aren’t many places like this in Seoul. I don’t think many new buyers will be okay with that. The people that stayed, stayed because there isn’t anywhere safe for them to go. There isn’t anywhere else where they can be themselves.”

Minho decides he really likes Sam. It’s a gut feeling. “Thank you, Sam,” he drops some money on the bar. “Get yourself a drink.”

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t–”

“Give it to charity, if you’d feel more comfortable.”

Sam nods.

“And,” Minho drops more money on the counter. “Get a drink for Jisung.”

“Of course, sir. Shall I say it came from you?”

Discreet too. If Minho’s bid is unsuccessful, he’s finding somewhere for Sam. He’d find somewhere for all of them. “Tell him it’s from the talent scout.”

“’Talent scout’, yes, sir.”

“And Sam, if the Parks start trouble, don’t waste your time calling the police, you reach me on the number on that card.”

Sam smiles, reaches behind the bar and pulls out a baseball bat studded with nails, holds it on the counter. “I think I can handle a few thugs, but sure, if something crops up that I think we can’t handle, I’ll give you a call.”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

“You bought this place?” Seungmin is massaging his temple with his fingers. 

It's been a month since his first visit. A week since the paperwork was signed and sealed and now The DLC is officially Clowder owned. There was no auction. Minho just made an offer too good to refuse. After that, everything happened swiftly. He’s feeling really rather proud of himself. “Yes.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seungmin sighs and it’s quite amazing that his sigh is audible above the bass of the electronic music.

Minho chuckles, “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not viable,” Seungmin says. “Cosmetics alone will put this place in the red.”

“We’ll make it back,” Minho says. “Look at it! It’s popular.”

“It’s south of the river.”

“So? We’re expanding.”

“Father will hate it,” Seungmin pointedly nods at a tall male dancer with chocolate coloured skin, on a podium wearing metallic silver short shorts and angel wings. Nothing more. His female counterpart is wearing devil horns, a red thong and platform heels. Seungmin has gone a pretty shade of pink.

“He doesn’t like any of our places. And the fact this is south of the river means he’s unlikely to stop by for a visit. And there’s ten flats above this that I now own as well.”

“Well,” Seungmin considers this. “That’s good. The rent from them will keep this place afloat. What’s the return on each?”

“Nothing, the tenants all work here. Their last landlord stiffed them, so I’ve said they only have to pay their electric, water  and rates. In exchange they keep this place clean and going. It’s a win-win.”

Seungmin’s side eye is next level. “I am running out of fucks. You literally have no business sense.” Seungmin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Well, I suppose you’ve gone and done it now, so I have to come in and sort out the mess you’ve made.”

“That’s our dynamic isn’t it?” Minho signals at Sam who is hovering at the far end of the bar. “Seungmin, this is the manager, Sam. Sam, this is my brother Seungmin.”

Sam bows courteously, “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Hello,” Seungmin says soullessly.

“Sam, will you show Seungmin the books? He’ll want to see everything you have, so I’d prepare some coffee. And be candid with him. There’s no secrets when it comes to my brother. He’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to getting to the truth of things.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“Of course, sir. If it’s okay with you, I will arrange some cover for the bar and we can go to the office?”

Seungmin nods and Sam walks to the far end of the bar.

“Why’s the manager working the bar?”

“He doesn’t like being idle and he was the barman when I took over. I’m not about to argue with him.”

“You kept the original staff?”

“Yes and made Sam manager. The staff like him, and they trust him and so do I. He seems like a good man. And I’ve bought the exclusivity of the DJ. He’ll only perform at our clubs going forward. Hyunjin's coming in over the weekend to work on tightening the security.”

“This is getting worse,” Seungmin sighs and stands. “I should have brought two red pens.”

“You love it,” Minho winks at him. “I bet your nerdy little soul is getting hard just thinking about all those receipts out of order and dusty account books and—”

“I can not emphasise this enough: fuck you,” but he’s smiling. 

“—spreadsheets,” Minho groans, then laughs when Seungmin thwacks him on the shoulder.

Sam returns, he’s found a female member to cover the bar for him. “Shall we, sir?”

“Sam, every time you call me ‘sir’, I get heartburn and turn around looking for my old man. You can call me Seungmin.”

Sam smiles, “Of course. If you’d like to follow me?”

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” Seungmin says with the air of someone threatening one’s life. As he passes, he very deliberately hits Minho’s knee with his briefcase. Smirks.

Minho flips him off.

“That’s not very demure,” a familiar voice says now. 

Minho is smiling before he turns to look at him. Tonight Jisung is wearing a silk leopard print shirt over a tight black top. His waist pinched in black trousers. He’s wearing his usual combat boots. “Have you been lurking?”

“Me? No, I’ve been on the dance floor.” He looks Minho up and down, “Oh, dear, you’re still working. Do you ever get a night off?”

“I literally just clocked off for the night.”

“Hmm,” Jisung reaches over and loosens Minho’s tie. Undoes the top button of his shirt, his fingers feel warm as they brush Minho’s skin. “That’s a bit better. Now you look like someone who’s just clocked off.” He leans against the bar on one elbow. It accentuates the curve of his waist, his hip jutting out just so. He knows exactly what he’s doing and it takes an incredible amount of effort for Minho not to look. “Who was the cutey you were with?”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Maybe,” Jisung smiles, nods to the lady behind the bar, who immediately starts preparing his drink. “Are you going to drink tonight?”

“I’m driving.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know how to have fun. And you haven’t answered my question about your handsome male friend.”

“He’s my brother,” Minho says simply. “And you sound like someone who doesn’t know how to have fun without alcohol.”

“Sometimes, alcohol just makes things feel better.” Jisung looks at the glass of whisky that the bar staff has just placed in front of him. His smile has cooled, his eyes taking on a far off look. He looks kind of… sad, which doesn’t suit him. “Can I tell you a secret?” His fingers are touching Minho’s now, feather soft, ticklish touches. His finger tips are calloused, but still softer than Minho’s

Minho watches Jisung's thumb trace his scarred knuckles. Waits.

“I’m actually a very shy person in the real world.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” Minho says, allowing his fingers to trace the creases on Jisung’s palm. 

Jisung smiles at him, let’s go, starts to walk backwards, “Maybe I’ll see you on the dance floor?” and too soon he’s gone, lost in the throng of the revellers. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” the girl behind the bar says. “He didn’t take his drink.”

Minho unknots his tie, wraps it around his hand and drops it into his coat pocket. He’s warm, and he knows it has very little, if anything, to do with the temperature of the club. He walks over to the railings overlooking the dance floor. It doesn’t take him long to find Jisung in the centre, dancing with two female companions. A girl wearing a scarlet mini dress is at his front, a girl in a royal blue bodysuit is behind him, both grinding up on him. Jisung’s hands are on the girl-in-red’s thighs, the girl-in-blue is kissing his neck and he is biting his lip. As Minho watches, the girls alternate between kissing each other and kissing Jisung’s neck, their pretty little hands smoothing over Jisung's chest, his waist, his thighs. Minho feels heat rising in his chest. His knuckles whiten against the railings. And now Jisung opens his eyes and he looks directly at Minho. No, not at him, into him. Even from here, he must be able to sense Minho’s desire. Minho’s jealousy. 

Feeling hot and going dumb, Minho pushes away from the railing, walks to the exit onto the rain slicked street. Grateful for the coolness of the late night air. He turns right into the alley running alongside the club, to cut through to his car, parked a block away. It’s a habit he hasn’t broken out of since one of his brother's cars was firebombed a few years back.

“Didn’t you enjoy the show?”

Minho pauses, glances over his shoulder at Jisung who is walking towards him, looking fine despite the lip gloss staining his throat. Minho pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Not really my thing.”

“The girls, or me, or the combination?” Jisung asks teasingly. 

Minho knows he already knows the answer to that, but still makes sure to smirk at him, “All of the above.”

Jisung is very close now, he smells of warm whisky, sweat, perfume and that other smell that underlies all that. That intoxicating one. A heady, earthy smell. “Hmm, he lies too,” Jisung says, his fingers and thumb rubbing the fabric of Minho’s coat collar. “So why don’t you tell me what it is you do like?”

“I think you’re drunk,” Minho tells him.

“I assure you I’m not as drunk as I should be,” Jisung's fingers brush Minho’s belt and Minho seizes hold of his wrist, wrenches it away, which takes a lot of effort and willpower on his part. Jisung pouts and something about the look suggests to Minho that he’s someone who is used to getting what he wants. It’s wrong of him to show that. In part, because Minho finds the look a bit of a turn on, “What are you scared of?”

“I think you have that the wrong way round,” Minho leans forward, his breath warm against Jisung’s ear. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle me even on your best day.”

“You quite sure about that?” Jisung says and his lips brush the spot below Minho’s ear which is somehow directly connected to a spot behind Minho’s belly button. He’s grateful Jisung can’t see his face at this moment.

He releases Jisung, steps back, reaches into his pocket for a business card and pen. Scribbles his personal number on the back. Holds it out.

Jisung snatches the card from him, looks at it. “Lee Minho.”

“Call me when you’re not pissed, Jisung.”

He takes a moment to marvel at the look of confusion on Jisung’s face that he already knows his name, turns on his heel and walks up the alley. 

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

At his car, he pulls off his coat, lays it in the back seat. Slides in, starts the engine and sits there. Hands tight on the steering wheel as he tries not to think about his dick, which is very much still contemplating Jisung.

His head is filled with Jisung’s scent. His skin still tingles where Jisung had touched him. Jisung had been willing, and Minho had wanted so badly to do unspeakable things to him in that alley. Why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it? 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he taps the touch screen on the centre console to read the message.

Unknown Number: I am pissed, as in angry. Hence the text. J.

“Who the fuck says hence anymore?” Minho wonders aloud as he saves the number into his personal contacts under the pseudonym, Ace. He taps a quick reply.

LM: Yeah? Why’s that?

His phone rings, he answers on the car's bluetooth handsfree. “Hey Seungmin. Are you done already?”

“Hardly. I’m taking some books and a hard drive home with me.”

“You dirty boy.”

“Fuck you,” Seungmin says, but Minho can hear the amusement in his voice. Through the line he can hear the bass of the music. Can imagine he’s still sitting in the back office of the club, arms deep in a bag of receipts.

“How’d you get on?”

“We might have a bit of a problem.”

“With Sam?”

“No, you’re right about him, decent bloke. I met a few of the staff and they all respect him. Sam already had the books and all that organised after you made him manager. Took him a week to sort through. Apparently the other managers were a bit nonchalant about bookkeeping. But Sam seems to know what he’s doing.”

“Oh, lord, did I find your ideal? Can I be the best man at your wedding?”

“If I ever get married, you won’t be invited.”

“But I already have the perfect calculator picked out.”

“Min, can you stop pissing about and listen to me for a second? The problem is the Parks.”

“Yeah, Sam mentioned the drug problem last year, but it seems like that’s died off since they put new measures in place.”

“Yeah, well, there might be a reason for that. It looks like the previous owner was syphoning off some of the profits and paying them off.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Minho slaps the steering wheel. “You are kidding me?”

His phone buzzes and a new message flashes on the console. 

Ace: you got me all horny and left me.

“No. It’s the only thing Sam and I can come up with. Every week, until the place went up for auction, there’s been a cash payment. No name, no reference, just a circle. It’s not a small number either. Sam reckons it’s started at about fifteen percent of the weekly intake, but it’s been steadily increasing. I haven’t looked at the numbers too closely, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think Sam’s wrong. The most recent payments sit at about forty percent. The only time it differentiates is if there’s a missed payment. The following payment almost triples.”

“Late payment fee,” Minho is staring at the ceiling of his car, cursing the Parks, the higher powers and himself. 

“Looks like it. And that’s before rates and wages and stock— ”

“— fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin sighs. Minho realises that Seungmin sighs a lot when Minho’s involved. “It’s not good.”

“Protection money?” no wonder why the previous owner practically bit his hand off on the first offer. Minho considers ways he can find him, maybe make him see the errors of his ways…

Ace: I’m adding tease to the list of your qualities.

“That’s what we think. Sam reckons the start of the payments tally about the time the problems with the violence and the drugs seemed to have faded out. Which he’d always thought was a bit odd, but he didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes and whenever he asked about it, he was fobbed off. It’s one of the first things he spotted when he was trying to get the books in order for you. Apparently he tried to talk to you about it, but you said something along the lines of ‘I’m not interested in the accounting side of things’.”

“He told you that, huh?”

“No. He didn’t say a thing. I filled in his discreet silence with words I can hear you saying.”

Seungmin; forever the smartest. What a pain in the arse. 

“I think that’s a form of entrapment.”

“I think you need to look before you leap next time,” Seungmin says. “So far there are five weeks unpaid, so there’s trouble round the corner. At least you bought it under the family name, it might make them hesitate to do anything stupid.”

“Ah, well… the thing about that is—”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It was quicker doing it directly, through my own solicitor. I figured I’d transfer it to the family once things were up and running—”

“So the club isn’t even under the protection of the family banner? You do know you’ve fucked up, don’t you? That you’ve made a big fucking mistake?”

“Yeah, Seungmo, you don’t need to tell me—” 

“—huge, colossal, major–”

“– I said you don’t need to tell me,” Minho sighs. When the fuck did he start making mistakes like this? He’d always trusted his gut, and now… “Well this is fucking great. Make sure Hyunjin gets there first thing tomorrow. I really want the security on that place reviewed.”

“I already messaged him and gave his number to Sam. He’ll be there before ten tomorrow. I’ll see if we can speed up the transfer to the family. Which means Father will have to get involved.”

“Great. I’ll look forward to that bollocking.”

“Sucks to be you. And somewhere in between all that I’ll dig into the rest of the accounts over the weekend, see if there's an indication of where the payments went.”

“Yeah, well, use protection.”

“Fuck you,” Seungmin says and ends the call.

Minho stares at the hood of his car for several moments. Lifts his phone from his pocket, rereads the messages from Jisung, taps out his own.

LM: You’re making a list? What you got so far?

The response swoops back almost instantly.

Ace: It’s a work in progress. So far, you’re Trouble. Capitalised.

Great, even a stranger knows what a fucking liability I am. 

Ace: I want to do terribly explicit things to you. LM: I told you, not even on your best day…

“I’d make you beg,” Jisung says as soon as Minho answers. There is the sound of traffic and voices on the other end of the line. 

“Well, ‘hello’ to you too,” Minho says in response.

Jisung hums down the phone, “I’m really not that drunk, you know.”

“Ah, but you’ve been drinking and I’d prefer you to be fully aware of what I’m doing to you in the moment.”

“I'm totally compos mentis, if that’s what you’re worried about. You could do anything you want to me without any guilt.” The traffic noise has quietened significantly, replaced by the sound of footsteps echoing off walls. The sound of raised voices in the distance. “I’d let you do anything.”

Minho leans his head back, adjusts his trousers. 

“You still there?” 

“Hmm. Keep talking.”

Even through the phone, Minho can hear the smile in his voice. Can picture it. His pretty lips. “Is it the sound of my voice you want to hear, or certain words and phrases?”

“I like the sound of your voice, but I like the things you’re saying.”

Jisung chuckles and the sound travels straight down between Minho’s thighs. “What are you doing now?”

“Sitting in my car.” Trying not to think about my dick.

“Just sitting? Don’t you have anywhere to go?” the shouts on the other end of the line are growing louder.

“I’m debating whether to come and get you.”

“Why the debate? Come and get me,” Jisung says. 

Fuck. “I’ll ruin you.”

“Is that a promise?”

 Fuck. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m east of— hang on— OI!” Jisung's sudden shout is jarring. “What the fuck? Get the fuck away—”

There’s a male voice, “Fuck off!”

A different male voice, “Mind your business!”

A female scream, which sends a cold chill down Minho’s spine. “Jisung? What the fuck’s going on? Where the fuck are you?”

“I said get the fuck away from her!” there are more shouts, the sound of scuffling, a hard crack and the line goes dead.

Minho jams the car into drive, tyres screeching as he speeds eastwards in the direction of the club, scanning alleyways and side streets as he passes, looking for any sign of Jisung and no clue about where he was or where he was headed. He stabs at the console, trying to call Jisung back, but a feminine robotic voice says: I’m sorry, but the person you are trying to call is unavailable right now. Please try again later.

“FUCK!” Minho slaps the steering wheel, and catches sight of a young woman wearing a black dress sprinting into the road in bare feet. His tyres screech and smoke as he comes to a stop, the girl’s hands flat on the bonnet of his car. Her face stained with mascara, her lip bleeding, her left eye swelling. Minho reaches over to the passenger door, pushes it open. “Get in the car!” he yells at her.

She hesitates for only a second or two, looking over her shoulder before scrambling into the passenger seat. As soon as she is in, the door barely closed, Minho is jerking the car in the direction she appeared from, his lights illuminating a long alley too narrow for his car, and towards the back, he can see the silhouettes of five figures. 

Minho drops his phone in the woman's lap, “Call the police!” he tells her as he leaps out of the car, his left hand in his pocket finds the birthday present Felix had gifted him last year; his brass knuckle duster.

He knocks the first guy out with a teeth shattering, blood splattering left hook, before the others realise he’s even there. He disarms the second one by dislocating his shoulder, then his knee for good measure. And now he sees Jisung, wide eyed and fucking furious, his lip is split and his teeth red. He’s standing on the neck of a third man, whilst punching the shit out of the fourth. Minho grabs the fourth into a headlock, digs his knee into his spine and Jisung punches him so hard Minho feels the impact in his chest as the man slumps and falls unconscious to the ground. 

Minho bends forward, hands on his knees, the adrenaline firing through his blood. Jisung walks over to the right wall, where the fifth man is cowering, face bruised and bloodied. Judging by the unnatural angle of his hand, he has a broken arm. Bracing a hand on the wall, Jisung draws his foot back like an American football player and kicks the man full in the groin. It makes Minho wince. The cowering man slides sideways and curls in on himself and Jisung lines up another kick, but Minho steps forward, drops a hand on his shoulder.

Jisung, fist clenched, whirls on him, but Minho expects it, his forearm blocking Jisung’s. “That’s enough,” Minho says. 

Jisung doesn’t look convinced, but his shoulders relax. He backs off from the man and starts scanning the floor of the alley, nudging arms and legs with the toe of his boot.

Minho looks at the carnage, “You tried to fight—” he counts quickly, “—six men? On your own?”

“I wasn’t trying, I was doing a bloody brilliant job. Ah-ha, found it,” he crouches down, lifts an object from the floor. It’s a mobile phone, he shows it to Minho, the screen is cracked. “Cunts.”

And Minho can’t help it, he laughs. 

“We should find the girl, make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s in my car, calling the police.”

“Hyung,” Jisung whines, his lips pouting, as he gestures to the bruised, bloodied and broken men at his feet. “The police? Seriously?”

Minho sees his point.

Jisung rolls his eyes, starts walking towards the car at the top of the alley, the headlights shining through his silk shirt, so from here Minho can see the silhouette of his tiny waist. Jisung raises his hands level with his shoulders, approaches the car like you would approach an injured animal. He stoops down near the passenger door, “Hi my dear, are you okay? You’re safe now.”

Her wailing is too high pitched for Minho to understand her.

Minho pulls off his knuckle duster, drops it into his trouser pocket, and starts to walk back towards the car when he almost trips over a silver shoe. He figures it belongs to the woman in the car, looks for the other one, finds it a few feet away and a small black purse with a chain link handle. When he reaches the car, the passenger door is open and the girl is leaning against Jisung sobbing against his shoulder as Jisung strokes her long black hair and makes soft soothing noises against the top of her head. Minho passes Jisung the shoes and the bag, reaches into his back seat and pulls out his coat, “Here,” he says, as he drapes it over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” her tiny voice says, as she sniffles. The entirety of the left side of her face is purpling and swollen. Her tiny legs are cut and bruised and there are notable bruises on her arms that look like hand marks. Minho feels sick and angry and he really hopes that he and Jisung have succeeded in killing one or two of those cunts. His urge to go back down into the alley to ensure they had been successful is cut off by the sound of sirens in the distance.

“My dear,” Jisung says gently. Cupping the girls head and looking her in the eye that hasn’t swollen shut. “I am so so sorry, but we can’t be here when the police come. You understand that, don’t you?”

The girl sniffs, takes a shaky breath and nods. She steps out of the car and Jisung supports her and helps her sit on the pavement. She tries to take the coat off her shoulders, “No,” Minho says as gently as he can. “You keep hold of that.”

Her smile is wan as she nods and pulls his coat tighter around her shoulders. 

Minho scans the area, the sirens drawing closer. “See that broken lamppost over there?” he points at a side street across the road. “We’ll be right there. We won’t go anywhere until we know you’re safe.”

The girl nods again and Jisung smiles warmly up at Minho.

Minho gets into the car, reverses it a few feet with the passenger door still open, lifts his phone off the passenger seat and waits for Jisung who is still speaking to the girl. Stroking her hair gently. The sirens are uncomfortably close now, Minho can make out the lights reflecting off buildings in the distance.

Finally, Jisung jogs over to the car, slips in and pulls the door closed. His eyes never leave the girl as Minho pulls alongside the side street, reverses into it to stop under the broken streetlight, just as he promised her. He kills the engine, blanketing them in darkness. 

A police car arrives first, a female officer sits on the pavement with the girl and holds her as she sobs and her colleague, flashlight and gun drawn, enters the alley. He returns a minute later, speaking into his radio and they are clearly asking the girl what happened and she is pointing the opposite direction to where Minho’s car is sitting. 

“Good girl,” Jisung says quietly.

Another police car arrives and the male colleague of the female officer points in the direction the girl had. Sirens wailing, the second car tears off in that direction. Now, an ambulance arrives, and the female officer, with support from a paramedic, help her into the back of it, and now the girl looks at them, smiles feebly and waves and Minho can breathe again, knowing that she is now safe.

“Did they…” he can’t bring himself to finish the question.

“No, I came across them before they…” Jisung can’t bring himself to finish the answer.

They remain in the car, watching from a comfortable distance as more police cars and ambulances arrive. They can hear the groans and moans of the men as they are loaded onto stretchers. It appears to Minho that the paramedics, especially the female ones, aren’t too worried about giving them pain meds or being gentle with them. Each ambulance departs carrying one patient and one police officer.

Jisung looks down at his hands. Blood is crusted on his skin, his knuckles torn to shreds. He looks at his shirt, blood spatter joining the leopard print spots. “I really liked this shirt,” he sighs.

Smiling, Minho starts the engine, pulls out of the side street slowly, wary that there may be officers still in the vicinity. 

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

“I’m really not in the mood.”

“Neither am I. But you look like you could do with something to eat. Maybe a shower?”

“Hmm,” Jisung leans his head against the passenger window. “I am hungry.”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

♢ ♧ If you made it this far, thank you for your support! ♤ ♡ please consider leaving a comment, like or reblog ♤ ♡ ©2024Intrikatie ♢ Ao3 ♧ Quotev ♤ Wattpad ♡

TASTE M.List & Sypnosis

Chapter 1 - Parley

Chapter 3 - Broken Compass

[endreal]

Rules: Tag (10) people who you want to get to know better.

Thank you for tagging me @firstruleofmethclub!

Relationship Status: polyamorous and comically prone to long-distance crushes. I apologise to, like, half of my mutuals in advance

Favorite Colour: iridesecne, but I usually say green cos it's easier to spell. 🤦🏼

Three Favorite Foods: tamales, saag paneer/palak paneer, and a good healthy hunk of cornbread with some jam and honey on it.

Song Stuck in my Head: unexpectedly, Black Velvet by Alannah Myles

Last Song I Listened to: My Favourite Chords by The Weakerthans

Last Thing I Googled: "as the crow flies distance calculator".

Time: at the moment of answering this question, 7:39am

Dream Trip: I don't really dream of travel in the way thst I did before the COVID pandemic started. These days I mostly just wish it was easier and safer to go to the people I love

Anything I Really Want Right Now: too many Big Concept answers competing to be said, so I'm going to ignore them all and instead admit that it'd be nice to have a really good apple turnover about now, or possibly a bear claw.

Obligation-free tagging: @belovedgoofball, @saint-batrick, @lesbianbajoran, @horce-divorce, @taran-wanderer, @vaguelyethereal, @jensteed, @jennhoney, @femgineerasolution, @vinegartree and shadow tagging literally everyone else who sees this and wants an excuse to play. <3

[asksuccubussides]

Logan! *pokepokepokepokepokepoke*

How old are you and how old do Succubi normally live?

Do you and P have any friends that know what yall are?

I don't think Remus is going to come to you for that pre-kill discussion. What were you wanting to say?

Do you and P have any pets?

*pokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepoke*

What's the arm scar from?

"I was born in 1624 which if my math is correct, and it is, that makes me exactly 400 years old this year" His eyebrows perked up slightly "Huh...I hadn't realised I was turning another century this year. Even numbers are pleasant"

He took a moment to smile to himself before continuing to answer.

"According to my calculations for every 100 years Succubi age about 7 years, give or take. Which makes me about 60 which I would agree is accurate. My husband is about 65. I'm not sure how many succubi reach our age, from what I know I believe most succubi move on to some other job in Hell after a certain age...or get punished...or sadly killed in some other way, there's quite a high turnover rate for that job"

Logan got distracted thinking about demon pensions for a while before getting distracted by your next question that made him look wistful.

"Friends? Not right now, we've been focusing on settling down recently. The humans who knew have died and some demons have moved. I enjoy the peace and quiet to be honest. There are only so many years of socialising that you can take especially as you get older, But I have enjoyed speaking to Remus, but don't tell him that!" He perked his eyebrow up slightly at your next question "Oh he will, I believe he will. If he doesn't that means he wasn't ready for that information and staying in ignorance is of course his choice to make. But sure you seem to be a distinguished..thing..so I can tell you. I was going to-"

"HONEY! THERE WAS A SALE AT THE SUPERMARKET!" His husband announced while bargingin in through the door "I BOUGHT CAKE!"

"We don't need cake"

"I need cake!"

Behind his husband their big hellhound came waddling in and immediately jumped up on the couch beside Logan before putting her heavy saliva dribbling head in his lap.

"Oh the person is here again, I won't disturb" Logan's husband gave him a quick kiss before motioniong for closing his own mouth and moving to the kitchen to put the cake in.

"Well that should answer your question about our pet" He put the hellhound's paw up to wave at you "This is Nico the fourth. She's a Mastiff-hound and a metaphorical slober machine. Sadly while Hellhounds do live longer dogs still have a shorter lifespan than demons. Nico the third passed some years ago but this Nico is just as lovely. She's turning 16 soon"

Nico still looked like a 3 year old dog at most. She was as huge as a regular mastiff but her hye was slightly purple and when she opened her mouth to yawn you could see she not only had abnormally large fangs but also two tongues. Her claws if extended could become several inches long.

Logan began to wave his tail back and forth which made Nico leap down on the floor to try and catch his tail. Free dog toy.

You poked Logan exactly 15 times right in the face while he sat there expressionless except for his horns turning a darker shade of blue.

At your last question Logan rolled his sleeve up and looked at the rectangular scar covering his forearm as if he hadn't thought about it in a while. In the same way Janus looked at his scars in the mirror with mild disinterest after years of seeing them. It faded into the background like a commute to work taken every day.

"Oh that....That's from a bit after me and my husband met...yes in 1645, I remember it because there was a terrible plague in Scotland were we were living that year" He looked at the scar again "To be honest I don't remember much of the event leading to the scar itself since I had an awful fever at the time but my husband was there and he's told me what happened"

"Please don't bring that up while I'm eating delicious cake. You're going to make me sick" His husband interrupted as he came back into the living room.

"Sure my love" Logan turned back to you who by now was getting chewed on by Nico "I hope that satisfied your curiosity. It was.....not unpleasant to have company"

[invisible-pink-toast]

what if 2x01 ended a little differently...

Regina’s an idiot. 

Generally she’d say she was smart. Calculating. A strategist. She’s able to play people and think twelve steps ahead. And she never lets any arduous emotions get in the way. 

Well. 

Usually. 

There are a few people that she struggles to keep those emotions in check with. She managed it with her parents, both their deaths on her hands, but they were necessary. But then there was Snow White. As much as Regina hated it, the pesky, plucky little princess had a way of getting under her skin, and there were moments where her revenge had blinded her. And then Henry. She loved her son, she’d do almost anything for him. And she’s spent so many months so desperately afraid that she would lose him. First to his own hatred of her, then later to his ridiculous, meddlesome birth mother. And in the last twenty four hours, Regina had felt a terror she’d never known, watching her baby boy lying motionless on a hospital bed. Yes, despite the rumours, Regina was not heartless. There were times she acted against her best interest, when there was something her emotions deemed more important. 

Emma Swan is not one of those more important things. 

Emma Swan has been a thorn in her side since the moment she showed up in Storybrooke. She was an annoying, immature, nosy, frustrating, self-righteous, callous bitch. And apparently a Charming too. No wonder Regina hated her (aside from the girl’s stupid decision to give up the most wonderful person Regina’s ever known only to show up ten years later to claim him like she has any right - what a completely self-centred, inexperienced, interfering hag-) 

Anyway. Regina does not care about Emma Swan. She’d actually tried to kill her yesterday. And her life would be so much simpler if she’d just made the woman eat that apple turnover in her kitchen. 

Only now is Emma Swan not only not dead but she’s the Saviour and has broken the curse. And Regina is powerless in a town full of people baying for her blood, and her son hates her, and she’s been marked for a fate worse than death. 

Regina might be the Evil Queen, but she’s never sucked anyone’s soul out. There have to be some lines. 

Her only hope to survive the wraith relied on two things: 1) Henry wanting to protect her (which means more to her then anything) and 2) a charming trio of idiots. Emma Swan in particular. Because she was the one who promised Henry she’d protect Regina. Regina, the Evil Queen, is being protected by the very Saviour whose curse-breaking is the reason she needs protection! And Regina’s magic isn’t working and she needs this stupid hat to open a portal and her arch-nemesis’ - Prince Charming and everyone’s beloved princess Snow White - were fighting off the wraith with fire. And brooms. Because Regina’s fate is only getting more ridiculous and she’s probably about to have her soul sucked out. 

But then Emma Swan grabs her arm. And Regina feels a spark. A flow of energy, of magic, right as she spins the hat. And maybe her fate isn’t over yet, because the portal opens. 

Regina can feel her own magic flowing through her, so familiar and entrancing. But her magic was blocked and the hat wasn’t working so that can only mean… 

Emma Swan is beside her, looking down at her own hands with a stunned expression. So she felt it too. 

Only when the Saviour glances up, her expression shifts to one of terror, and Regina can feel death behind her, the wraith closing in. And she’s never made up with Henry. 

In her final moment, this is what she regrets the most. Not her failed revenge plans, not the dark path her life took, but that the last time she saw her son he looked at her with disappointment and distrust and fear. She wishes she’d been a better mother. 

But there’s no cold clutch of the wraith’s claws, the pull of its powers as it sucks out a soul and drains a life. No, there’s only Emma Swan, her hands shoving Regina out of the way as the wraith flies past, a second too late, before it’s dragged into the portal. Into oblivion. Good riddance. 

(And that’s three times today the Saviour’s saved Regina’s life. Three times today Henry’s promise kept her alive.) 

The wraith wails as it’s pulled down, but then a tendril of magic flies back up. The damned creature having one final act of vengeance. Only it doesn’t grab Regina. It latches onto Emma.

Emma Swan, who is standing closest to the portal. Emma Swan, who is only standing closest to the portal because she pushed Regina out of the way and saved her life. Again. Third time today. Emma Swan, who is haughty and intrusive and broke Regina’s curse. Emma Swan, who loves Henry so deeply and purely that her true love’s kiss saved his life this very morning. Emma Swan, who doesn’t look much like a Saviour with her frightened scream as the wraith drags her down. 

And Regina does have a heart. She must, because her head was certainly not working in this moment. 

The moment where she reached out to grab Emma Swan’s hand, to try to save her. For all the good it did. 

So, yes. Regina is an idiot. The only thing it achieved was causing Regina to be sucked into the portal too.

[post-academic]

The Hamilton Project has published an illuminating interactive infographic that allows detailed exploration of the career distributions of various major graduates. In fact, researchers have found that in a diverse array of fields, a large majority of graduates do not end up working in the most common occupation in their specific major. Given that students’ post-college career paths are so difficult to predict based on their academic concentrations, it could be argued that looking at earnings by occupation or career track is perhaps more indicative than college major alone.

In addition, The New York Times also finds that any earnings advantage that STEM majors hold over humanities majors fades by age 40. There are two major reasons that contribute to this - first is that technical skills become obsolete quicker as younger graduates enter the workforce. In a recent working paper, Harvard economist David Deming calculated the change in required skills for different jobs over time. He found that “help-wanted ads for jobs like software developer and engineer were more likely to ask for skills that didn’t exist a decade earlier. And the jobs of 10 years ago often required skills that have since become obsolete.” This higher skill turnover in STEM fields is correlated with the relatively slower earnings growth of STEM graduates between graduation and age 40. Let us take the example of the closing gap between computer science majors and history majors. Deming reports that “male computer science or engineering majors roughly doubled their starting salaries by age 40, to an average of $124,458”, which is compared to social science and history majors, “who earned $131,154 – an average that is lifted, in part, by high-paying jobs in management, business and law.”

The second reason for this closing gap is that a liberal arts education fosters soft skills that don’t tend to expire, such as critical thinking, people skills, and problem-solving skills. While much more difficult to quantify and while they do not create immediate pathways to high-paying first jobs, “they have long-run value in a wide variety of careers,” especially in managerial and leadership positions. Liberal arts and humanities majors are also more likely to enter careers where midcareer salaries are the highest - including in upper management and business occupations, as well as careers that require advanced degrees such as law.

[taycpastudies]

Welcome to my work desk! I’m planning to come in an hour and a half early and stay an hour and a half late every day to get studying in, when I’m not at a client site.

I got all 3 hours in today! It’s crazy how much easier it is to focus with a routine already. I’m staying motivated! If I can do 25% of a section per day, that’ll have me in a good spot. Hopefully on the weekend or on days I work from home I can do more.

Next week I get to go to a client site! Of course as soon as I figure out a study strategy it gets thrown off, but that’s ok, I’m so excited to get out of training and into an audit room, there’s so much to learn!

I felt really good with some of the concepts I learned today, especially turnover ratios. Inventory turnover is how many times a company sells its entire stock of inventory during the year, calculated by averaging the beginning and ending inventory and dividing by cost of goods sold!

[ravenkinnie]

i think jinx still has the inner ambition inside to destroy piltover. its already implanted in her by both vi and silco, just in their own words (1. "one day, this city will respect us" 2. "we'll show them. we'll show them all). even when vi joins the enforcers, i think jinx will see vi as blinded by caitlyn and it'll futher fuel her piltover bloodthirst, out of hatred but also thinking that she will win vi back again if she makes her childhood vow to make piltover 'respect' zaun come true.

there is this one post that explains how in jinx's mind, there are forces more powerful than love and that is ambitions/ideals/dreams/etc. people can abandon their loved ones for a dream or an ideal and jinx internalized this first from her parents who could've been alive if only they chose to stay with their daughters but left them for war.

i think jinx believes vi will abandon cait no matter how much she loves her if only jinx achieves what she believes vi still desires since childhood.

and if anyone told jinx that vi may no longer has the same ambition anymore, she'll turn a blind ear and spit. because the shared dream she has with vi they vowed together on the rooftop is the one last link she shares with her sister that she's got left.

(also yes jinx at the end symbolically severs her ties with vi but lets be real she is still very much emotionally attached to her sister bcs jinx is doomed to always want what she cant have)

I do think her main drive will be to cause chaos and wreckage, whether as an emotional response or some delusional form of commemoration. I do think that this feels like an incomplete motivation though like the centre of her character HAS shifted, she's not searching for acceptance anymore and there's no one she would be seeking it out from, this aspect of her relationship with vi has already been severed and if they went back on it it would just feel redundant from a storytelling perspective. I don't think she will want to 'win vi back' or sth like that has already been the story, her desire for reconciliation and now that desire has been replaced by belief that its not possible

it's clear that it makes sense that jinxs drive will shift in the second season but what exactly it will shift to is very up in the air, like I personally don't like what you laid out here because I think that's an extremely weak drive for her character that would just keep repeating over and over themes that were already laid out and engaged with and now after a turnover of the finale it should instead push it in a new direction instead of going over the same things. christian linke said about s2 even that now that they laid out who these characters are they can start dismantling it and THATS so interesting to me, to think about how jinxs character can be dismantled

my ideal for jinx is to become a more calculated terrorist HDHDHDH she is an extremely emotionally reactive person, she internalised ideals from vi or vander or silco (probs not her parents, I think she was too young to know them like that, as people more than caregivers and what she knows of them is probably what has been passed on from vi. but in a way this id secondhand grief and their experiences of parental loss are completely different but thats a whole other thing) but it's clear these are completely secondary to her inner emotional reality - using her weapon against piltover wasn't even the main point of the dinner spectacle, her confusion about the emotional bonds in her life was. she clearly did not have a larger goal in mind for the outcome of it and she would have ran off with vi and said fuck all yall zaunites if she believed it meant vi would be forever tied to her unconditionally - but she didn't. I think moving from purely emotional landscape of her actions and motivations to one motivated by more overarching goals or beliefs too is a realistic goal and also goes beyond a mid redemption arc or going in circles over the same relationship dynamics - and it means jinx could become an actually potentially dangerous and powerful player in the power vacuum of zaun beyond just her penchant for violence - and it doesn't mean those ties she started to sever at the end of s1 are completely done because they will be running in circles in some way but if you want it to be narratively satisfying she can't be going over the same things the whole season so there will have to be progress there somewhere and I think it will end up somewhere halfway between estrangement and dependency. they will never be free from each other but they will have their own stories running parallel. I think how little jinx actually cares about the ideals she's been surrounded by will be a part of that dismantling, the reality of what a volatile substance in zauns ecosystem she is but also maybe how what she internalised more than beliefs is the notion of power

(alternatively, vi can say fuck it and let being attached to jinx forever ruin her and that's sexy too but I just don't think arcane is a story that would choose this but remember!! tragedy is always a great narrative)

[mariacallous]

If you ever had pastries at breakfast, drank soy milk, used soaps at home, or built yourself a nice flat-pack piece of furniture, you may have contributed to deforestation and climate change.

Every item has a price—but the cost isn’t felt only in our pockets. Hidden in that price is a complex chain of production, encompassing economic, social, and environmental relations that sustain livelihoods and, unfortunately, contribute to habitat destruction, deforestation, and the warming of our planet.

Approximately 4 billion hectares of forest around the world act as a carbon sink which, over the past two decades, has annually absorbed a net 7.6 billion metric tons of CO2. That’s the equivalent of 1.5 times the annual emissions of the US.

Conversely, a cleared forest becomes a carbon source. Many factors lead to forest clearing, but the root cause is economic. Farmers cut down the forest to expand their farms, support cattle grazing, harvest timber, mine minerals, and build infrastructure such as roads. Until that economic pressure goes away, the clearing may continue.

In 2024, however, we are going to see a big boost to global efforts to fight deforestation. New EU legislation will make it illegal to sell or export a range of commodities if they have been produced on deforested land. Sellers will need to identify exactly where their product originates, down to the geolocation of the plot. Penalties are harsh, including bans and fines of up to 4 percent of the offender's annual EU-wide turnover. As such, industry pushback has been strong, claiming that the costs are too high or the requirements are too onerous. Like many global frameworks, this initiative is being led by the EU, with other countries sure to follow, as the so-called Brussels Effect pressures ever more jurisdictions to adopt its methods.

The impact of these measures will only be as strong as the enforcement and, in 2024, we will see new ways of doing that digitally. At Farmerline (which I cofounded), for instance, we have been working on supply chain traceability for over a decade. We incentivize rule-following by making it beneficial.

When we digitize farmers and allow them and other stakeholders to track their products from soil to shelf, they also gain access to a suite of other products: the latest, most sustainable farming practices in their own language, access to flexible financing to fund climate-smart products such as drought-resistant seeds, solar irrigation systems and organic fertilizers, and the ability to earn more through international commodity markets.

Digitization helps build resilience and lasting wealth for the smallholders and helps save the environment. Another example is the World Economic Forum’s OneMap—an open-source privacy-preserving digital tool which helps governments use geospatial and farmer data to improve planning and decision making in agriculture and land. In India, the Data Empowerment Protection Architecture also provides a secure consent-based data-sharing framework to accelerate global financial inclusion.

In 2024 we will also see more food companies and food certification bodies leverage digital payment tools, like mobile money, to ensure farmers’ pay is not only direct and transparent, but also better if they comply with deforestation regulations.

The fight against deforestation will also be made easier by developments in hardware technology. New, lightweight drones from startups such as AirSeed can plant seeds, while further up, mini-satellites, such as those from Planet Labs, are taking millions of images per week, allowing governments and NGOs to track areas being deforested in near-real time. In Rwanda, researchers are using AI and the aerial footage captured by Planet Labs to calculate, monitor, and estimate the carbon stock of the entire country.

With these advances in software and hard-tech, in 2024, the global fight against deforestation will finally start to grow new shoots.

[greetingfromthedead]

C58: Project HUMAN

For more information on the series (tags, CW, etc) click the banner!

Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Chapter: 58/84

Words: 2.2k

Warning: This chapter handles some very dark themes including nonconsensual human experimentation, dehumanization, torture, mutilation, impregnation, and miscarriage! You'll find a chapter summary in the end.

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

September 25th, 2445

Only 32 days after the restrictions on the blood circulation were removed, Subject 0325 has shown signs of being rebuilt on a genetic level. Samples taken from the blood and vessels contain new cells that are fundamentally different from the subjects own makeup. The genetic change is very small, but still unmistakable. The new cells seem to take after the old ones; the mutations are happening very slowly. I wonder if the process can be accelerated by forcing faster turnover of cells by means of medicated tissue damage. At this point, it is too early to rush the results; we are already ahead of schedule. Subject 0325 has exceeded all expectations and my theoretical calculations.

I have not managed to find any other subjects from cold sleep who are anywhere as good as 0325, but I have started on some less compatible patients, so far with no success. 0427 and 1463 died during the first operation. 4752, 8574, 0145, and 0047 died during the mixing process at, respectively, 45%, 80%, 4%, and 15%, the Plant blood overwhelming their systems. Currently, it is unclear if the subjects or the Plants were defective. All have been disposed of.

October 15th, 2445

52 days after starting the adaptation process Subject 0325 still shows steady progress, but the changes taking effect are slow. The genetic modification and mutation processes seem to be halted by the cell turnover rate. It has become clear that intervention is necessary to get the desired results in the next two years. I will look into medicated cell destruction.

October 20th, 2445

As per my research, I have found a combination that should balance cell destruction and healing, taking into account Subject 0325's current genetic makeup and supreme health. Once the healing overtakes the poison's effectiveness, it is apparent that her body has adapted again, and I can give her a higher dose. This should not affect the Plant yet.

Chemical composition and administration documentation are attached.

You keep swiping to move from the entry to a document listing chemicals and dosages. As it doesn't say much to you, you keep swiping to find a video of you strapped to the hospital bed just as before, but now a silhouette of a man approaches with a syringe. You don't react at all; your head is turned to look at the Plant suffering in her tank beside you. The medication is administered into your arm, and the figure steps back. For a few moments, everything is still, but then your arm that was injected starts to thrash against the restraints, the struggle moving up to your shoulder and chest till your whole body crashes against the belts holding you still. The expression on your face turns to one of pain, and muffled cries escape your mouth. As the video stops, the next log is pulled up.

December 4th, 2445

They are all failures; only 0325 continues to thrive, with the rest dying either due to the Plant blood or show absolutely no sign of adaptation. But my Eve is perfect. The poison tearing her cells apart works wonders; the medication hastens the repair and regeneration of tissue; and with every new generation of cells, there are more mutations, and they are consistent. From that, I presume the DNA has a set path for adapting to the Plant cells. I had to lower the brain activity of 0325 further; she is getting stronger, and her convulsing threatens the experiment. I cannot lose her.

May 3rd, 2446

As per my last report, the Plant is nearing its end. Subject 0325 has exceeded all that I thought possible. She has developed an immunity to the medicine I administer, or it far surpasses the limitations of the Plant. Eve's cellular regeneration is faster than what comes from the medication, making me speculate it is her own power. She must have created a rip in the fabric between our realm and the Higher Plane. It is time to bring her back and continue on to the next phase.

August 14th, 2446

What a year it has been! My research has proceeded with both much more success and failure than I had anticipated. Eve is stronger than ever; she has exceeded all projections and expectations, but not a single other subject has had even close to the same success as her. Those who survive show little to no genetic change, but perhaps I am being hasty. Subject 0325 is an anomaly; I shouldn't expect the same results from others; that's not what a scientist does. It could take years for the adaptation to kick in. But until then, I have Eve.

August 30th, 2446

One month after replacing subject 0325's left lung, liver, and right kidney with ones taken from a Plant. Today's surgery was a success; thanks to her fast healing, there were no complications while taking samples of the replaced organs. The results are shocking. My theory was that subject 0325 would continue adapting with the goal of turning her DNA completely into that of a Plant, but the samples taken show that the Plant cells are adapting to the remains of her human DNA. This either means further mutation is impossible or that the optimal result is closer to human than Plant.

Her injuries heal in days, leaving no scars behind. The implications are immense; it seems her cells know what they need to be, and there is no loss of information between generations. My working theory remains that her telomers have evolved in such a way that they remain unchanged and in tact. This could mean she holds the cure for aging. I wonder what happens if her old scars are cut out; how would they heal?

March 7th, 2454

My glorious Eve, you are everything the human race should be. It has been a year since the adaptation process halted completely; no amount of cell turnover makes a difference. Today I confirmed the test results of both the right arm amputation and the left leg replacement. The healing has reached its limits; a limb can be regrown in a week, but the leg was rejected. There is evidence that subject 0325's body tried to overwrite the Plant DNA and adapt it, but it's like her system decided it was faster to build a new leg than to change the one given. Gashes to the skin and deep stab wounds to the organs heal in a matter of hours. Her pain receptors seem to be numbed too, but only to a small extent; nonetheless, her mind can take a lot more of it before passing out. This has made surgery simple; there is no need to even close the incisions, but gathering fresh samples is harder. Her regeneration seems to stem from the heart. It is unclear what the reason is; perhaps it's simply the body prioritizing what to tend to first, or the tear in the fabric of our world is tied to the heart. I am unsure yet what it could be, and to my sorrow, I have nobody to compare her to. I have decided to take a different route to project HUMAN. She is my proudest creation. I thought she would be the metaphorical Eve, the first of her kind, the first of a new breed of humans, but perhaps it is necessary to try and take a more literal approach.

Subject 0325's DNA is still very close to human, and it makes me wonder what options there are for reproduction and the results of it. Could she get impregnated by a regular, unmodified human, and would the resulting embryo in genetic makeup be closer to her or a human? Would her body make the fetus adapt to her more Plantlike nature, or perhaps would her body reject it completely and miscarry? What about Plants? Could she carry a Plant cell similar to the way Plants are cloned? And again, would she overwrite the fetus's DNA to make it something more like her or something entirely new? Going off the reports from Ship Five, the genetic makeup of an Independent born from a Plant imprinted on a human is very human, in some sense even closer to human than a Plant, yet they are Plants while 0325 is not. If a male Independent was born, would they be compatible in a biological sense, and what would the result be? A new human or an Independent, as she does have a gate, or rather a rip of herself. There are so many questions I desire answers to. But before anything else I must understand her. All these years and still, there are things I don't understand. She is captivating; she is everything.

June 18th, 2455

I have finally been able to prove what the Plant engineers have theorized for so long, and I did it with Eve's soul. After extensive nerve stimulation, the sensors detecting disturbances in the Higher Plane went off, pinging subject 0325. This means I was right; she is, in a way, a generator, except she has no control over the resources. Her energy comes straight from the Higher Plane and seeps into her, which, combined with Plant Regeneration, gives her her healing factor. All these years of tiring tests have finally yielded results! This proves everything I've worked for! I will populate the new world with creatures like her! She is beauty; the other gods have nothing on me. She is perfect!

November 11th, 2455

I'm at a crossroads, with so many things left to discover and so much still to uncover about 0325. How far can she be pushed? How much can be regenerated until she dies? Can she die? Her healing prioritizes her heart (experiment 147, performed April 2nd, 1454 attached), so what exactly is needed to regrow organs and body parts? Is it blood or nerve impulses? Or does the whole data stem from the Higher Plain? If I removed her heart, could she live? And what would regenerate? The body around the heart, or the heart in the body? If she were to burn in a hot enough fire to incinerate her body completely, could she come back? What is the smallest part she could regenerate from, and is it possible to clone her, or is the presence of the fake gate necessary?

I desire more knowledge on my creation, her limits, and her capabilities. I want to know what I created, yet I would risk killing her, and then the dreams of project HUMAN would die with her. I need to get more of her, clones, children, anything to continue, to see more, to learn more, and to experiment more.

She is no good as a living being anymore; her mind has slipped into insanity, and her memories are pulled to the other side each time her soul is dragged to the Higher Plane. She has lost herself; she is only good as a vessel now; she shall incubate new life. By the time we reach the new world, every miserable human on this ship shall be replaced by my perfect creations. I am God, and my name shall be praised as the Father of humanity.

Your trembling hands swipe away from the report to a video; you don't want to see it; you don't want to watch, but you are frozen at the sight. It's your face, but it takes a moment to realize that it's also your body. It is horrifying. In the midst of looming robotic arms and a man dressed in surgical attire is your table; your arms and legs are spread out and strapped down; your torso looks like he's performing an autopsy; you're cut open from your throat to your crotch; surgical clamps are pulling open the cavity of your body; and your organs are on display like a buffet. There are long cuts along your limbs, skin, and muscles pulled apart like an animal hide left to dry. You see your skin trying to reform over the wounds, but the robotic arms pour something on the wounds to get back to the bright red flesh. The human looms over you for a moment, scalpel at the ready, calculating the best route, and then slashes your organs, starting from the belly and moving up. The field fills with blood for a moment, but then more loud buzzing starts, and two arms stick tubes into the blood to suction it away and clear the view just in time to see the heart heal up while everything else still bled. One after another, the cuts close, radiating from the chest; the order is opposite to how the slashes were made. You look frozen as he raises the scalpel, but before he gets to cut you again, Vash pulls the tablet from your hand and throws it onto the bed out of your line of sight.

The room is deathly quiet; if you leave out the buzzing from the video, even your breathing has stopped. You just stare at your hands where the device has been. Your skin is on fire, like you're being ripped apart again. Vash pulls you into a hug, hiding your face against his chest. You are frozen and stiff. Your hands feel as cold as ice when Vash touches them. But it is silent, so very quiet in your head. From the corner of his eye, he sees the man repeating his "experiment" over and over and over again.

Chapter summary:  In this chapter it is revealed how Iris is the only successful experiment of the doctor's, nobody else survives or adapts to the Plant DNA. The logs detail the ways Iris was tortured in the name of the project. Iris' stopped adapting to the Plant matter at some point and instead forced the Plant DNA to adapt to her during an organ transplant). During the experiments the doctor wondered what would happed if he was to cut out any scar tissue. The logs skip 8 years and reveal that Iris no longer adapts Plant organs, instead rejects them and regenerates her own. Regrowing of limbs takes a week. The regeneration stems from the heart, prioritizing the wounds closer to it, but it is unclear why, perhaps the fake gate is located there. The doctor wonders what would happen if the heart is removed: would the body regenerate the heart or the heart build a new body or would the result be death? the limits of Iris' body and healing abilities is unknown. Iris was supposed to be the metaphorical Eve, but due to the other failed experiments, the doctor considers a more literal approach since Iris' DNA is close enough to human, but perhaps Plant cells or a male Independent would yield results too. The doctor is obsessed with his creation even though her conscious mind has slipped away into insanity

For more information and chapters, check out the MASTERLIST.

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →