#International Business | Features | How We Live

[xtruss]

'It Hasn't Delivered': The Spectacular Failure of Self-checkout Technology

— 15th January 2024 | By Sam Becker, Features Correspondent | BBC

Self-checkout technology has grown, but not every business and consumer is happy with the investment. Credit: Alamy

Unstaffed Tills Were Supposed to Revolutionise Shopping. Now, Both Retailers and Customers are Bagging Many Self-Checkout Kiosks.

It's a common sight at many retail stores: a queue of people, waiting to use a self-checkout kiosk, doing their best to remain patient as a lone store worker attends to multiple malfunctioning machines. The frustration mounts while a dozen darkened, roped-off and cashier-less tills sit in the background.

For shoppers, self-checkout was supposed to provide convenience and speed. Retailers hoped it would usher in a new age of cost savings. Their thinking: why pay six employees when you could pay one to oversee customers at self-service registers, as they do their own labour of scanning and bagging for free?

While self-checkout technology has its theoretical selling points for both consumers and businesses, it mostly isn't living up to expectations. Customers are still queueing. They need store employees to help clear kiosk errors or check their identifications for age-restricted items. Stores still need to have workers on-hand to help them, and to service the machines.

The technology is, in some cases, more trouble than it's worth.

"It hasn't delivered anything that it promises," says Christopher Andrews, associate professor and chair of sociology at Drew University, US, and author of The Overworked Consumer: Self-Checkouts, Supermarkets, and the Do-It-Yourself Economy. "Stores saw this as the next frontier… If they could get the consumer to think that [self-checkout] was a preferable way to shop, then they could cut labour costs. But they're finding that people need help doing it, or that they'll steal stuff. They ended up realising that they're not saving money, they're losing money."

Alamy One of the frustrations of self-checkout can be the extra work of having to find a specific PLU code to ring up a purchase. Credit: Alamy

Unexpected Problems in the Bagging Area

Many retail companies have invested millions – if not billions – of dollars in self-checkout technology, which Andrews says was first developed during the 1980s, and started appearing in stores in the 1990s. They're not exactly cheap to get into stores: some experts estimate a four-kiosk system can run six figures.

Despite the cost to install them, many retailers are reversing course on the tech. Target, for instance, is restricting the number of items self-checkout customers can purchase at one time. Walmart has removed some self-checkout kiosks in certain stores to deter theft. In the UK, supermarket chain Booths has also cut down on the number of self-service kiosks in its stores, as customers say they're slow and unreliable.

Dollar General, one of the fastest-growing retailers in the US, is also re-thinking its strategy. In 2022, the discount chain leaned heavily into self-checkout technology – it's not uncommon to see only one or two employees staffing an entire Dollar General store in some areas. Despite the investment, they are now planning to increase the number of employees in stores "and in particular, the checkout area", according to the company's CEO, Todd Vasos.

"We had relied and started to rely too much this year on self-checkout in our stores," he said during the company's Q3 2023 earnings call on 7 December 2023. "We should be using self-checkout as a secondary checkout vehicle, not a primary." (Dollar General did not respond to the BBC's requests for comment).

“Some Data Shows Retailers Utilising Self-checkout Technology Have Loss Rates More Than Twice The Industry Average.”

Some retailers cite theft as a motivator for ditching the unstaffed tills. Customers may be more willing to simply swipe merchandise when using a self-service kiosk than they are when face-to-face with a human cashier. Some data shows retailers utilising self-checkout technology have loss rates more than twice the industry average.

In addition to shrink concerns, experts say another failure of self-checkout technology is that, in many cases, it simply doesn't lead to the cost savings businesses hoped for. Just as Dollar General appears poised to add more employees to its check-out areas, presumably increasing staffing costs, other companies have done the same. Despite self-checkout kiosks becoming ubiquitous throughout the past decade or so, the US still has more than 3.3 million cashiers working around the nation, according to data from the US Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Humans or Machines?

Consumers want this technology to work, and welcomed it with open arms. However, years later, they're still queueing for tills; waiting for store-staff assistance with errors or age checks; and searching high and low for the PLU code of the Walla Walla Sweet Onions they're trying to purchase.

In a 2021 survey of 1,000 American shoppers, 60% of consumers said they prefer to use self-checkout over a staffed checkout aisle when given the choice, yet 67% of consumers have had the technology fail while trying to use it.

Alamy Experts say some self-checkout kiosks may stand abandoned as some shoppers transition backed to staffed tills. Credit: Alamy

The bottom line is businesses want to cut costs, and shoppers want to get in and out of a store. If self-checkout isn't the answer, they'll find another avenue.

"It's not that self-checkout technology is good or bad, per se… [but] if we try self-checkout and realise we're not benefitting from it, we might switch back to not using it," says Amit Kumar, an assistant professor of marketing and psychology at the University of Texas, who studies consumer behaviour and decision-making.

That appears to be happening in many cases, as customers' frustrations with the technology persist. But Andrews says that while stores may change up their strategies – as seen with Dollar General and others – many large retail chains are likely to keep kiosks in stores due to sunk costs. "They spent billions putting it in stores, and are hoping they can still get the public to buy into it," he says.

Retailers may continue to rely on the technology, but many aren't putting all their farm-fresh eggs in the self-checkout basket. Instead, they're increasingly giving customers the option to choose between human and machine.

For the customers that do choose to do the labour themselves, there's one thing Andrews believes won't change. However ubiquitous the technology is, and however much consumers get used to using the kiosks, shoppers are likely to find themselves disappointed and frustrated most of the time.

"It was part of a larger experiment in retail in trying to socialise people into using it," he says. Simply, "customers hate it".

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO SAVE LIVES

featuring. neurosurgeon!gojo | smut mdni, repost :p

neurosurgeon!gojo who you unknowingly meet in a bar on the night before your first day at your new job as a surgical intern. you didn’t really intend to get as drunk as you did, and you didn’t intend to kiss the really cute guy at the bar who had your attention all night. but, you more than definitely didn’t intend to bring him back to your apartment

“oh- fuck.”, you mewl as he continues pounding into your overstimulated pussy, his hand wrapped gently around your neck with the other roughly grabbing onto the plush of your hips. his brows were furrowed as he chases both of your highs with his own faint whimpers, his movements just so perfectly hitting your g-spot as you wrap your legs around his waist and throwing your head back because of the pure euphoria this man you had just met was giving you

neurosurgeon!gojo who wakes up in your bed the next morning, feeling so confused after you just shook his peacefully sleeping figure awake, ranting on at him

“so yeah, you need to leave.”, was the only thing he managed to clock onto after you had been rambling on about something. being late for your first day of work was it? all while he was still figuring out where he was for a second. he thinks you’re cute, though, trying to rush him out of your apartment. can’t say he’s ever had that happen to him before

neurosurgeon!gojo who does eventually leave after you got into the shower with you thinking that was it and you’d never see this ridiculously attractive stranger again

neurosurgeon!gojo who is described as a genius on your first day at work as a surgical intern, as one of the best surgeons in the country. some even would go as far to say the world. you were just so excited to meet and potentially work with him! especially with your interest to specialise in neurosurgery

neurosurgeon!gojo who makes some time in his busy schedule to talk to all the new surgical interns as head of neurosurgery and give some insight and advice to his new colleagues

neurosurgeon!gojo who sees you as he’s talking, his breath caught in his throat and stumbling on his words which go unnoticed by absolutely no one. you sharply inhale, knowing you had just slept with the head of neurosurgery just twelve hours ago - god, was this gonna cause a conflict of interest?

“oh my god, do you know the dr. gojo?”, one of your fellow interns ask as you feel your face heat up in embarrassment, shaking your head and pretending like you’ve never seen this man, when the night before he was eight inches deep inside you

neurosurgeon!gojo who after the talk with the interns, pulls you to the side with a cheeky grin on his face as he mentions the night before while you stand there awkwardly with your hands clasped together

neurosurgeon!gojo who then shamelessly asks you out to dinner, only to be met with your furrowed brows and stern voice telling him that it was inappropriate. he was basically your boss, who was several years older than you at that. not to mention that you’d both get fired if anyone was to find out

neurosurgeon!gojo who takes your rejection as a game, continuing to flirt with you shamelessly any chance he got despite the eye rolls and heavy sighs you met him with

neurosurgeon!gojo who chases you for the next month, even letting you assist in his surgeries after finding out how interested in neurosurgery you were. you wondered if he was simply playing favourites

“did you let me assist because we slept together?”, you ask bluntly, just ripping the bandaid off. “hm? yes i did.”, he admits with a shrug. “do you not realise how inappropriate that is?”, you scoff. “well, that’s what you wanted me to say, wasn’t it? that i chose you because you’re my favourite.” there’s a pause, “i chose you because i thought you were the most capable. believe it or not, i know how to do my job.”

neurosurgeon!gojo who you soon realise isn’t as bad as you originally thought as you continue working with him, his cocky demeanour slipping every so often where you see a genuinely selfless and kind hearted man who just simply wants to save lives

neurosurgeon!gojo who asks you out for a drink, one drink, he says, simply to celebrate a successful surgery on a case that had a 20% chance of survival after your assist with him

neurosurgeon!gojo who is so delightfully surprised when you say yes, his constant days of chasing you finally moving in the direction he wanted, even if it was minimal

neurosurgeon!gojo who ends up buying you both multiple drinks, just as you knew would happen. the both of you were so giggly as you stumble out the bar together, your hand resting on his chest whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulder

neurosurgeon!gojo who decides to take his chances, the liquid courage definitely hitting his head a little too hard, and pulls you in slowly as he places a small and sweet kiss on your lips, completely taking you by surprise

neurosurgeon!gojo who apologises profusely once he sees your shocked reaction, thinking he’s just fucked up the good night you both were having together

neurosurgeon!gojo who is shut up by you, pulling his shirt so he’s down to your level and roughly kissing him again, the previous worries you had before completely gone and the only thing on your mind was him, and just maybe that mind blowing sex he gave you the first night you met

“take me home?”, you ask as gojo catches on to the real meaning behind your words, smiling to himself as he nods with butterflies in his stomach. maybe his hard work flirting with you had finally paid off

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

[blairxbear]

How they react to accidental hand touches...

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

When your hand accidentally brushes theirs how will they react? More adorable moments with my absolute favourite boys!

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Tenya Ida, Denki Kaminari, Mirio Togata, Hanta Sero, Koji Koda, Mashirao Ojiro

Izuku Midoriya

Immediate panic.

His brain short-circuits as soon as your fingers brush against his.

Visibly stiffens, blush creeping up his neck.

"Oh—uh—I—sorry!" He flails a little, pulling his hand back like he just touched a live wire.

Goes into a spiral of overthinking (Was that on purpose? Did they notice? What does it mean?!).

Avoids eye contact for at least ten minutes but keeps sneaking glances at your hands.

If you don’t seem bothered, he tries to casually ��accidentally” touch your hand again.

If you tease him about it, he gets even redder but stammers out something dorky like, "It—it was nice, though!"

Shoto Todoroki

Freezes completely.

He stares at your hands touching, his brain buffering.

"Oh." He says it so softly like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Doesn’t move his hand away immediately because he’s too busy processing the warmth of your skin.

If you act casual, he might not even mention it.

If you fluster easily, he gets curious and might brush his fingers against yours again just to see you react.

Secretly enjoys it way more than he lets on.

Tenya Iida

Immediate, dramatic reaction.

"OH! I—I APOLOGIZE!" Yanks his hand back so fast you barely realize what happened.

Bows slightly like he’s committed a crime.

Probably starts lecturing himself out loud about "personal space" and "proper conduct between friends."

Blushes all the way to his ears.

If you laugh, he becomes even more flustered but smiles at you shyly.

If you casually brush your hand against his again, he short-circuits but secretly loves it.

Denki Kaminari

Immediate, dramatic overreaction.

"OH—so we’re holding hands now? NICE!" Grins like an idiot but is absolutely internally screaming.

Might jokingly lace your fingers together for a second just to tease you.

Flirty on the outside, a mess on the inside.

If you pull away shyly, he instantly melts.

"Aww, don’t be shy! We can do it again if you want~" Winks but is actually very nervous.

His brain replays the moment for the rest of the day.

Mirio Togata

Completely unbothered.

"Oh! Looks like we’re connected now!" Gives you the most radiant smile ever.

Gently squeezes your fingers before pulling away like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

If you seem shy about it, he might casually grab your hand again just to tease you.

100% chill but definitely thinking, "Wow, their hands are soft."

If you bring it up later, he’ll just laugh and say, "Want to do it again?"

Hanta Sero

Smirks immediately.

"Oh? We holdin’ hands now? Cute."

Doesn’t move his hand away for a few seconds just to see your reaction.

Super casual about it but secretly finds it adorable if you get flustered.

If you pull away quickly, he’ll tease you. "What, I don’t bite~" but is secretly a little bummed you let go.

If you act normal, he just rolls with it and might "accidentally" do it again.

Koji Koda

Immediately panics.

Face turns beet red, ears included.

Looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

"S-Sorry!" Voice so soft you barely hear it.

Pulls his hand away instantly, even though he kind of liked it.

Too shy to bring it up again but will definitely think about it for the rest of the day.

If you casually touch his hand again later, he might pass out from flustered happiness.

Mashirao Ojiro

Surprisingly smooth about it.

"Oh, my bad." But doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all.

Gives you a soft smile but secretly feels his heartbeat speed up.

If you get flustered, he finds it super cute.

Might casually do it again later just to test your reaction.

If you keep acting normal, he will pretend it’s no big deal, but inside, he’s a little giddy.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Small Talk with a Dead Man

After a dramatic realization during Christmas break, Y/N has been peacefully trying to live her life without the influence of the Batfamily. One night after classes, she is visited by an old friend...

*Fluff*

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I shouldn't have been surprised. TV broadcasts. Google Alerts. The radio guy who complained about Gotham's newest Crime lord during my morning commute. A few local news stations dared to ask, "Is Red Hood more dangerous than the Black Mask?"

Despite all those warning signs, my heart stops when I see him again. A flash of lightning illuminates the man across from me. The signature Red Helmet drips rainwater on my ratty tan carpet. Judging by the watercolors across his knuckles, he must have driven from patrol.

From the corner of my bedroom, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Dick's grinning face covers the screen. I hurriedly decline the call. Tim's face makes an appearance. The screen goes black. I drag my gaze back to the dead.

"Hatchling?" Jason observes motioning to Tim's contact name, "What's Damien's? Infant?"

I pause to think about it. What did I make Damien's?

"Sassy pants... with several angry emojis." I elaborate showing him the contact.

"Ahh... fitting for a child raised by assassins."

The room feels too small. Stuffy even. After years of dreaming of what I'd want to say to him, I blank. How do you even begin to approach this conversation? A painful silence forms. The helmet drops from his trembling hands with a thud. My heart stings when I hear his voice break.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

That breaks me out of my stupor. Crossing the room, I shush him.

"Take this jacket off before you track any more water in. My landlord is terrified of mold."

Reluctantly, he lets me peel the wet leather away from his goosebumped riddled skin. The hulking man slumps towards my touch. In the darkness, his features soften. He stops my quiet fussing by brushing the side of my cheek with the palm of his hand. For a moment, he takes a labored breath. Slowly, I meet his gaze. I can almost forget how long it has been.

How many nights did we do this? Bruce starting a fight. Jason sneaking in through my childhood window with a devilish grin.

"I figured I've already disappointed one father figure. Why not disappoint them both?"

The image of his charred corpse flashes in my mind. I flinch away from his grasp. Some memories don't age well.

"Go sit in the living room," I command throwing a towel in his direction, "Do you want tea?"

"Yes please." He agrees following my heels, "Do you have-"

"The usual? " I interrupt with a sly backward glance, "Who do you think I am?"

I almost blush at the look he gives me. Good God. My back turns to face him while I turn the kettle on.

Which mug do you give a dead man?

I correct myself.

Which mug do you give a crime lord?

I look past the cluster of random holiday cups to my shining star. A brand new Superman mug complete with a washable cape napkin. Water. Green Tea and chamomile bags. A little bit of honey.

While I set everything up, Jason studies the collage of photos on my wall. Some from Gotham. A mix from school. His eyes fall upon a selfie of Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and I. Encrested on the frame, it reads, "Jason Todd Memorial 2022". My throat gets tight. It seems so meaningless now. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I analyze the man. The new uniform is much more outwardly utilitarian than his Robin costume. No more shorts. The guns are new. He had set a few in a cluster on the coffee table. Jason takes a postcard from the collage in his hands.

"George Clooney?" He muses turning over the card, "Dick always had a flair for the dramatics."

"It runs in the family," I retort setting down his mug on the table.

As I draw near, he smiles at the choice of mug.

"I didn't realize that you picked sides."

"Alfred sent it to me as a peace offering," I shrug.

I motion to the brown patched-up couch. Jason eagerly reclines. His body stiffens at the strange lumps towards the center.

"Courtesy of Ma Kent," I joke, "I'm convinced she lined it with kryptonite, so Clark wouldn't jump on it."

Rubbing his sore shoulders, Jason grimaces sitting up.

"Well, I'm sure this is the only couch that could cause the Man of Steel back pain."

Sitting next to the sweaty young man, I sip on my own tea. The bitterness of the green tea grounds me to the present.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in Gotham tonight?" I question glancing at the freshly bandaged cuts on his arms.

He shakes his head grimacing at the memory. New City. New topics.

Grabbing the remote, I start, "What are you feeling tonight? I've been aching to rewatch "You're Next" for a while."

He eyes me with playful suspicion. Jason folds his arms behind his head.

"What? I've always found scary movies comforting after a long day."

"Like the way you find Ma Kent's Couch to be comfortable?" He teases fidgeting with the coarse fabric of the homemade pillow.

The random stains make him raise an eyebrow. Thunder shakes my apartment.

"It's an acquired taste." I reply pulling the pillow flush against my chest, "Besides, horror is the only genre where your anxiety is always right, but the horror never stays for too long. It’s nice to see the Protagonists survive to the end of their story."

For a moment, he looks like my Jason again. The slight bruising around his left eye causes him to squint ever so slightly, but he flashes me an amused smirk. Studying the man beside me, everything about him feels so familiar yet so foreign simultaneously. He has the same onery smile, yet it doesn't stretch as far as it did before. This new Jason is big... Somehow in the last few years, Jason doubled in size. What were they feeding him?

"You watch too many movies." He remarks offering me half of the blanket.

I pause trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. My Jason had blue eyes. A flash of lightning illuminates the small TV screen. Sitting next to the furnace of a man, I inadvertently inch closer.

"That is probably true." I reply lying my head on his shoulder.

Taking his large, calloused hand in mine, I turn it over in examination.. The skin is torn at the knuckles probably due to some unknown crook starting something he couldn't finish. His swollen splotchy purple fingers wrap around mine.

"Does it hurt?" I ask curiously

He responds with a painful shrug.

"Not as much as dying."

Jason eyes me curiously waiting for my reaction. Against all odds, I laugh until I snort. He turns his head to hide the smile on his face. Eyes on the TV, Jay continues.

"Well, it's true."

Taglist: @nosyrobin,@jjsmeowthie.@epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin,@rory-cakes,@luna-zendra-star,@b4tm4nn,@anuttellaa,@chibiduck

[vechter]

here are some fics from my beautiful mutuals that left me in shambles this month:

those million tons of light by mintchocochips absolutely devastating donna character study set right after countdown with a heavy focus on kyle. stunning prose & the most authentic consideration of donna's identity torment nexus + her relationships with all the people in her life. gorgeous allusions + superb examination of canonical moments

Moments After The End by vividities short ficlet for titans/yj graduation day #3 exploring dick's immediate reaction to donna's death. bonus appearance from roy; succinct & gutting with some heartbreaking imagery & dialogue

Passiontide by bigdamnher0 dick in his spyral era. consideration of the impact of nightwing #30 with the most gorgeous and chewy prose. heavy focus on bruce & the kind of devotion they have for each other + a wonderful insight into some of the grayson '14 elements

with golden string by FromStarstuff donna character study. the thesis. will leave you devastated but heart-fulfilled for the kind of love dick & roy have for donna. gorgeous consideration of donna's personhood + the impact of having all that history encased in her + what a terrible and beautiful thing it can be

all we are is an aching that can barely be filled by 2mad4plaid dickroy in outsiders era my absolute beloved. gorgeous depiction of the push and pull they have in this era + insightful consideration of how differently they grieve for donna. compelling character work with beautifully depicted chemistry

Parable of the Friend at Midnight by dustorange tim centric with a gorgeous juxtaposition of his relationships with jack & bruce. bonus features from alfred and dick. stellar internal voice for tim and as always, dustorange's prose is beautiful and layered; reads so authentic to how tim was in this era

memories {like water slipping through your fingers}. by SHINeeNAilee dickroy but make it canon divergent: roy meets ric grayson. there are layers to every moment and mack does such a wonderful exploration of how well roy knows dick & how terrified and untethered ric is till this moment. insane chemistry work

i'm in the business of losing your interest by mintchocochips babs character study set during NML. absolutely stunning insight into some of the behind the scenes moments of barbara's competence and grit. all her complexities are beautifully considered and her desperation + how tired and scared she is, are all tied together wonderfully

burning money by yutro canon divergence where willis todd lives and comes out of prison into a world where jason is dead. absolutely devastating character work and prose for his grief. every vignette packs a punch + a wonderful examination of the dubious ethics of child sidekicks in a way that feels like it could fit right into canon

[dee-writes-anime]

do you have any headcanons with soft yandere hawks?

Obsessed? No, Baby, this is Love

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami i x Reader

SUMMARY He's not crazy and he means well, that's all! OR yandere hawks headcannons

CONTENT WARNINGS Hawks being overprotective, stalker tendencies, obsessions, and stuff like that!

AUTHORS NOTE I love making headcannons! They're pretty stress free and it's nice to take a break once and a while from plotting and writing and instead just being able to yap. Thanks for the request anon! <3

Constantly checking in

Hawks texts you more than a grandma on Facebook. It starts with a simple “Hey, how’s your day going?” but quickly spirals into 57 messages asking if you’re eating, sleeping, and possibly getting your required dose of love for the day. “I know you're fine, but just wanted to check—are you still breathing? Have you drank enough water, or should I remind you again?” You almost feel like you’re his pet, except, you know, way cuter.

He’ll “protect” you (a.k.a. hover over you)

His wings? They’re not just for flying, no. They’re like a personal shield that always shows up at the worst possible moments. You’ll be minding your business, and suddenly, there’s Hawks, hovering two inches behind you like a warm, feathery cloud. “Just here to keep an eye on you,” he says. And you’re like, Can I breathe though?

Who doesn't love surpise gifts?! (that double as surveillance devices)

Hawks loves to surprise you with thoughtful little trinkets, but they always come with just a touch of paranoia. “I saw this keychain and thought it’d be cute for you!” Sure, it’s cute… until you notice the tiny GPS tracker hidden inside it. “It’s for your safety,” he says with a wink. Right, Hawks. We all know it’s just in case someone tries to get too close to you. How sweet… and creepy.

Oh! Funny running into you here! ^.^

You think you’ve got your life together, doing errands, living your best independent life, but oh wait—here’s Hawks, just happening to be at the same café as you. “What a coincidence! I was just nearby!” Uh-huh, right. And I’m just shocked you also happened to bring coffee for both of us. It’s fine, though—he’s just making sure you’re not plotting to run off into the sunset with someone who doesn’t know your coffee order by heart.

He hides his jealousy so well! (can you hear his eye twitching?)

You ever see someone try to hide a full-on mental breakdown with a forced smile? Yeah, that’s Hawks when anyone looks at you for more than a second. Someone says “hi” to you at the grocery store? Expect a dramatic, almost cinematic shift in his vibe. His wing stiffens, the smile freezes, and you can practically hear the internal scream. “Oh, hey, did you want to buy something from their cart? I’m sure they don’t mind…” Sure, Hawks. Totally not possessive.

He's so sweet!... why is it almost scary?

At first, you think it’s sweet when Hawks remembers that you prefer a certain type of tea. Then you realize he’s tracking everything. “Remember when you said you liked that red dress from last summer? I got you a matching scarf!” And you're just standing there like, “Thanks? Are you trying to get me to fall in love with you or just lock me down forever?” His answer? “Both. But mostly the first one.”

Overprotective in the most (un)subtle way!

If you ever think you're going out for a “normal” night, you’re so wrong. “You don’t have to go out tonight, do you? It’s really cold out, and I’d hate for you to catch a cold.” Translation: “I’d prefer if you just stayed here and let me watch over you like a hawk (pun intended).” You try to resist, but then he hits you with the puppy eyes, and suddenly, you’re canceling plans to stay in and binge-watch Netflix with him… because clearly, you’re too important to be out in the world without him.

He's obsessed in love with the little things!

Hawks is obsessed with every single part of you, even the things you don’t notice. He’ll bring up the exact way you tap your foot when you’re anxious or how you always hum that one song when you’re about to do something important. “I thought you’d like these earrings because you always wear that shade of blue.” He’s scarily good at remembering everything. And you’d be a little worried if you weren’t so flattered by the fact that this man can’t get enough of you.

Bottom line? Hawks is like the perfect mix of sweet and “don’t you dare leave me alone for more than five minutes” obsession. But hey, at least you don’t have to worry about losing your keys, right? Because he’s got a tracker on everything—including your heart.

TAGLIST

@surielstea

[becausegraf]

Everything You Put Me Through - what is this ‘everything’ really?

Featuring: 

1) Interpreting the actual meaning of Blitz’ angry rant

2) A look into how Stolas misheard him just like most of us did, and 

3) A side-track into how they both gave the wrong signals about what they actually wanted from each other right from the start.

So, idk if this is a new-ish idea or not but

I've been pondering that moment where Blitz goes 'After *everything you've put me through*!!' during their one-sided argument, because it just didn't make a whole lotta sense to me.

The *obvious* reading would be that he means everything as in 'the sex arrangement [that I didn't like but didn't object to]' and I get the impression that's what most people read it as, taking it at face-value. 

It makes no sense though, as we see all kinds of evidence for Blitz actually *wanting* the arrangement to stay exactly as it is. Both before the Full Moon and after he shows his motivation to stick with their deal, and ‘it makes sense’ to him. He's at least physically into Stolas and Stolas is into him, for as far as he knows/hopes, what could possibly be wrong about continuing to have regular sex dates they both enjoy?

Throwing out that accusation of Stolas putting him through something upsetting, I personally felt like he was talking out of his ass spouting something aggressive just to channel his anger *somewhere*, including the whole tangent he went on with the whole 'not taking the lower class seriously' thing. 

Sure, it's an angle you can definitely consider, but it just seemed to have so little to do with their actual interactions around their agreement, and with what was happening right there and then?? The dismissive ‘bye Blitz I'm done talking please leave’ attitude, sure, but something about his rant doesn't seem on-topic enough to be about JUST that.

-

All that said, I think I finally figured something out:

He's talking about explicitly everything *other than the sex part*

‘The sex part’ is specifically what he WAS okay with, but it's the whole 'ugh wtf is he trying to do here, playing at us being actual friends and him caring about me' that was NOT part of the agreement that caused by far the most emotional distress to Blitz, and what I think he had in mind when thinking of 'stuff Stolas put him through' that he'd *actually* have struggled with.

Like.... this might sound kinda backwards but I can see Blitz legitimately struggling with 'how dare he put me in this situation where he gets hurt and I feel like it's my fault, and somehow I'm supposed to care and I DO care but what the fuck am I supposed to *do with that*.'

- because that'd be the sort of emotional challenge that'd really throw him off and make him feel absolutely terrible.

'If he'd just kept this business-only, I wouldn't be this conflicted.’

If it was ‘just business’ and nothing more, there would be neither the expectation nor the justification to approach Stolas and everything about him like a friend. Blitz *needs* it to be unambiguously ‘just business’ for his own comfort and sanity, because if it isn't… 

Example:

A prissy rich boy just looking to get giggity living out his fantasy couldn't possibly give a fuck if his ‘plaything’ to be ignored outside of fun times didn't come see him at the hospital, right? If that's what this is (and to Blitz that was the only believable option), to go visit him would be an enormous risk, and a huge emotionally messy one at that, given what happened the last time he tried to see someone he cared about who got hurt because of him. 

Yeah hahah, no. It's way easier to tell himself Stolas doesn't care, than to open THAT whole can of worms and push himself into the purgatory of being rejected in anger or be made fun of for being so stupid as to think Stolas might have wanted him there for real.

It's that internal emotional turmoil that really messes him up, and that he resents Stolas for. 

‘Why can't he just play by the obvious rules and keep it simple and clean, why does he have to do this pretend-bullshit making me almost think he actually values me, and make it so hard to keep my distance and stay detached, damnit!’

Because if that's what Stolas was actually doing, that would 1000% count as ‘playing with someone's feelings’, wouldn't it?

The annoying nicknames and the 'having sex appointments' stuff is not remotely the sort of thing that actually bothers someone like Blitz that much. It's maybe a nuisance or inconvenience, but there's no way he actually has deep-seated emotional pain about that. 

Stolas trying harder and harder to invite him closer and get to know him, THAT would be what would piss Blitz off, because he could only see it as this owl dragging him into some dumb roleplay. And that is what would actually, genuinely hurt to be a part of, because he wishes it *could* be real.

When Stolas ‘plays at being his friend in earnest’, Blitz thoroughly hates how it makes him feel.

Stolas is NOT pretending, but that's 100% inconceivable to Blitz. It being genuine is the one possible interpretation he can't risk taking seriously because if he's *wrong* oh my lord…

‘This hurts and I wished he'd stop doing what's causing me to feel this way.’

At this point in time, Blitz can't process his own feelings well enough to comprehend that that's what's causing him this pain, so all he feels is agitation over something vague. 

He feels anger, some resentment towards Stolas, and the only proper explanation he can give to himself is that Stolas is being thoughtless and disrespectful towards him - of course he'd be bothered and annoyed. That makes sense in his mental framework.

‘This whole thing he does, pretending to give a shit for real makes me feel like garbage, and he just keeps doing it like it's nothing, because he's just a total braindead douche when it comes to that specific stuff. He doesn't get why he needs to stop at *all*.’’

Blitz is walled off from his own vulnerable yearning and desires by fifteen layers of deflection and ignoring and irony. 

He tells himself he hates Stolas’ disrespectful, patronizing attitude, when the core of it is *disappointment* and self-doubts, and how it triggers his sense of unworthiness and hopelessness about never being able to have anything ‘real’.

He *genuinely* didn't get it, as obvious as it seems from an external POV, and other than Fizz nobody had any reason to challenge him on that. Other parties either didn't care, saw it just like Blitz did, or had no idea Blitz could be *that* freaking blind. 

Example:

Millie goofily referring to Stolas as Blitz's ‘boyfriend’ to her parents. Blitz responds as if she's disrespectfully joining in with Stolas’ thoughtless making a mockery of his feelings just to tease him, rather than being affectionately cheeky about this odd but kind of cute situationship he has going on and ‘pretends’ to be in denial about.

-

ALL OF THIS makes what he said when he blew up at Stolas make perfect sense.

... and it also means Stolas misheard it as 'he thinks I'm just some shallow sex fiend using him for pleasure' instead of 'he's mad at me because to him it sounded like all my attempts to be nice to him were just a messed up powerplay, despite me meaning every word of it'.

To Stolas, Blitz thinking he'd be that shallow is easy to believe because it's the most obviously logical possibility, AND it's also kind of his worst fear at that point. 

The notion of his genuine interest and tenderness being consistently misread, by comparison, is a pretty strange mental twist. It *almost* makes no sense at all that someone could only half-intentionally misconstrue regular kind messages as some contrived fucked up performance.

'When did I ever play with his feelings, it can't be all the times I tried to be nice to him with no strings attached because I really meant that in earnest... so it's gotta be the sex arrangement he's mad over??'

No wonder he took it the way he did.

-

Now, for my third section - it's quite the tragicomedy that their first reunion as adults was a whole pile-up of giving each other inaccurate impressions of what the other one actually wanted.

'Are you here to ravish me' = oh okay, owl do be randy??? thinketh a Blitz

'Oh hey there buddy, want me to ravish you then~?' = oh uh wow uh um ok he's here because he's actually for real into me????? wondereth a Stolas

and then they just kept that little 'roleplay' of trying to give the other what they thought they wanted from each other going, assuming that was the actual primary motivation of the other (when really Blitz was there for the book and Stolas had no idea what he was getting himself into and he was just making shit up on the fly half sloshed).

They pretty much *showed* each other that yes, they do in fact want-a-da-sex from each other, pretty explicitly,

and the deal they struck was just a convenient excuse to keep seeing each other.

It's not that hard to see how Stolas' thinking went there... 

‘Hey so, that was the most amazing thing ever and oh my goodness me, if Blitz actually likes me that way and as an aside he can use the grimoire too, um, well, tee hee hee? maybe we can make it a regular thing officially~?’

He called it favours for favours, but really it's sex for sex, and the grimoire's kind of a bonus tossed in because it makes a neat story, for as far as he's concerned. He clearly didn't have any intentions of withholding it if Blitz wanted a different arrangment.

'Let's keep having dates under this little fun guise of borrowing my book, because hee hee hoo hoo that's a neat dramatic plot device just like in my novels.'

He only way later clues into the implications of it as 'wait shit he does actually really need that book for real, this is kinda messed up despite never intending to lord it over him like this'.

Stolas *would* be the kind of dork to think of it like some romance story where the fated lovers come up with some cover story to continue their passionate forbidden tryst

... and it also makes scheduling really simple, HAH. 

(I mean scheduling can be *such* a pain in the ass, anyone who's ever played DnD would know that well enough, right~? Consistency is key ehehehehe.)

[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | january 2, prompt: fire | word count: 1.575 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger intern james potter

“A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries? What does that even fucking mean?!” James shouts into the receiver as he winds through the busy masses of bodies crossing the roads, the traffic light across blinking for him to hurry. “Can’t I pick up something for him from Burger King or something? You know, like a normal human being?” 

On the other end of the line, Barty snorts a derisive sound. “Yeah, you try feeding him cheap chain franchise slob and see how that plays out for you. The fucker thinks Versace is a low-class brand, James. He probably doesn’t even know what the inside of a Burger King looks like. Besides, that place is fire. They have good shit.”

Groaning, James picks up the speed and sets out for a sprint, having missed the bus to Howick and resorted to the most reliable way of transport—his two sets of healthy, always moderately trained legs. 

“Are you running? You better not be fucking running, Potter. You’re going to come back all sweaty and with creases in your cheap-ass button-up and then I’m going to be the one getting shit for not driving you and ruining the image of Regulus Black’s executive assistant—”

“Suck a dick, Barty,” James bites back after barely evading a car, its tires screeching at him in warning. He throws the driver an apologetic smile.

“I’m serious. You meal-prepped, Potter! Asked where the fucking office microwave is, are you out of your mind? Lunch is on company credit, for fuck’s sake. You’ve got an image to uphold now you’re working for Black Enterprises!”

“The cafeteria is too rich for my taste. Besides, I like meal-prepping. It’s calming.”

“Your fucking tuna stinks up the place.”

“Maybe that’s just your big bullshitting mouth.”

“Listen here, you piece of—”

“Oops, entering a tunnel, hear that?” James cups a hand over the receiver and makes a low, grating sound—mimicking the static rasp of a bad cellular connection. “See you!”

He tucks away the phone before entering Beauxbatons, the restaurant Barty had told him to go to because Regulus was craving his guilty snack, which, to James, sounded like an item right off a witch’s menu. Then again, he was a poor twenty-three-year-old who had just had a gap year fresh out of university, lived in a run-down apartment tucked in Southern London, and knew nothing of the expensive tastes a man like Regulus Black possessed. Thirty-something years old and not a single skin blemish. Must be all the fucking truffle and caviar and whatever Boiron guava puree he eats.

“Welcome,” one of the employees asks. Of course, all of the staff are also wearing pristine clothes and have perfectly sleeked-back hair.

“Hi,” James answers, now all too conscious of the developing sweat marks below his armpits and the dampness cooling on his back. “I’m, uh, here to pick up lunch? Sorry, I forgot my order so let me have a peek at my messages…”

The employee blinks like James has grown a second head. “Take-away? Sir, this is a dine-in restaurant.”

Good thing James has come prepared. He shuffles through the contents of his bag, phone in the other hand and tip of his tongue peeking out in full concentration. “Oh, that’s alright. I brought something to carry it with me. I also got some Tupperware if you don’t mind rinsing it beforehand.”

“No, sir, it’s not a matter of containers,” the employee starts, her lips pursed into a tight line. “We don’t do takeaways.”

James stops and frowns, bag half slung over his shoulder. “Isn’t this Beauxbatons?”

“It is.”

“My boss sometimes has people pick up his lunch here.”

“You must be mistaken… We do not lend any type of service like that.”

James sighs. Great. Amazing. Just what he needed. “Right. Do you mind if I make a call? I’m sorry, there must have been a mistake then.”

The employee, undoubtedly taking pity on him and his disorderly state that suggests he’s been running the past ten minutes, nods. “Of course.”

Heaving a sigh, James scrolls through his contact list and taps on ‘Regulus’, never mind that he has been firmly instructed to only call him during emergencies. But considering the sort of day he’s been having, he considers this one.

Regulus picks up after the third ring. “Potter?”

It’s been two weeks and he still won’t fucking call him by his name, going off on tangents about formal office conduct and etiquette. Potter this, Potter that, bridling when he’s called by his first name for a change in an environment that would kiss the soles of his feet if he’d ask. “Hi, I’m at the place you sent me the address of but they don’t do takeaways so I wanted to know what you want to eat. You cool with Wagamama?”

There’s a pregnant pause—all too telling of how Regulus is probably taking a deep breath and doing the thing where he either pinches the bridge of his nose or rubs his eyebrows. “Have you mentioned the takeaway is for me?”

“No, I haven’t.” What difference would it make, James wants to ask. But in a world where Regulus Black is pretty much revered, he is confident it would make a little difference at least.

“Do that, Potter.”

James rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the employee. “He wants you to know his name is Regulus, by the way.”

Her eyes widen. “Reg—Do you mean Mr. Black?”

James clicks his tongue. “That the one.” The employee doesn’t look convinced and James holds up his hand just above his chest. “About this tall? Curly black hair? Probably in one of today’s morning tabloids, not hard to miss. I could put him on speaker if you’d like?”

There’s the frantic wave of her hands, head shaking vigorously. “Oh! You should have told me from the start, Sir. Please, what would Mr. Black like to eat for lunch? I—I’m sorry. We are very exclusive in our service and are most honored Mr. Black has once again chosen our humble establishment—”

“Just,” James sighs, skimming over the menu laminated standing on an easel by the entrance, not possessing the energy to listen to someone go off on tangents about his boss again. Not like he does so internally at night, anyway. Absolutely not. “A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries.”

“Not fries, a salad—” Regulus reminds him over the phone, but James has decided that he will just about eat whatever James decides on.

“Potter—” Regulus tries again and James flat-out hushes him. To his surprise, Regulus actually shuts up.

The employee nods, over-excited. “Oh, of course, an excellent choice. How would Mr. Black like it to be cooked?”

James shrugs. “I don’t know, on a grill?”

There’s a faint garbled noise coming from Regulus that James will definitely tuck away in his memory.

But the employee is too thrilled to be serving someone as pompous as Regulus to notice the lack of culinary terminology James possesses. “Oh, I meant the cook of the meat!”

“The cook of the meat?” James repeats. “I don’t know, whoever is on shift? Regulus, who do you want to cook your burger?”

The employee makes a high-pitched sound at the same Regulus sighs in a very exaggerated, exhausted manner. “Just tell them medium rare.”

“Medium? What is this, a video game difficulty?”

“Medium rare!” the employee chirps, her smile wry. Strands of hair stick out of the previously perfectly pulled-back bun like the situation has created plenty of static to dishevel her updo. “One medium rare wagyu—”

“Don’t forget the fries,” James adds, unable to fight off the grin cleaving his face. This, he loves most—fucking with rich people. ‘Who do you want to cook your meat?’ he’s a genius for that one, an absolute innovative mastermind. Make him head of corporate next at this rate.

“You had to call me for this?” Regulus asks him as James watches the poor girl scurry off to the back, undoubtedly to ring in the order and gush about the perfect, rich, hot-looking Regulus Black on the phone by the restaurant’s hallway.

“It was an emergency. I get you the wrong order and you, I dunno, bite off my head like Miranda Priestly.”

“I don’t know a Miranda Priestly.”

“No? Shame. Would’ve loved her, a real feisty woman that one. She works in the fashion industry, though.”

“Potter.”

James tries not to bark out a laugh. He can’t help it, Regulus is just too easy. “Yeah, I’ll get you your overtly expensive A3-grade cut of meat that could pay for my weekly rent. Didn’t take you for the type of man to get burgers, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m asking employees of a lower tax bracket to pick them up for me.”

Okay, that’s kind of funny. Regulus Black can be fucking funny if he wants to, he just rarely chooses to. James barely masks his snort at it. “Got me there, boss.”

“Get a cab back to the office. And stop calling me boss.”

“My bad, Sir,” James drawls, knowing that Regulus reacts particularly well to this specific formality. 

A second of silence that stretches on for a little too long. James clears his throat, wondering if the line cut off. “Regu—”

“See you soon, Potter,” Regulus speaks, faster than usual, almost like he’s flustered, and with a strange pitch to his words before he hangs up.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"ELVIS FASHION: FROM VEGAS TO WASHINGTON"

ELVIS PRESLEY'S STAGE COSTUME FEATURED IN A FUN CHAPTER OF AMERICA'S POLITICS HISTORY.

Did you notice that after Elvis retired his 1969 stage costumes, he took at least one of them and wore it as street wear? Did you know that this same suit is part of one of the most memorable moments of his life, not only as a musician and one of the most famous personalities in the United States entertainment business but also as an American citizen? Let's talk about how Elvis gave another use to the Black Cossack Top Two-piece suit (AKA Black Herringbone suit) after its debut in a Las Vegas venue in 1969.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This is a very interesting article I was baking and it took me a while to write. Possible misspellings and typos is a warning I should add in my work from now - and I'm sorry about that but English is not my first language so, I would appreciate if you point erros to me so I can correct them to improve the reading experience for other Elvis enthusiasts that may read it in the future. Anyway, my jaw dropped when I noticed this little fun fact on Elvis' wardrobe, so I had to share this with you. I fear this article is gonna sound a bit like a chronicle, but I hope you enjoy the reading. Hope to see you in the comments box, friends! Here we go.

July 31, 1969. Elvis' opening night at the International Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada.

That was a special night. The very first evening in eight years since Elvis Presley had last performed an actual live concert since the Pearl Harbor Memorial Charity Show on March 25, 1961 at the Bloch Arena in Honolulu, Hawaii. Quite the big deal, so let's talk a bit about the significance of those 1969 Elvis concerts before we get to the main topic because, I guarantee you, the things I'm gonna point next only add to the main topic of this article (although I might ramble a bit and it's gonna be boring for the Elvis lovers who already know the facts about this third 'comeback' moment along his career so... feel free to skip this first part if you'd like to).

That evening on July 31, 1969 marked a memorable moment, not only for the King himself and the audience eye-witnessing his opening concert in Las Vegas, but also for music critics, pop culture journalists and enthusiasts, the entertainment world as a whole - including Elvis' pairs, other artists both from the movies and the music industries, almost all of the A-list artists at the time were his friends - not to mention the thousands, millions of Elvis fans spread all over the globe, cheering for what would be received as a sign that, in a near future, they could have the pleasure to see the King in action again - or for the very first time for some younger fans he conquered after the NBC's '68 Comeback Special TV show the year before.

The NBC-TV Christmas special "Singer Presents... Elvis", aired on December 3rd 1968, worked perfectly as a tool to rekindle the flame of passion in old times admirers of the King of Rock and Roll, as well as it served as a glorious introduction of Elvis as a serious musician to new audiences composed then by teens and young adults - who were only babies and children when Elvis was already causing hysteria wherever he went in the 50s. Some sections of that TV show, although including live audiences present as they were filmed, can't be taken as his official comeback to live performances. There were lots of intermissions involved in the process of taping the live concerts segments for that TV special, as you can expect from any film production. Pauses to camera, sound, make up and outfit adjustments resulted in many different takes in their way to achieve the "sit-down" and "stand-up" concerts short cuts that were used in the final product of that unforgettable moment in Elvis' legacy better known as the "'68 Comeback Special" TV show. The breaks during the taping of that NBC music production did not give the audience present, or Elvis, for that matter, the same exciting energy a real live concert could provide, not to mention that the audiences attending the NBC studios in Burbank, CA, on June 1968 for the tapping of the live concerts segments of that Christmas special were very reduced - composed mainly by fan club members, as well as a few members of the press and some of Elvis' own relatives and friends. The majority of his fans, who watched in awe to his initial late 60s live performances through TV screens, were still waiting to see him again in action with their own eyes. The expectation was high, very high. Expectations and anxiety hitting the roof, everyone waiting to find out if that Tupelo boy still had it, if he was still the King of Rock and Roll or the title no longer was worth him and he had left the insane commotion he used to produce in people back in the 50s. The music industry and its audiences in late 60s were exceptionally different from the ones Elvis was used to entertain in person in the 50s and early 60s, which means that in 1968 he had a small taste of what they were like during the '68 Special production time but the control over the audience's reaction, the need to keep things good for what those tapes would look like on television, didn't give Elvis the real notion of the actual 60s audience and what captivated them then. In 1969 he didn't know what to expect from a live audience anymore. Entertainers learn the do's or don'ts of the business while they're working in real time - no pauses, no space to make mistakes. Besides, succeeding in one single TV-show is one thing, but going back on the road for real was a much bigger challenge, specially when you know Elvis was booked to perform at the same stage for an entire month, 30 days in a row. He was older then, the times were different... Critics were expecting him to fail even in the 50s, betting he would be a passing fancy. In 1969 some people still didn't have the faith he could last much longer in the business and keep being as adored as he had before, so the question hanging in the air among all distinct age range music fans then was: "There is still place for Elvis Presley in the 60s youth music? Isn't he too old to be playing 'Rock and Roll' now?" Everybody's eyes were on Elvis onstage in 1969 or the news reports telling how successful his comeback live shows were.

Interesting to note how 1969 was an exciting year for Elvis. He was moved by challenges. He had to prove his worth so many times over the years, and 1969 was another one of those arduous periods in his career where he had people to prove wrong. As we know, he did it. He proved that the years confined in Hollywood sets for the most part of that decade had not caused a slight damage to his awe-inspiring talent as a live performer. Onstage Elvis was visibly excited, jovial, good-humored and bluntly sexy as probably never seen before at all - which was denoted by a bunch of double-entendres X-rated jokes he seemed interestingly comfortable in sharing with the audiences in Vegas now, something he wouldn't dare to in the 50s when he debuted in the Sin City for the two-weeks engagement season at the New-Frontier Hotel in April-May 1956, when he was only a 21 year-old young man, still a bit insecure and taken as an easy target by the square 50s society. As for his looks in 1969, it was amazing how his sex appeal notably increased onstage, but that was known since the TV special. Elvis was always that handsome man but in a time where aging was much more than nowadays taken as "the end" for artists, a family man and father as Elvis was (maybe too much for what a Rock and Roll star represented), 34 year-old Elvis was on his prime in 1969. By all accounts, Elvis looked superhuman both in talent and image.

Now we get to the goodies.

For his comeback, Elvis' tall and trim figure was enhanced by solid-color tight-fitting suits. They weren't yet the phenomenal handmade embroidered/bejeweled jumpsuits that would add another layer to the amazement of watching Elvis' live concerts in a year and a half ahead on the road but still... they impressed the audience. The solid-color matching top and bottom pieces with their designs inspired by karate uniforms, delivered modest elegance. Solid colors, long lines, barely noticeable embroilment. Perhaps we could look at those 1969 two-piece suits as part of the cleanest version in Elvis' fashion style onstage... even the 50s suits were flashier than those late 60s ones.

The first stage costume to debut in that new era of the King's career, on that July 31st 1969 evening, was the Black Cossack Top Two-piece suit (AKA Black Herringbone suit). As accessories, a black karate-style belt that also featuring the herringbone pattern, with long fringes on both ends. A silk black scarf with blue and white stripes, completed the look in a moment of his life where all the jewels and shine that would mark his mature caricature as the most famous musician in the 20th century were yet to come. Some fans prefer the 1969/1970 nonchalant elegance from his stage-wear.

Elvis retired the Herringbone suit from the concerts sometime in 1970 when his stage costumes wardrobe had been already almost entirely reformulated for the following performances. After the Las Vegas opening engagement in August-September 1969, Elvis would be back onstage only the next year for another Las Vegas season at the International Hotel in January-February 1970. From the previous season, apparently the only suit still put to use was the White Cossack Top Two-piece (That's not an official information. Given the lack of documentation in pictures - unfortunately a constant among the many concerts held in Las Vegas - it's possible the Black Cossack suits - yes, there were two of them! - could have been worn again at least for the first engagement season in Vegas in 1970. However, no more than that). Quickly Elvis' modest stage-wear would be replaced by more eye-catching detailed suits that were, from then on, mainly in white, as the Broquade ones and the ones we know too well from his August-September 1970 engagement season at the International Hotel, as the Fringe suit, the Concho suit and the Red Ladder, all featured in Elvis' first documentary film "Elvis: That's The Way It Is".

Elvis was always looking for ways of how to improve his performances and make his shows better. The reason why Elvis' white suits collection in 1970 surpassed that of dark suits one, almost certainly, is because Elvis and his crew figured the dark-colored fabrics weren't as helpful as the light-colored ones on letting people spot him with ease if they were watching him from a certain distance to the stage. That was something he learned from being back on the road. Different from the Las Vegas venues with its limited space showrooms, the arenas where Elvis performed around the US were much more spacious, allowing over 10000 fans to attend his concerts, a considerable larger number than the mere 2200 people the International Hotel allowed in seats.

🏆 Talking about attendance, that 1969 opening season at the International Hotel granted Elvis the famous Gold Attendance Belt, a belt he wore proudly on and off-stage for many years. The belt was an award, given to Elvis by the hotel's management in recognition for his record shattering attendance achievements: 57 SOLD-OUT CONCERTS... IN A ROW. That belt is also important in this article.

August 28, 1969: Elvis received a gold belt from Alex Shoofey immediately after his final show – the buckle reads 'World's Championship Attendance Record - International Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada."

Alright, so, onstage from 1970 on, the King was more keen of light-color suits. Off- stage, however, the dark colored suits were still part of his fashion preferences - and he wouldn't change that. That's when the Black Cossack suit was put to good use again.

Phoenix, Arizona, on September 9, 1970.

In the moment the pictures (1-3 above and 1 below) were taken, Elvis had just finished another engagement season at the International Hotel in Las Vegas (Season 3, the one from which the footage featured in "Elvis That's The Way It Is" were captured. That season ran from August 10th to September 8th 1970), and then he was about to embark on his first road tour since returning to live performances.

The first concert out of Vegas venues (not including the Houston Astrodome, Texas, concerts in February-March 1970 in the account because they were a distinct deal), was on September 9th 1970, held at the Veteran Memorial Coliseum in Phoenix, AZ (8:30 pm). For that concert Elvis wore the Fringe suit onstage. By then, the Black Cossack suits were no longer an option for live concerts, but they were not abandoned by the King, as mentioned.

Now comes the most interesting part.

In 1970, Elvis Presley added those black suits from his official "comeback" shows to his personal wardrobe. There's a few observations I'd like to make about that. From that choice we can get how serious Elvis took his artist status. According to close friends, EP liked to dress up even when he was at home, simply because when people looked at him, they were expecting to see "Elvis Presley, the King"... therefore, he didn't want to disappoint them by dressing poorly. Elvis was so careful with his image that even his smiles were calculated to cause a certain reaction on people. The other day I heard Priscilla, his ex-wife, answering questions from fans on her Instagram page. She was asked "Why you don't smile much in pictures?" Her answer was something like: "Probably because of something that Elvis said. He used to say not smiling would give you a sexier look in pictures." Anyway, The King would always dress to the nines, rather he was going to make music in recording studios, present himself to work in film sets in Hollywood, perform live, vacation in Hawaii or simply trying to unwind taking a well deserved "resting" time home in Memphis. That's fair game if you remember how Elvis often visited with the fans whenever he saw them. Regardless of the pauses between tours when he could take it easy and just relax, Elvis appreciated his fans' efforts in spending hours hanging outside his places, recording studios and so on. He knew and valued how they were sincere in their love, standing for hours under sun or rain in the open, hoping to catch a glimpse of him just casually walking, horseback riding or playing with his friends and family inside his properties grounds. It was not like he could escape candid photographers anyway so, at least he wanted to be portrayed in all his glory. Elvis was always the King, on and off stage, practically 24/7 - whenever he was awake. The boy from Tupelo turned into a indistinguishable public persona. Anybody could recognize him from miles away, specially in the 70s with his elegant wardrobe choices. Wearing the same suits he wore onstage, the same suits that were displayed in magazines and news attesting his imperious comeback in 1969, helped quite a bit in that matter, if you think about it. That makes the choice to bring some of the dark retired stage costumes into his daily life even more interesting. Now, the next pictures in which Elvis is seeing wearing the Herringbone suit off-stage, are quite fun. To think they are the most required pictures of Elvis Presley among the endless photographs taken of him from the 50s until the end of his lifetime! And, the whole point of this article is here. YES: the same suit debuting with Elvis onstage for his comeback season to live performances in 1969 was also with him inside the White House.

On December 21st 1970, Elvis Presley visited the President Nixon at the White House in Washington, D.C. This is one of the most famous stories involving famous characters in the U.S. History. Take a closer look at the pictures and you'll see that the second layer of clothes on Elvis' upper body is precisely the top of one of the Black Cossack suits. Can you see the herringbone pattern there?

SECRET REASONS FOR THE OUTFIT CHOICE?

AUTHORS NOTE [2]: I'm gonna ramble on the possible reasons for Elvis' attire choice that day in December 1970. None of this is factual, just a fan's speculation. I'm purely reading between lines here but I wanted to share my thought with you.

There are only two possibilities, friends: RANDOM OR CONCIOUS DECISION.

1° scenario: As we know, that wasn't a visit planned in advance. Elvis suddenly decided he wanted a Narcotics Agent badge so bad he would fly to Washington to try to get one. His personal life was a mess, his marriage was at the verge of ending and his father was all over him about what he considered a poor use of his fortunes, the way Elvis was spending his money at that time with lavish gifts to friends and random strangers sometimes too. He needed a win - and there he was on his way to Washington to get it. It's more reasonable to think there wasn't really a deep thinking on which outfit he would wear that day but, if that is the fact, we still have to think Elvis did think at least a bit of planing his outfit for the occasion. Remember how every account points to Elvis being extremely careful with his looks? Imagine Elvis picking his outfit that day. The most casual thought I can imagine him having is: "If the outfit is good enough for my comeback in Vegas, it is good enough for the White House." Period. He focused more on his speech to the President of United States than on his wardrobe choice and put his Nation's biggest authority in more or less the same level of importance of his own fans, which is cute - for us. Why would he dress better for the President than he dressed for his fans, right? They were everything to him and more, by all accounts. But there's the 2° possibility: The Black Two-Piece Herringbone suit combined with the Gold Attendance Belt actually meant something special to Elvis, as a kind of good luck charm, per say. Those pieces were not as any just another outfits in his wardrobe. They were involved in one of the most glorious moments of the then most recent part of his career. Perhaps they brought him some kind of energy, serving him as a confidence boost or something.

I think Elvis didn't do things by chance. He planned his moves. His outfit choices were not just a matter of being seen but, primarily, a matter of feeling confident in his own skin. Elvis used fashion purposefully... for instance, hiding his neck out of a personal insecurity with his body from his childhood years (which unintentionally created a fad with the high collars). Thus, it's reasonable to imagine that the outfit Elvis wore on December 21, 1970 combined with that special accessory was a conscious choice. The Gold Attendance Belt was an achievement award Elvis took pride from and were often after being seen with, and the Black Herringbone suit, practically identical to the one he opened the season at the International Hotel the year before, from which that special golden belt award would come resulting for his hard work and dedication to entertaining audiences, certainly marked a special day for him. Isolated as part of other outfit combinations those pieces don't look like hiding their intentions, but when put together maybe they brought Elvis a special energy that served as a mental reminder of who he was in a moment where self-confidence was extremely necessary to increase his persuasion tactics. I mean... Elvis had too many clothes, why wearing the Black Herringbone suit that day? By chance? Maybe he wore the exact suit to help him in that challenge ahead, like an armor serves a knight... sort of. A tool. I guess nobody would think it would be easy to convince the President of the United States that Elvis Presley was a law agent material other than just a remarkable musician, much less himself. I guess even the King needed something to make him believe in himself sometimes.

Again, just speculation. As far as we all know, the Black Herringbone suit was a random choice Elvis made on the day he met President Richard Nixon. The whole point of the article is pointing out he was wearing the suit there as he was on his comeback live performance in 1969.

There. Another layer of fun was added to that remarkable moment in the America History.

Just to explain better, in the pictures above Elvis is wearing the top of the second version of the Black Cossack suit. There is a difference between the two costumes, almost imperceptible at first glance. The second version of the costume had a small improvement in the stitching of the herringbone pattern on the chest area.

"The Black Cossack Top Two-Piece (2) is a black two-piece suit that initially appeared identical to the Black Cossack Top Two-Piece (1). However, upon closer inspection, notable difference becomes evident. The Herrinbone design in the chest for the second suit actually is stitched at the end of the chest to keep the garment from opening."

To end this article with another fun fact on Elvis' stage costumes, I could trace a parallel between the Herringbone suit with the time when Elvis did the opposite move with another of his outfits. Instead of bringing an outfit from the concerts into his street wear wardrobe, he took a casual outfit and brought it onstage with him. On August 19, 1975 in Las Vegas, the Two-Toned Street suit (AKA Penguin suit) made his debut and retirement from the stage lights at once. Rumors are Elvis was late for the concert and just walked into the stage with the suit he had on at the time. He had several different two-tones suits. The second picture below shows EP wearing that suit in a casual setting.

[changingplumbob]

How will the Yorks react to my plan to host a bachelorette challenge?

Deanna - Potential bachelorette Joey - Deanna's aromantic yet allosexual older brother Artemisia - Deanna's younger sister, has the evil trait Devin - 2 time Starlight Accolade winner for her acting career and Deanna's older sister Luna - Devin's wife, Deanna's sister in law Aaron - Deanna's pa (father) Calista - Deanna's ma (mother) Alfred & Rilian Villareal - Deanna's nephews

Joey: I assume you all know why I have gathered you here this evening

Artemisia: You contracted a WTD

Joey: What? No, we don't have the mods

Aaron: Look if you got someone pregnant we don't need all these theatrics

Devin: Excuse me pa? We always need theatrics

Joey: I didn't get anyone pregnant. This isn't about me, it's about Deanna

Deanna: Very funny

Joey: The watcher and I have decided you should star in a bachelorette challenge

Luna: Oh I love watching those! They're so romantic

Devin: Oh can I host? Please let me host!

Aaron: Cara your sister hasn't said yes to it

Joey: Let me give you my pitch. Tartosa is a perfect background for love. We invite a dozen or so ladies to come and get to know you Deanna, really know you. I think it could be a happily ever after for you

Deanna: I have university Joey

Devin: You have time between terms right? Oh please say yes De, my friend Norah would love to come help direct

Deanna: Aren't these things normally rather straight coded

Joey: In some dimensions, yes. But we live in a great world where homophobia is next to non existent

Devin: Except for Luna's dad, but he's not here now so its fine

Alfred & Rilian: RIP Jacques

Luna: *laughing* Wait- When did they learn to do that?

Artemisia: Ahhhh, Joey was talking

Joey: The point is we, the watcher and I, are bound to be able to find some women or non binary individuals who fit your tastes De. And we can get some family based challenges for them to compete in for extra time with you. Or get other celebrities or local businesses to feature

Calista: Oh we should ask the owners of Postres de Alegría! Maybe then I'll actually be able to get some of their pastries when I show up

Aaron: Tesoro you know if you want the raspberry tart you have to get there before midday. They can't not sell just because you might feel like a treat after your shift

Joey: If not Bob could help out, or he might know some people in Brindleton Bay who have niche interests we could use for a challenge or two

Aaron: I don't know that I like the idea of one of my bambina's pixel parts being on TV

Deanna: Yeah I second that opinion

Joey: We won't actually show any nudity, relax. Now Devin you can be host but I will obviously need to talk to any other watchers. Our watcher thinks it would be fun if they had some input about what skills their contestants would work on. If they don't she'll still need to know like orientations and official stuff

Luna: *sighs* Now you believe in multiple watchers?

Aaron: Joey has just always been rather devout

Deanna: I guess I am single...

Joey: You are

Deanna: And I'm definitely over Paris

Joey: Yes

Deanna: Reece will have to be allowed to do something or he'll pout

Joey: I can sort something. So, will you do it?

Deanna: Sure. I mean who doesn't want true love right?

I'm going to do it *internal screaming*! I'm going to start working on an intro post and some graphics so people know what the submissions need. Submissions will be open until Christmas but I'll push it out a week if needed. Ideally I would love to have households of six at a time, so I'll put slots up in groups of six as people show interest. I don't want to start off with 12 or 18 etc slots if I'll only get four sims. I'm realising a lot of my planning will need to know how many sims there are so I'll be opening up soon to help my brain.

Introductions, hosted by Devin, won't begin until mid January when most people are back from New Years holidays. So yeah, I was actually so nervous writing this all out, I need to calm down. Here's some basic Deanna info I'll put elsewhere to get the cogs in brains turning. This third child of an Italian family is studying physics with hopes of being an engineer but her main aspiration in life is Mansion Baron. She's a lesbian but I checked in game and sims with that orientation are able to flirt/form romantic attachments to non-binary people as well as cis or trans females.

[idioticbat]

i'm curious about something with your conlang and setting during the computing era in Ebhorata, is Swädir's writing system used in computers (and did it have to be simplified any for early computers)? is there a standard code table like how we have ascii (and, later, unicode)? did this affect early computers word sizes? or the size of the standard information quanta used in most data systems? ("byte" irl, though some systems quantize it more coarsely (512B block sizes were common))

also, what's Zesiyr like? is it akin to fortran or c or cobol, or similar to smalltalk, or more like prolog, forth, or perhaps lisp? (or is it a modern language in setting so should be compared to things like rust or python or javascript et al?) also also have you considered making it an esolang? (in the "unique" sense, not necessarily the "difficult to program in" sense)

nemmyltok :3

also small pun that only works if it's tɔk or tɑk, not toʊk: "now we're nemmyltalking"

so...i haven't worked much on my worldbuilding lately, and since i changed a lot of stuff with the languages and world itself, the writing systems i have are kinda outdated. I worked a lot more on the ancestor of swædir, ntsuqatir, and i haven't worked much on its daughter languages, which need some serious redesign.

Anyway. Computers are about 100 years old, give or take, on the timeline where my cat and fox live. Here, computers were born out of the need for long-distance communication and desire for international cooperation in a sparsely populated world, where the largest cities don't have much more than 10,000 inhabitants, are set quite far apart from each other with some small villages and nomadic and semi-nomadic peoples inbetween them. Computers were born out of telegraph and radio technology, with the goal of transmitting and receiving text in a faster, error-free way, which could be automatically stored and read later, so receiving stations didn't need 24/7 operators. So, unlike our math/war/business machines, multi-language text support was built in from the start, while math was a later addition.

At the time of the earliest computers, there was a swædir alphabet which descended from the earlier ntsuqatir featural alphabet:

the phonology here is pretty outdated, but the letters are the same, and it'd be easy to encode this. Meanwhile, the up-to-date version of the ntsuqatir featural alphabet looks like this:

it works like korean, and composing characters that combine the multiple components is so straightforward i made a program in shell script to typeset text in this system so i could write longer text without drawing or copying and pasting every character. At the time computers were invented, this was used mostly for ceremonial purposes, though, so i'm not sure if they saw any use in adding it to computers early on.

The most common writing system was from the draconian language, which is a cursive abjad with initial, medial, final and isolated letter shapes, like arabic:

Since dragons are a way older species and they really like record-keeping, some sort of phonetic writing system should exist based on their language, which already has a lot of phonemes, to record unwritten languages and describe languages of other peoples.

There are also languages on the north that use closely related alphabets:

...and then other languages which use/used logographic and pictographic writing systems.

So, since computers are not a colonial invention, and instead were created in a cooperative way by various nations, they must take all of the diversity of the world's languages into account. I haven't thought about it that much, but something like unicode should have been there from the start. Maybe the text starts with some kind of heading which informs the computer which language is encoded, and from there the appropriate writing system is chosen for that block of text. This would also make it easy to encode multi-lingual text. I also haven't thought about anything like word size, but since these systems are based on serial communication like telegraph, i guess word sizes should be flexible, and the CPU-RAM bus width doesn't matter much...? I'm not even sure if information is represented in binary numbers or something else, like the balanced ternary of the Setun computer

As you can see, i have been way more interested in the anthropology and linguistics bits of it than the technological aspects. At least i can tell that printing is probably done with pen plotters and matrix printers to be able to handle the multiple writing systems with various types of characters and writing directions. I'm not sure how input is done, but i guess some kind of keyboard works mostly fine. More complex writing systems could use something like stroke composition or phonetic transliteration, and then the text would be displayed in a screen before being recorded/sent.

Also the idea of ndzəntsi(a)r/zesiyr is based on C. At the time, the phonology i was using for ntsuqatir didn't have a /s/ phoneme, and so i picked one of the closest phonemes, /ⁿdz/, which evolves to /z/ in swædir, which gave the [ⁿdzə] or [ze] programming language its name. Coming up with a word for fox, based on the character's similarity was an afterthought. It was mostly created as a prop i could use in art to make the world feel like having an identity of its own, than a serious attempt at having a programming language. Making an esolang out of it would be going way out of the way since i found im not that interested in the technical aspects for their own sake, and having computers was a purely aesthetics thing that i repurposed into a more serious cultural artifact like mail, something that would make sense in storytelling and worldbuilding.

Now that it exists as a concept, though, i imagine it being used in academic and industrial setting, mostly confined to the nation where it was created. Also i don't think they have the needs or computing power for things like the more recent programming languages - in-world computers haven't changed much since their inception, and aren't likely to. No species or culture there has a very competitive or expansionist mindset, there isn't a scarcity of resources since the world is large and sparsely populated, and there isn't some driving force like capitalism creating an artificial demand such as moore's law. They are very creative, however, and computers and telecommunications were the ways they found to overcome the large distances between main cities, so they can better help each other in times of need.

[paxesoterica]

So! I know there's at least a few folks speculating on what additions will be included in Super Robot Wars Y's roster, but I think it would be interesting if a little methodology is applied to the process, like compiling data from akurasu.net into a mini-chart like the one below:

"Units Sans Series" means playable units not tied to an already existing storyline, either because the series is set post-epilogue (like Combattler V or Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam in SRW 30) or because the source has no storyline (like Mazinkaiser Infinitism in SRW 30).

I have not included data from the mobile games DD or X-Ω since they'd act as an outlier, but it should be noted that both games have debuted series that haven't been featured on consoles yet.

Based on the data from past series, there's a few trends from past iterations of the series that I think should be taken into consideration when making speculations:

The company that makes Super Robot Wars is a subsidiary of Bandai-Namco, and as far as I'm aware, that means they don't have to pay licensing fees to use Bandai-Namco's IP; as we can see from the graph above, every game (except maybe Z3.1?) has at least a plurality, if not outright majority, of B-N titles, and Y's roster continues this practice with half of it's currently announced titles: two Gundam series, a Code Geass film, and Aura Battler Dunbine.

Series debuts tend to be limited compared to returning series, but once a series has been introduced in a previous title, the development of gaming assets for that series means it's now cheaper to include it again at some point, barring licensing fees and other factors. The fact that Getter Robo Arc and Macross Delta The Movie: Passionate Walküre, for example, were previously introduced in mobile games means their assets could be refined from already existing material rather than made out of whole cloth.

Given the total series listed for previous games, we can probably expect the roster for Y to at least double. However, the number of entries can be deceptive: in previous games like SRW V, for example, Mobile Suit Crossbone Gundam, Full Metal Panic!, and the Rebuild of Eva films were counted as 3 or more entries each due to how their media is formatted, despite being a single storyline, and in SRW 30, Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) is counted despite its only contribution being a recreation of the RX-78-2 Gundam as Amuro Ray's starter unit and a single mission to Jaburo that involved fighting Z'Goks. This means Y could potentially include 'additional' series like Mobile Suit Gundam the Witch from Mercury Season 2, Macross Delta the Movie: Absolute Live!!!!!!, or other Code Geass films, or even side stories like Revenge of J Gundam or Vanadis Heart.

Every non-OG SRW game has included a Mazinger Z-related entry, and the only one that didn't include Koji Kabuto was SRW UX, which had Mazinkaiser SKL.

Not included in the data from akurasu.net, it should also be noted that series will sometimes get included as a result of various X-factors, such as the cross-promotion of a sequel or a new toyline, or as part of a business deal with another company. For example, Studio Khara, which made the Rebuild of Eva films, has been collaborating with Bandai on Mobile Suit Gundam GQuuuuuuX for several years now. It's extremely improbable that GQuuuuuuX would be included since, as of this writing, it hasn't premiered yet, but the last Eva film Thrice Upon a Time was completed back in 2021, and while it was too late to include in 30, the current working corporate relationship could be a factor in it getting included in Y. Another possibility might be the film Expelled from Paradise, which was previously introduced in SRW T, and has had a sequel announced for 2026.

One last note, there's been an interest in cultivating an international audience for Super Robot Wars for sometime, with V, X, and T receiving English translations despite not being officially released in regions like North America, and series like Cowboy Bebop being included in T specifically to cater to a potential U.S. audience. Titles that were more popular outside of Japan like The Vision of Escaflowne or The Big O or the like could be potentially included for that reason.

I don't know that these are actual rules that the company applies or anything, but previous patterns can be useful when predicting the future, so I think it's worth looking at.

Thank you for reading, and I would enjoy hearing feedback, especially from @anthurak, @rdmaaron, @possessedscholar, @589ish, or anyone else who's pretty knowledgeable about Super Robot Wars.

[geoffrard]

Now that @mcrswarmzine is out, I can finally share my contribution!

Gerard and Geoff give us a history lesson

Gerard Way and Geoff Rickly first met—where else—outside a record store in Kearny, New Jersey, weeks or months before MTV started regularly playing Geoff’s band Thursday, months or years before Geoff produced My Chemical Romance’s first record. Gerard was leaving the record store, and there was Geoff, leaning back against the wall, cool and collected, too thin, too young, unsure of himself.

“I remember it super vividly,” Gerard said in an interview once, when asked to recount their first meeting. “Do you remember?”

Back then, Gerard lived in Belleville in a basement apartment. Through the muggy darkness of his bedroom, his hand reached out towards the few strands of light that made it underground, wishing for better ways of making art. Geoff lived underground too, back then, coming alive when Thursday filled the unfinished basements of New Brunswick with people and sound.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—at the Eyeball House, where Eyeball Records conducted business. Gerard was an artist, reserved, looking to give back to the scene Geoff’s band had helped create. Eyeball’s owner helped connect them. The shirt Gerard designed for Geoff’s band featured a dove on each side, the front dove captured at the moment of shattering, the back a mechanical bird captured at the moment of dissection. A lever in the bird’s heart read revenge mechanism.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—at the Eyeball House, where Eyeball Records hosted infamous parties. The intern’s brother pulled Geoff aside, picked up a broken guitar, and painfully plucked out the opening chords to a song—Vampires Will Never Hurt You. Geoff was not impressed. He’d never tell Gerard that, though; the scene was for everyone who made music their home.

Gerard and Geoff first met—how else—because Mikey Way introduced them. Geoff heard of Mikey’s comic artist brother and begged for an introduction. Geoff wanted to write a comic book together. Gerard wanted to write a record. They made the record.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—in the crowd in a random basement in North Jersey, but neither remembered the encounter with enough clarity to recall it.

Gerard and Geoff met—where else—on the streets of New York, strangers brushing shoulders, exchanging glances, one rushing to a show he was too young to attend, the other dreaming of comic book worlds devised with his younger brother in his family’s dark basement apartment.

Perhaps Geoff Rickly and Gerard Way met—where else—in Jersey, on September 20, 2023, when each joined the other’s set for a song. That night was their first time sharing a stage as Geoff from Thursday and Gerard from My Chemical Romance, representing the bands who made them and created our corner of the music world, in almost twenty years.

How much of the crowd discovered their shared history that night? Can a single history exist, on stage in front of an arena of people with their own histories with those two bands, some dating back to first shows or records, some starting that night? Do artists exist off stage? If a band plays to an empty basement, is it a band?

Maybe, for me, Gerard and Geoff’s history began on Geoff’s birthday a few years ago, the day I met my best friend Nic. We met because we both loved My Chemical Romance but grew close because we loved Thursday. Our history is as intertwined with Geoff and Gerard and Geoff and Gerard’s histories are with each other’s. Music does that. Makes itself your home.

Only a few days before she returned home to Australia, Nic was there in Jersey, trying to stay on her feet in the churning mass of people in the crowd. I was at home, sick in bed, watching someone’s shaky livestream, squinting through the fever to see if I could spot her. I’d caught Covid the weekend before at a festival we attended together. The official story was that the My Chemical Romance crowd got me sick, but Nic had only just recovered herself after catching it in the crowd at a Thursday show. So I wondered if I’d caught it from her anyways. There are a few stories.

[pillowfort-social]

Happy New Year! We’re kicking off 2024 with a Community Update after a very eventful end of 2023. We’ll give you a look at what Staff have been doing behind the scenes, an update from our Developer Team, and a preview of what’s in store for the platform. Community Stats: 

As of January 19, 2024 Pillowfort currently has over 170,467 registered users and over 9,928 Communities. The rest of this post is under the cut.

In 2023 we have…

Avoided shutdown thanks to your generous support.

Launched Pillowfort Premium

Tested and launched Drafts 

Added new premium frames. 

Updated our Terms of Service.

Updated our Business Plan.

Continued work on the PWA & Queue.

Blocked ChatGPT Bots our platform.

Announced our upcoming policy on Generative AI.

Increased weekly invitations keys to from 10 to 50. 

Continued patching bugs. 

Welcome New Users!

Welcome to Pillowfort. We are so glad you are part of our community. If you haven’t yet, check out the Pillowfort101 Getting Started Guide.

Thank you for keeping Pillowfort Alive! 

Your support during the End of Year Fundraiser helped us avoid ending contracts with our Staff and averted the end of our platform for another six months (July 2024). We can not express our gratitude enough to you. This has been an extremely challenging and stressful time for each member of the team. We are going to work hard to keep Pillowfort online. You have motivated us to continue the fight to be a viable platform. You may have noticed that our donation bar has reset to $5,000 at the beginning of January. This number is our monthly operating costs going forward.  Each month in 2024 that we meet our funding goal it will extend Pillowfort’s life past July 2024. 

Generative AI Ban Policy Update

We will be implementing our updated policy regarding Generative AI in the next site update. Prior to when the policy will be implemented we will share with the community what our definition of Generative AI is and our moderation process. 

We're aware that there are concerns about how moderation systems surrounding generative AI have been abused and used for harassment on other sites: we have consulted with experts on how to avoid those issues, and the suite of moderation methods from international universities also assist with identifying harassment. Abuse of reporting systems will be taken seriously by Staff.

End of Year Fundraiser Limited Edition Badge Gift Form

The form for gifting the Limited Edition Badge to other users who couldn’t donate is now live! Click Here to Fill Out the Form. (Note: We’ll be also making a separate Staff Alert with the link as well.)

Updated Business Plan

The Pillowfort Premium subscription model remains our primary answer to generate the necessary funds needed to cover the costs of running our platform. We will continue to offer optional premium features which can be purchased by users a la carte. However, we will be working on completing the following major projects / updates as an expansion of our revenue strategy in the first half of 2024:

Release of the Progressive Web App w/ Push Notifications - The data is very clear that the lack of a mobile app is hindering our overall growth. A PWA will allow our mobile users to experience all the functionality of a native mobile app and will be much easier for our Developer Team to build & maintain than a native app. We also won't have to worry about App Store content restrictions.

Post Promotions & User-Submitted Advertisement Opt-Ins - Users will be able to promote their posts (as advertisements) by paying a fee. No subscription is required to promote a post. By default, this promoted content will only be displayed on a page specifically for viewing promoted content. While this will mean potentially less revenue, it is important to our philosophy to respect our user’s experience and not force advertising on everyone. However, users can opt into viewing promoted content in their home feed, and will receive a discount on premium features for doing so.

Subscription Gifting - Users will be able to purchase subscriptions that can be gifted to other users. Subscriptions can be gifted to a specific other user, or can be added to a communal pool for any unsubscribed users to take from. We will provide special badges for users who gift subscriptions.

Pillowfort Premium Price Increase - We will be adjusting prices to help us fund our overall operating costs. We will notify the community before any price increase is final.

Mobile Pillowfort Premium Frames - Add an option for mobile users to view Pillowfort Premium Avatar Frames in their feeds.

Other Goals for Completion in 2024 (Goals are subject to change)

Release Queue & Scheduling

Rebuild the post image uploader widget.

Rebuild the way notifications are logged & retrieved in the back-end to be more efficient & reduce errors.

Release an Onboarding Guide for new users.

Release Multi-account management/linking.

Add 2-Factor Authentication.

Enable Community Membership Applications.

Release Community Topics/Organization Options.

Help Us Keep the Lights On!

At Pillowfort we do not receive any funding from venture capital or other outside investors because we are committed to keeping our user experience a priority, and not being beholden to outside interests. While this approach allows us to stay true to our ideals and content guidelines, it also presents many challenges to our team in the form of limited resources, personnel, etc.

Our continued survival depends on the generosity of our community. If you are able to, please consider supporting us with a one-time or recurring monthly donation to help keep Pillowfort online. Any money donated to us now will be applied as a credit to your account when we release paid features & benefits in the future.

Bug Bounty Reminder

We are still offering a Bug Bounty. If you find a bug on the site, particularly one that could pose a threat to the security or functionality of the site, contact Staff through our Contact form or directly at info@pillowfort.social. If you are unsure if we received your report, you can send us a DM to the Staff account here, or DM one of our social media channels to check on the status. 

We sometimes do not receive all notifications from users on other social media. DMing the Staff account on Pillowfort to check on the status is the preferred method. 

The first individual to notify us of a certain issue will be eligible for monetary compensation, depending on the severity of the issue found and the information provided.

Abandoned / Modless Communities Transfer 

We are taking Ownership Transfer requests for Abandoned and/or Modless Communities. The form is available here. 

Pillowfort Dev Blog

Follow our very own Developer Blog for the latest updates from Lead Architect & Founder Julia Baritz.

Follow Us on Social Media

Interact with Pillowfort Staff, ask questions, plus learn about upcoming features and more on social media. 

Pillowfort: Staff Pillowfort Dev: PF_dev_blog Bluesky: pillowfortsoc.bsky.social Tiktok: pillowfort.social Instagram: pillowfort.social Facebook: Pillowfortsocial X/Twitter: @pillowfort_soc Tumblr: pillowfort-social Reddit: pillowfort_social Threads: @pillowfort.social

Best,

Pillowfort Staff

[outlanderanatomy]

2024 SiWC Panel with Diana Gabaldon

Greetings Outlander fans! My, I have missed you all… 🤗

This weekend I find myself in beautiful Surrey, British Columbia,  Canada, attending the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, more commonly known as SiWC!

I drove from Oregon to Canada lastThursday. It was a beautiful day but the  normally 5.5 hr drive turned into nearly 7 hours due to two collisions in Washington state.  Yes, it was an inconvenience for those on the freeway, but I was grateful to arrive safely and I hope those involved in the crashes are OK.

Thus far, I have attended several events featuring Diana – she is one busy lass! All were delightful and I will share them with you, but not in chronological order mostly due to the technical issues of posting via  iPad. 😉

Today’s event was titled “Compelling Expositions,” a panel featuring Diana Gabaldon, Michael Slade, Robyn Harding, and Darren Groth (not shown).  K. C. Dyer moderated (also not shown).

Diana looked stunning, layered with in a deep red shawl because the room was freezing! 🥶

Many fruitful topics were covered by the panel. Here are some highlights including Diana’s responses:

Question:  Which is your fav scene from your writings? Diana chose the scene from “Outlander” book wherein Jamie rescues Claire from Black Jack Randall’s clutches. They shelter at a tavern –  Jamie tells Claire he is not ready for bed and proceeds to whip her with his sword belt. This set up a major clash between the two characters because each POV was justified from their perspective. Claire was trying to find a way back to Frank but Jamie knew her actions put all of their lives  in danger. I must confess, this choice surprised me. I suppose because Diana has written so many splendid scenes. How would one even choose? 🤔

This is wee bit of the excerpt from the scene (pp. 249-250 “Outlander” Kindle version) that is Diana’s fav!

“Come to bed, Jamie. What are you waiting for?”

He came to stand by the bed, swinging the belt gently back and forth.

“Well, lass, I’m afraid we’ve a matter still to settle between us before we sleep tonight.” I felt a sudden stab of apprehension.

“What is it?” He didn’t answer at once. Deliberately not sitting down on the bed by me, he pulled up a stool and sat facing me instead.… 😯

Question: How do you deal with pacing? Diana responded that pacing depends on context. For example, if there is an emergency then the writer wants to keep sentences short and terse. Pacing allows the author to create tension between two elements. A question is raised and then answered to move the story forward. (Psst…. She didn’t mention that sometimes the answers to questions she raises don’t get resolved until two books and ten years later!) 😂

Question: How do you deal with slang or dialect? Diana feels dialogue is the most important way to define a character.  An author using another language (e.g. Gaelic) needs to educate themself in the language. She watched films with Scottish characters to hear their spoken English. At conferences, if she heard anyone speaking with a Scottish accent, she invited them for coffee and listened to them speak. Diana also recommended reading books written by someone who speaks the language. She read several Scottish authors to help her get a feel for syntax, cadence, etc. Frankly, her devotion to her craft is a splendid example to all aspiring authors. 🥰

Question: Do you plan out a chapter or scene ahead of time? Diana does not. We already know she doesn’t write in a straight line. She also does not tell her characters what to say or do. She waits patiently for them to speak to her.  This being my fourth SiWC, I can tell you hers is a unique approach. Most writers I encounter plan out scenes, many even work from  a classic outline. She also doesn’t know ahead of time how a book will end. I guess the one exception here is that she seems to know how the “Outlander” books will end. Sob! 😢

Question: Who is your favorite author. James Clavell, she answered without a moment’s hesitation.  Clavell authored the marvelous, “Shogun,” for those who might not know. Although it has been some time since I read it, it is well worth doing so. 👍🏻

These were highlights of the panel for me.

The full panel discussion can be accessed on the blog.

I hope you enjoyed the panel. Need I say, my fav author for “Compelling Exposition” is none other than Diana Gabaldon? 🤩 🥇 🏆

The deeply grateful,

Outlander Anatomist

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Photo and audio credits: Outlander Anatomy