#i am physically incapable of keeping these things short

[shunsuiken]

I JUST CAN’T LEAVE YOU ALONE, CAN WE GET EVEN CLOSER?

pairing. kamisato ayato x gn!bodyguard!reader

genre. fluff for the most part + does get suggestive tho 😁

synopsis. the yashiro commissioner resorts to a scandalous method to get your attention.

wc. 1.5k (i know its short but i wanted to get straight to the point LMAO)

an. guys this is so dumb but one thing that popped up in my head while writing this is that tiktok of that girl going i slowly started to be seducted by him like he’s trying to SEDUCE me 😭😭😭 omg that shits so fuckin funny

“you’re too far away, y/n.”

your eye twitches as you stare at the wooden door. he’s teasing you. a filthy load of shamelessness drips in his tone. an arm rises so he can relax his cheek in his palm, eyeing your figure that has been standing in front of the door this whole time.

you realise why he’s decided to open his mouth after five minutes of dead silence.

you’re not looking at him.

“y/n, i said you’re too far away.” his voice is louder this time. it sounds closer to a command.

“i am standing at an appropriate distance from you, my lord.” you’re staring laser beams into the door at this point. “feel free to attend to your bathing requirements independently.”

ayato scoffs. a shiver crawls up your spine.

“it was my understanding that you, my personal bodyguard, were informed about the injuries i sustained during the failed fatui assassination attempt.” drawing circles in the water with the tip of his index finger, he sighs, “sadly, my current physical state renders me incapable of attending to my bathing requirements.”

“so i would be most grateful for your assistance.” you can practically see the grin on his lips, devilish and scheming.

before ayato picks up the bathing cloth, you’ve already given in, practically attaching your eyes to the bathtub as you sit on the stool provided for you. taking the cloth, you dip it in the water to soak it up before gently gliding it across his shoulders with shaky hands.

“ah, there we go. now wasn’t that easy?” ayato turns his face towards you, now showing more of his naked back—wet and glistening in all its glory.

you feel you might faint.

you hum in agreement, holding onto that blasted bathing cloth for dear life. ayato seems to notice and turns his whole body towards you out of curiosity, but your head snaps in the other direction instead!

“y/n, how will you help me bathe if you’re facing that way?” you can hear the water splash around the stone material of the tub. it drips down the side, slowly sliding towards the stone floor.

you’re his bodyguard. you’re his bodyguard. this wasn’t part of the job description—so why are you even here?!

“my lord, i find it difficult to provide assistance if you keep moving,” you respond indifferently, maintaining some level of professionalism despite how this situation has broken all levels of it.

from the corner of your eye, you can vaguely see his hair sticking to his collarbones and shoulders. ayato knows you can see him like this. so there’s simply no point in acting such a way. but he laughs, humoured by your behaviour anyway. “oh please drop the formalities. i am merely an injured man before you.”

a naked, injured man. you correct him silently.

“mm.” you don’t really know what else to say. how were you supposed to explain any of this to anybody if they caught you leaving the bathing hall with him?!

you soak up the wash cloth once more, beginning to clean him up again. avoiding all eye contact and opportunities of skinship turns out to be much more difficult than you thought. however, when it’s time to clean his chest area, you wordlessly pass the cloth back to him.

“hm?” he looks at you. “what about over here?” he asks, pointing at his chest shamelessly.

you gape at him—oh, you’re finally looking at him now. and you wish you didn’t.

ayato is so utterly gorgeous. cheeks dusted in a shade of pink from the steam and his lips, moistened and sanguine. he would have been recognised as a deity were it not for his mortal disposition.

ayato rather takes pleasure in this look on your face. baffled, stunned, dumbfounded—this list could go on! what he finds interesting though, is that your eyes never seem to go past his shoulders. and, ayato, being quite fond of his cute and adorable bodyguard, has to tease you.

“this is as far as i will go,” you inhale, feeling like your mask of indifference will crumble within seconds. “my lord, it would be inappropriate for me to assist you in this area.”

ayato’s brows raise in excitement, revelling in how you try to stay professional. you’re doing a much better job than he would’ve expected—if it were anybody else, they would have been seduced right away.

but it’s you that the lord is playing with. and he intends to play with you until he is satisfied.

“but you’ve already come this far, why not do the rest while you’re at it?” your bottom lip quivers.

ayato figures that he’ll need to try something else to get your attention to where it needs to be.

you gasp when he takes your hand in his, gently pulling you towards him until you’re sitting on the edge of the stone tub. your uniform is dampened as you sit on the edge but you can care less when ayato peers up at you with those lavender eyes.

“m- my lord, what do you intend to do?” you curse yourself silently for stuttering. the vapour from the bath water makes your cheeks hot and sticks your hair to your forehead.

kind of looks like you could use a bath too. ayato makes a brief comment in his mind, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he ponders on a response.

“get in the bath with me.”

a moment passes by. you swear you have never heard a more ridiculous request than this. for the past few years you’ve dealt with his unique appetite, his clothing requirements and his… special personality but this request is the first one that renders you speechless.

“what?”

“get in the bath with me,” ayato repeats, firmer this time.

you’ve lost feeling in your legs ever since he took your hand, but it’s not long before you’re soaked in bath water—with ayato there to soften the fall as your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders. you land with an oompf, fingers wiping droplets on your face, unfortunately missing the biggest grin on your boss’ lips.

“there, that was not so difficult, was it?” his voice is much closer by your ear now, sending a wave of chills down your spine.

you hesitantly meet his eyes, behind those pretty lashes and soft sky blue hair that clings to his forehead and cheeks. “wasn’t,” you mutter as your gaze shakes in your stare. you fear that if you tear your eyes away from him again he’ll do something else even more ridiculous.

the water swooshes and you fall onto your butt when ayato finds himself on top of your lap. you can feel his thighs just gently pressing against your own which is making you wonder how you haven’t already lost consciousness.

but it’s also making you think about things you never would’ve thought you would think about.

is ayato, your employer, trying to seduce you?!

you try to think of something to say. anything. doesn’t matter how random it could be. you inhale sharply, “so did you actually have work to do or did you just want me to loiter around you?”

“not to ‘loiter’,” ayato chuckles at your word choice while you think you’ve heard heaven’s gates fly right open. “but to ‘accompany’. i did indeed have work to complete but such a mind-numbing task becomes more bearable with you around.” he traces your cheek with the pad of his thumb, palm just ghosting over your ear. “do you know how adorable you look when you’re sitting by the door with that straight look on your face?”

“that is my job, my lord.” you don’t lean away from his touch. a good sign for him. “i didn’t think i would be such a distraction, if you would like, i could relocate just outsi-”

it’s featherlight. barely even a kiss. just a gentle brush of his lips over yours. but that miniscule feeling is like a fire and it burgeons in your chest, melting away the cold iceberg of your doubts and worries. there is no turning back now. it’s like your hand has grown a mind of its own when it wraps around ayato’s neck, pulling him closer so his lips collide with yours again.

“oh dear,” ayato mutters lowly. his hair tickles your cheek. “are my feelings being reciprocated?”

your lips are like magnets to his. it makes you grin at the revelation of your own emotions. “i fear you’ve successfully seduced me, my lord.” ayato smiles as your gaze flickers between his eyes and lips.

being caged between his arms has to be considered some sort of sport for your heart. the last time it threatened to leap out of your chest like this was during the official selection of ayato’s bodyguards.

“that makes a fine headline for the steambird, don’t you think?” ayato keeps his lips close to yours, doing everything he can in his power to not crash his lips onto yours again. and so pathetically too. “‘bodyguard allegedly seduced by the yashiro commissioner’.”

“indeed. now wouldn’t that shake things up here in inazuma,” you laugh, cupping your hands in the water to pour over what you can onto his shoulders. “well now that you’re all cleaned up, don’t you think you should get ready for bed?”

ayato gives you a pointed look. “will you dress me?”

“i-” you shouldn’t even pretend like you’re surprised by this. nodding your head, you reassure him, “that can be arranged.”

[wandering-winchesters]

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them. 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply. 

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again. 

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer. 

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior. 

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough. 

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does. 

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic. 

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset. 

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response. 

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him. 

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed. 

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M.  I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up. 

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out. 

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious. 

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker. 

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me. 

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation. 

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface. 

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us. 

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite. 

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful. 

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut. 

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. 

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly. 

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay. 

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target. 

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond. 

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“ 

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again. 

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again. 

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me. 

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace. 

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away. 

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh. 

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance. 

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock. 

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker. 

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms. 

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door. 

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me. 

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

hey! do you have any tips for running more? i have a love-hate relationship with it

YES!

I used to DESPISE running SO HARD. I've been running for seven years now, off and on (a LOT more off than on lol), but its only been in the last ten months that I really and truly have fallen in love with it!

Number one tip is to get a running app, really and truly! They're great for getting training plans to run to, holding you accountable, and tracking your progress! Seriously, it is SO AWESOME to get to see your stats improve over time, its so rewarding and wonderful! I've never personally used it, but my mom uses Nike Run Club, which she highly reccomends, so if you're looking for a simple, streamlined one to start with, go take a look at that!

btw have you heard of this special one called Zombies, Run!? Its a running app that is also an immersive audio drama that makes you feel like the main character in a video game and has singlehandedly gotten me from despising running to loving it- Oh, you have? okay then.... i mean,,,, if youre interested,,, i have an entire sideblog for it,,,, you could send me some asks about it,,,, i'd love to comply...

But seriously ZR has changed my life, I'm being totally serious here. I could elaborate if you'd like, but long story short, I am in the best physical and mental shape of my life bc of this silly zombie app with blorbos in it, so yeah, never gonna stop talking about it lol.

But the reason why that works, is that it makes running fun! Because lets all be honest, running for more than three minutes on a treadmill with no stimulation at all and nothing to think about besides the fact that you're running and that sucks is the WORST. And doing it outside is better because you're actually going somewhere and see things, but its still monotonus and then you're just lasered in on the 'running is horrible' part after a bit longer.

ZR is utterly brilliant because you are physically incapable of being bored while playing it lol. You're not running a mile away from your house then a mile back, you're charging through the streets of an abandonded city, holding a life-saving cure, your best friend in your headset imploring you to keep going as zombies approach, while having the survival of your fellow runner depend on you as they limp from their injury. It is THRILLING and takes your mind off of what you are doing.

BUT MOVING AWAY FROM ZR NOW FINALLY (sorry i really am obsessed)--

It works because you aren't thinking about running. So that's the cheat code, figure out how to run without thinking about what your body is doing and how it feels icky sometimes. You've gotta learn to be very motivated but then also INCREIDIBLY disciplined in order to stick to it. Find some music that makes you feel like you're in a superhero movie (I have some recs if you'd like!!), find a podcast that is super interesting on a topic that you adore, even go running with friends and talk to them about fandom stuff while running!

Find tools to take your mind off of it that works most of the time, and the in the small fraction of the time where you still don't want to do it, learn the discipline to follow through anyway.

But also, I've found that the main reason running stinks, at least at first, is your body isn't used to it. Really! Whether you haven't worked out in your entire life ever, or if you are considered one of the fittest people on the planet in like swimming or something, running is SUPER hard and super terrible at first because you aren't used to it! Even if you are super fit and healthy, the hard cardio and movement that running requires is just very different from everything else! So anyone getting into running ever should NEVER feel bad about themselves when they're just starting! Because it is a seperate and unique thing in its own category that is special and different! It is scientifically proven that it takes 6-10 weeks of running 10-20 miles a week before your body adjusts and then you're used to it.

But guess what? One day, you're going to be running, and suddenly realize that it is magic. You'll realize that you don't have to stop to walk when you usually do- you can go longer than you have before. You'll realize that wait, you can go faster now! Your pace is faster! And then you'll feel a rush of adrenaline and endorphins and oh! THIS is what they mean when they say runners high! You understand why its called is the healthiest addicting drug in the world now! You'll realize that you have a huge smile breaking out on your face and the scenery is gorgeous, even if its in a dark smelly gym, because you're doing it- you're running! And you love it.

Anyone reading this, please give running a good, earnest shot. Lace up your shoes three or four days a week and go jog two or three miles. Keep at it for two months. It'll be a hard two months. But it'll be so so worth it. Just try. What have you got to lose?

Running is magic, and now I'll never give it up.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The debate that's older than I am.

That being; "Eowyn's cooking is awful enough to kill grown men, or is Rohan's cultural food that strange to foreners?"

So, I'm curious what you think a regular meal is like in Edoras for one. I live in Midwestern America, and a staple is plain but calorie rich food to keep you full longer and to deal with the cold better, and sometimes I wonder if Rohan could be the same way. Of course, making outsiders not used to such a "strange" diet.

But it could also go the other way that people in Edoras (especially Eowyn) do not know what a nice meal looks like, and will continue to cook horrors for generations to come.

Do you have any thoughts? :).

Ah, the Éowyn stew scene….one that I would have on my short list to “discuss” with Sir Peter if the opportunity ever came to pass!

I think if you accept that scene as canonical, then the only thing you can reasonably infer from it is that Éowyn never learned how to cook. (And why should she? From the time that she was 7, she was living in the king’s own household with only him, Théodred and Éomer as family. They had staff for cooking, and she probably would have been shooed out of the kitchens even if that was a place she wanted to be!) 

Anyone who wants to go from there to the idea that Rohirrim food is bad overall or that they’re making things that are so culturally distinct and unusual that their food is off-putting to outsiders is certainly welcome to make that their HC, though I don’t personally see it that way. And I think the books back me up — there are *several* scenes with large groups of people from across Middle Earth taking meals in Rohan, and nowhere in any of them is even a single whisper of a hint that there’s anything strange or unpleasant about the Rohirrim food.

Geographically speaking, a lot of Rohan does seem like the American midwest or central plains — lots of open, grassy land, a full four seasons of weather, landlocked but with rivers. They had wild boar and probably deer and rabbits, since those were in the surrounding lands. They raised “herds,” which probably meant horses but could have also been cows. They had lots of farms — Saruman’s troops burned a bunch on their way to Helm’s Deep! — and could have grown all kinds of grains and produce that are appropriate for that climate (Aragorn says parts of Rohan are only 60 leagues south of the Southfarthing, though much further east, so perhaps their growing options wouldn’t have been all that different from the Shire, at least outside of the mountainous areas!). They could have fished in the rivers. 

So they’d have had access to lots of different types of ingredients, none of which are especially unusual either here or in-universe. And I don’t see any reason why the cooks of Rohan would be uniquely inept or incapable of using those ingredients to make things that were good! I happen to agree with your characterization — a lot of Rohan isn’t *fancy* or *cosmopolitan* so they’re not making really elaborate, complicated cuisine with a capital C, but they’d have things that were hearty and filling and would keep you on your feet for long days of physical work. And that doesn’t have to mean lacking in flavor or skill! And then, of course, there are also plenty of royals and nobility in Rohan, and they could have easily had fancier, more sophisticated food since they’d have resources to get the best ingredients and full-time staff to handle just food preparation.

So that’s my thought! It seems like you and I are probably on the same page here, though certainly let me know if you’ve got other ideas and opinions — I am *always* happy to hear them! And thanks for asking!

[charon-cries]

Gently: as a cisguy under 5’6 who has been described as “scary as fuck” and is fully capable of breaking things and fighting, may I suggest that you unpack why you assume that someone using physical intimidation or being aggressive is going to be larger and very (by Western standards) masculine in appearance instead of accusing your fellow fans of being racist. For making a guy short. You don’t need to post this, just maybe mull it over.

hello?? first, you don't have to be racist to do or say racist things. i'm not accusing anyone of being anything when i'm pointing out that this obviously well-meaning fanbase may have accidentally done something offensive by relying on racial stereotypes to flesh out their visual library in character design. if you have an issue with me pointing out potential racial biases i've observed then, gently, you have stuff to unpack, not me.

second, i literally never said that he couldn't be scary and intimidating while also being short. i AM a short guy, shorter than you, and have been described as intimidating on multiple occasions after meeting people in person, including by people twice my age. i'm not a stranger to the concept of a short guy being scary, and i never once said that short guys can't be scary, or that parker cannot be short.

the issue is that i've seen so much art where he is shorter than you or i, AND thin, and looks completely incapable of doing the things he's described as being able to do. once again, i do not care when people give him an "average" build. my issue lies solely with making him, as i said, "pocket-sized when compared to arthur."

if someone made him 5'6" and physically capable, great! i literally don't care. but i've seen people draw him so small that i have genuinely mistaken him for a CHILD at first glance. i am talking Half of Arthur's Height. based on your ask, i'm assuming you haven't seen this art, because it's a far cry from a character design who looks short and strong.

it is the fandom's job to make itself welcoming to minorities, and this happens in every single fandom. every single fandom engages with racist stereotypes, it's just the reality of living in a world where racism is this normalized. respectfully, it is our responsibility to point these things out, it is our responsibility to think through these biases and ask ourselves WHY we think the asian guy is the tiniest one in the cast, and whether that's a depiction worth keeping. i stand by my observation.

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Cold As Ice - The Interview

Here my fic for the May AU event for the HRPF fandom. As usual I am late getting it done. Apparently, I am physically incapable of writing a short blurb.

This a mafia AU. @pattiemac1 and I have created this AU together over the last two/three years. We add to it then take things away constantly. She graciously allowed me to insert my characters of Lex and Teddy (from Journey to the Emerald City) into the world.

This is a little glimpse into the world of a Sidney Crosby led mafia family and Teddy/Lex became a part of it. I don't think it needs much warning other than language and some implied violence. As usual fluff abounds between my two little cupcakes.

I will put a link at the bottom for anyone interested about Teddy/Lex in their world.

Word count - 7.1K words

@hrpffandomeventblog @cellythefloshie @fallinallincurls @penstxgal1968

SUMMER 2021 - DALLAS, TEXAS

Jamie “Lex” Oleksiak yawned as drove down the expressway toward home. It had been a rough night at the club. Three guys had called off and so he was forced to work at the front door. Between the oppressive heat and steady wave of SMU sorority girls shooting their shot with him, he was more than ready to get home. He mentally pictured the refrigerator and recalled at least two bottles of cold beer that he would be drinking soon. 

His cell phone rang and he glanced at the notification on his console screen. “Of course Seggy would call at 3 AM,” he thought to himself. He answered the call at the last moment. “Hey Seggy,” he said, “What’s up?”

Tyler Seguin held his cell phone to his ear and unbuttoned his shirt. “You are a tough guy to track down, Big Rig,” the brunette laughed, “I had to call three different guys to get your number. It’s like you dropped off the face of the planet.You still in Dallas?” 

“Yeah, still in here in Big D,” he muttered, feeling stung by the word still. It was not his plan to still be in Dallas. No, he had planned to return to Toronto with this tail tucked between his legs years ago. But life got in the way and his career began in security. He had almost saved enough to make the move back with a little dignity when he was struck by a thunderbolt. A thunderbolt named Theodora “Teddy” Baxter. 

Ironically, they met the last time that he had been forced to work the front door at the club. The moment she looked up with those bright blue eyes and megawatt smile as she handed over her ID, he was hooked. For reasons still unknown to him, she had agreed later that night to go on date with him. They had been inseparable ever since and any plans to move back to Toronto went out the window. His heart was firmly planted in Dallas. Well, anywhere she was. 

“What’s keeping you there?” Seggy questioned, “I thought you would have moved onto greener pastures by now. I know I did.” 

“It’s complicated,” Lex answered vaguely.

Seggy got quiet for  a moment and debated whether to push the issue. Big Rig was not known to be an open book and he needed him to have an open mind. “I got ya. Life’s like that sometimes,” he commented casually, “Listen, you still doing security work? That’s the word on the street.”

“Depends on who is asking,” Lex answered coolly. Other than his parents, he had not admitted to any of his Toronto friends that his professional hockey career had been a bust. 

“It’s me asking - it’s me,” Seggy answered. He had picked up on the tone in Big Rig’s voice. They shared in a desire to not let word of their career failure reach Canada. They had that much in common. 

“And why are you asking?” Lex asked warily. 

“Because I have a lead on a job and I think that you would be a good fit.” he said bluntly. Tyler tried to mask the desperation in his voice. 

The last guy that was brought into the crew turned out to be an utter disaster. Claude Giroux had been recommended to the crew by Flower and didn’t take long to discover that he wasn’t going to last long. His gruff demeanor ruffled the sensitive egos of the rag tag crew. The last straw was when he openly defied The Boss. It was so bad that HE delivered the permanent pink slip to the back of Giroux’s head himself. 

“Tell me more,” Lex asked. 

Tyler explained that the job would be head of security for the CEO for Maritime Industries. When Lex didn't respond immediately, Tyler read from his phone. “Planning and implementing comprehensive security strategies, controlling the security operations budget, monitoring expenses,” he rattled on.

“Seggy, are you reading that off your phone?” Lex interrupted.

“Ummmm, no” Seggy stammered.

“Don't bullshit me. What's the job?” Lex asked.

“It’s a crew in Pittsburgh- mainly strip clubs and a few night clubs,” Seggy sighed, “and a few extracurricular activities.” Tyler tried to downplay the extent of the organization until he got a sense of how comfortable Lex would be with the ethically gray area. 

“Seggy…..we are not 21 any more,” Lex asserted, “I’m too old to go back to that petty ass shit.” 

“Big Rig, would you believe me if I told you that Sid is planning on going legit?” Tyler pleaded, “We really need a guy like you.” 

“Sid?” Lex questioned, “Like Sid Crosby? That guy runs all of Pennsylvania and half of NYC. Holy shit - Seggy how did you end up on that crew.”

“Long story, but let’s just say that my hockey skills finally paid off,” Tyler smiled, “Seriously, he is going legit soon. The pay is good and there are bennys.” 

“How good is the pay?” Lex quizzed.

“Let’s just say that my family isn’t questioning my “hockey” career anymore,” he replied. 

“Shit - that good?” Lex muttered as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. He looked up and saw the light on his living room. Teddy was waiting for him. Teddy who had never gotten so much as a parking ticket, much less arrested. “No,” he thought to himself, “I can’t bring her into that life.” He sighed, “Sorry, Seggy. I can’t.”

“Why?” Tyler whined. Sid wasn’t too happy that he was having to handle the day to day security operations and you know what they say, that shit ran down hill to Tyler. He needed to get someone to replace Giroux. He needed that someone right now. 

“Sorry, Segs - I gotta girl now. I don’t want to mess it up,” Lex said softly. 

“You’re turning down this dream job over a girl? Are you crazy?” Tyler scoffed.

“Yeah, I am crazy,” Lex sighed, “I just can’t risk losing her.” 

“I gotta meet this girl,” Tyler pushed before he decided that a softer touch was required, “I get it. Not really, but I get it. Why don’t you take a night and think about it. I can hold off Sid for that long.”

“I doubt I will change my mind, Seggy,” Lex countered, “She is the real deal.”

Lex hung up the phone and walked up to his apartment. He set his things down as he walked past the cramped kitchen. It was really just a glorified studio, but Teddy had done her best to make it homey. She had even started a new series on her YouTube channel - DIY Dollar Tree home decor. 

As if by unknown force, Teddy began to rouse when she felt Lex’s presence in the room. She had fallen asleep with her laptop open while editing videos. “Lex?” she yawned as she stirred, “Is it that time?” 

He walked over to her and moved her laptop to the table before scooping her into his lap. “Yeah,” he kissed her cheek as she curled her body into his chest. “How was work?” he questioned. 

Since the “Great Escape”, Teddy had taken two jobs to replace the income from her father’s real estate firm. Even with that, the duo struggled to make ends meet.  She had grown up with every luxury known to man and gave it all up two months ago to be with him after her father had issued the ultimatum. She had to pick between her family and her love. She made the choice in an instant and never looked back. Now she was waitressing at the best steakhouse in town at night and nannying for Stars goalie Ben Bishop during the day. She operated on fumes but never once complained. 

“Work was good. I had a private party so the tip was great, even the company was horrible,” she smiled. Lex furrowed his brow while she continued  “Paige came in and was well, you know, Paige,” she sighed, “Thank God for automatic gratuity. She might have stiffed me otherwise.” Lex studied her face and could see her desperately trying to keep the facade up but he could see the pain behind her eyes. Paige had been her childhood best friend but had turned her back on Teddy when she chose him after her family’s ultimatum. 

“Foz,” he said gently as he caressed her face. She smiled at the nickname he had given on their first date. It had started out as “Fozzy Wozzy Bear had red hair”, but had shortened over time to just Foz.

She shook her head to protest and shake the negative thoughts that were beginning to swirl in her brain. “No, Lex - it’s fine,” she lied, “She’s not important and I am glad that I could see her true colors finally.” She had seen the true colors of most of her childhood friends as one by one they dropped her. “It’s funny,” she thought to herself, “None of them had anything to say as they ignored the obvious signs that Chaz was beating me. But let me fall in love with a good, decent man who works hard and all of a sudden they are all concerned about my well-being.” The bitterness rose up inside of her. 

Her mind raced for a distraction. “I have a surprise for you!’ she jumped up and his eyes followed her. She came back with a to-go bag from the restaurant. He pulled out the box and opened it. Inside was a huge tomahawk steak with all the trimmings. He looked up to see her beaming smile, “They said it was overcooked because they wanted it super rare, but it’s cooked just like you like it, so I snagged it.” 

She moved to the side of him as he ate off of his lap. They enjoyed the moment in quiet contentment as Lex’s mind raced. “How long?” he asked himself, “How long can I ask her to make these sacrifices? How long before she runs back to the easy life. The life I can’t give her.”

His thoughts were interrupted with her voice, “Spill it, Jamieson.” She only used his full name when she was completely serious. 

“An old friend called with a job offer,” he started. Her face lit up immediately. “But it’s in Pittsburgh,” he interjected, expecting her face to drop. It did not. “And it’s not necessarily completely above board.” Again, he expected her expression to change, but it was bright and hopeful. “I told them no,” he said finally. “Why?” she questioned.

“I can’t leave you,” he answered. 

“Then take me,” she replied as if it was the obvious answer. 

“You would go? You would go to Pittsburgh? But Dallas is your home,” he said in disbelief.

“My home is with you, Love,” she kissed his cheek.

“And it doesn't bother you that there may be some shady shit?” he prodded.

“There is shady shit going on everywhere, even the corporate world. There is a reason my father has a security detail. You don’t become a billionaire without doing some shady shit and making a few enemies along the way. What's the difference? The real question is would you take the job if I weren’t a factor?”

“I would at least go have the conversation,” he answered,

“Then go have the conversation,” she kissed his cheek.

Lex picked up the phone and dialed Seguin. He only spoke three words when Tyler answered, “Set it up.” Then he hung and focused on Teddy, “Tell me about Paige. What did she do this time? Do I need to go pay her a visit”  He tickled her sides and nipped at her neck. “I can be your enforcer, Foz. Just say the word.” 

TWO DAYS LATER 

“Foz” Lex asked as she adjusted his tie on the private plane Crosby had sent for them, “Where did you find this suit? I am not buying the Goodwill story.” The odds have her randomly finding a tailored suit that fit his almost six eight frame was slim to none.

“I acquired it. That's all you need to know,” she grinned. 

Lex opened the suit jacket and saw the label with the words “Custom made for RTB”. He looked up at her in surprise. “Is this your dad's suit? Did you steal a suit from your dad?” Their height was about the only thing he had in common with the stubborn, prideful man. 

“Steal is such a harsh word,” she answered as she brushed imaginary lint off of his chest. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised,”it's an old suit. It was languishing in the back of his closet. I am pretty sure he wore it to my confirmation. We are giving it new life.”

“You stole it, Foz,” he teased.

“Well, think of me as modern day Robin Hood,” she teased as she pulled on his tie to kiss him, “And you can be me Maid Marian.”

His eyebrows furrowed in sign of disapproval. “What? You would look good as Maid Marian,” she protested before continuing, “I simply tested the supposedly top notch security system at my parent's house. I was doing them a service actually. They should be thanking me that I only took a suit as payment. It could have been worse.”

“Put it back once we get home,” he chided. 

“Fine, but Lex, I don’t think you are going to be up for the level of shady shit working for Sid Crosby is going to require if you can’t accept one re-acquisitioned suit from my father,” she playfully pouted. 

“I am the only criminal in this relationship. You are the virtuous one with the heart of gold, got it?” he said. He cracked a smile, but the message was clear - leave the shady shit to him. 

“Got it,” as she adjusted his tie, “Now let’s go knock him dead.”

Maritime Manor - Sidney Crosby Compound - Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania

Lex stood at the large picture window for a moment. He examined what he could see of the extensive  grounds. The lawn was well manicured with each of the smaller cottages on the compound sharing a large common area. Just beyond the cottages was a wooded area that extended to what looked like a river or creek bed. He mentally checked for sight lines and frowned at the results.

He turned around and examined the large office that had been created from two small guest rooms. At the far end, a large conference table sat covered with stacks of money. From what he could quickly estimate, it was easily $20K in stacks with a pile left to be sorted. He walked closer to the table. The pile was probably another 50K left to be sorted from collected protection money from the weekend. 

Outside the office, he heard the jovial sounds of the crew chirping each other. Suddenly they got quiet. He turned to face the door. The chatter had turned seriously and he heard the sound of the front door open. He then heard the sound of Sid’s distinct Nova Scotian accent, “Who is she?”

Then he heard the accented voice of Andre Burakovsky, “She’s with the big guy. He’s waiting for you in the office.” Lex’s body tensed up and he faced the door. 

Seggy piped in, “You left him in the office? Alone?”

“That’s not good?” the Swede questioned Seggy as they walked past him. Sid’s silence sent the resounding message that it was indeed, no good. Lex heard footsteps that approached the door. He resumed his position by the picture window, but turned when Sid and Seggy walked in the room. 

Sid did a quick visual assessment as he walked in. His lips pursed when he saw the stacks of money in the open. When his eyes landed on the gun left out in the open, he shook his head, “Burky, Burky, Burky.”

After a quick one shoulder hug and pat on the back, Tyler moved to make the introductions. “Sid, this is Jamie Oleksiak aka Big Rig,” he began, “We go back a long way. Big Rig, this is Sid Crosby. He runs this crew.”

“I am sure that he knows who I am, Seggy,” Sid interjected as he shook hands with Lex, “You can leave us alone now.” Tyler’s head went back and forth as the two stood in an extended handshake. 

“Sure, Sid,” Tyler said through the tension that radiated off of the two men sizing each other up. “I’m just going to go head over to the clubs and deal with that bouncer issue.” 

Lex noted the hand strength in the shorter man as Tyler left. He also noted the slight flair in his nostrils and tense jaw. On the surface, Sid appeared calm and neutral.  He crossed in front of Lex to walk to his desk. He made a quick turn while pulling out his gun. He was met by a gun pointed between his temple as Lex quickly removed his gun from his hand. Time stood still as the two men stared each other down. The beating of each other’s heart pounded in their ears. It was then that Sid noticed the gun pointed at his head was one of his own. His eyes shifted and he saw the hidden gun safe ajar. 

Sid said neutrally, “So what’s your plan of action here, Big Rig?”

“Well, I would say my plan of action is to find out if you are as big of an idiot as your crew,” Lex said equally as cool, “Also I would say that we are in the process of sizing each other up. I think I have the upper hand literally and figuratively.” 

“I think that you have proven your point,” Sid took a step back without breaking eye contact, “You have found some vulnerabilities that need to be addressed. Care to sit down and discuss the job now like professionals?”  Lex nodded and Sid carefully walked behind his desk. 

“Hands on the desk,” Lex ordered as he kept the gun pointed at Sid. 

“Come on, Big Rig,” Sid smiled, “I said like professionals. Besides, do you think I am going to kill you with your girl sitting in the next room?” 

Lex’s eyes squinted slightly but his expression did not change. He shrugged and said, “It’s a possibility, but that’s assuming that you get me before I get you, which is not going to happen.” 

“Fair enough,” Sid conceded, “You got the job by the way if you want it. Want to hear the details?” Lex nodded his head yes. Impressed with Sid’s direct approach. “Then put the damn gun down,” Sid instructed. Lex lowered his weapon, but kept the gun in his hand. “First, tell me the other vulnerabilities you saw.”

“I don’t work for free,” Lex replied, “Tell me about the job and compensation. I will discuss it with Teddy. Then I will give you a breakdown of your slip-shod security.” 

Sid sat back and smiled, “You don’t bullshit. I like that.”

“I find that it makes life simpler,” Lex responded. 

“Alright, here is a breakdown of the job. You are head of security for all business locations as well as the compound. You have complete discretion in terms of staffing and resources that you need. My only non-negotiables are Seggy and Burky. They may need some fine tuning, but I trust them,” Sid explained, “Compensation includes salary, housing and benefits.” 

“What’s the salary?” Lex quizzed.

“Name your price,” Sid answered without hesitation. Lex balked and Sid continued, “Look, I have a good gut instinct about you. You have already proven that you will stand your ground and you are not a yes man. That’s what I need.”

“I gotta talk it over with my lady,” Lex answered slowly, “Tell me about the crew.”

Outside in the great room, Teddy’s legs bounced up and down on the gray leather sofa as she  played with the bracelet on her wrist. She moved her fingers from stone to stone. Burky watched from the side of the room and ran his fingers through his hair before bringing his thumb to his mouth. He slowly chewed his fingernail while contemplating his next move. He knew had screwed up letting the Big Bird or whatever his name was into the office. He had been distracted by the red head when she entered the room wearing a navy blue sheath dress that hugged her curves. Women had always been his weakness.

Sid would come down hard on his stupidity if he didnt come with a plan to make up for it. “What were you thinking, dumbass?” he chastised himself. Suddenly he saw a glint that caught his eye. He focused on the origin of it and smiled widely. He knew what he needed to do. 

“Excuse me” he asked brightly and exaggerated his Swedish accent slightly,  “What did you say your name was?

Teddy looked over at him warily, “Teddy.” She wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. She was a bundle of nerves as the reality of the situation sank in. This could be her future - a future outside of Texas. It was a move that would hammer the final nail in the coffin of her relationship with her parents.

“Ahhh, Teddy is a man's name, correct?” he questioned “Your parents wanted a boy and not a girl?”

“Wow,” she said as her eyebrow raised slightly, “You get right to the point…..”

“Andre,” he grinned, “They call me Burky.” He studied her body language as he decided on his approach. “You look thirsty. We can go get a drink in the kitchen.” he said sweetly.

She studied his face for a moment. He seemed friendly enough, much friendlier than she thought a part of Sid Crosby’s crew should be. It couldn’t hurt to make conversation and learn a little bit more about the job from his perspective, she told herself. 

“Do you have coffee?” she smiled back, “I would love some.” She willingly followed along as he led them  into the spacious kitchen. They made small talk as they made their coffees. They reached over each other as they put their cream and sweeteners in their mugs. He spoke of his move from Sweden to the states to pursue a hockey career. Like Lex and Seggy, his professional career had been a bust. In his case, multiple injuries stymied his playing time and eventually earned him the label of “fragile”. Teddy remained tight lipped when Burky pressed her information about Lex and his history.

It was only after they returned to the living room that Teddy felt like something was off. She dismissed the feeling as she looked at the closed door. “So Sid?” Teddy asked casually, “He's a good boss?”

Burky's head popped up, “Oh, he's great. He took me in off the street.” 

Suddenly, Teddy realized what was wrong. Her right wrist was bare. The wrist that normally held  a diamond tennis bracelet. It had been a sweet sixteen gift from her dead sister, Frankie. She looked down in the chair to see if it had slipped off there. It was nowhere to be seen. She distinctly remembered touching it earlier. She retraced her steps mentally and then kicked herself figuratively.

“So Andy?” she asked pointedly.

“Andre,” he corrected.

“Andre,” she smiled, “What do you do for Sid? I assume that you have some sort of specific role.”

Burky blinked slowly, unsure where the conversation was leading. He didn't want to bring any attention to his skill set. “Oh, I do all kinds of things.” he answered casually.

“Things like stealing bracelets from house guests?” Teddy leveled her gaze at the Swede.

“Bracelet?” he smiled, “What bracelet?”

“The one you took,” she answered calmly. 

“I didn't take a bracelet,” he replied in the same manner.

“We're going this route?” Teddy got up and walked toward him with a sense of purpose, “Give me the bracelet- no harm, no foul.”

“There is no harm, no foul because I don't have the bracelet. I don’t know what you are talking about,” he stood his ground.”

“Come on Burky, this could get really ugly or you can simply hand it back to me,” Teddy attempted to speak as sweetly as possible. When he didn’t respond, she felt the anger rise up in her. “Look, you have three seconds before I scream,” her voice rose slightly, “What do you think HE is going to do when he hears it? Do you think he is going to stop to ask you questions? If you are lucky, I will be able to explain the situation before he assumes something far worse. No, when I tell him that you took the bracelet, he will just turn you upside down and shake you down. Have you ever been shaken down by a Big Rig?  I would just give it back to me and save yourself the pain, but you do you booboo”.

In the office, Sid was mid-story when Lex held up his hand. Sid stopped talking and they listened.

“Let's be reasonable,” Burky cajoled.

She stepped closer and yelled, “Give it back.”

“or you will tell your giant, badass big bird of a boyfriend,” he scoffed, “For the last time, I didn’t take your damn….”

He was interrupted as Teddy grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. Then she pushed her foot to the back of his knee, bringing him down to his knees. “Give it back to me,” she screamed as she twisted his arm tighter. 

“Foz, everything okay out there,” Lex called  as he rose to his feet. 

“Yeah sure,” Teddy answered breezily as she pressed harder.

Burky heard the movement and assessed the situation. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he thought to himself as the pain began to shoot up his arm. He began to realize that his initial plan of stealing the bracelet to get back in Sid’s good graces had not been thought through to completion. One, he thought she wouldn’t notice, or at least until they left. Two, he forgot about the big guy. Three, it was a stupid ass plan altogether. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” he whined, “You have to get off of me.” She stood up slowly and adjusted her dress. Burky placed his forehead on the floor and took a deep breath in an effort to compose himself. Then he jumped up and smiled brightly. “Congratulations, Teddy,” he said with false bravado. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the five carat tennis bracelet. He placed it into his palm and presented it to her with great flourish. 

It was that moment that the door opened and duo walked into the room. 

“What’s going on?” Lex asked bruskly. 

Teddy tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

“We heard a ruckus,” Sid answered. 

Teddy and Burky exchanged a look. Teddy studied his face. His eyes implored her silently. She considered his misdeed. He tried to pull a fast one on her and failed. It was unlikely he would try it again. She tried to summon anger but he bat his puppy dog eyes at her and she smiled.

“A ruckus?” Burky repeated, “I didn’t hear a ruckus. Did you hear a ruckus, Teddy?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything, Andy,” she responded. She turned to the duo. “Can you describe the ruckus?” she added. 

Sid stifled his laughter. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he knew two things - Burky had screwed up again and Teddy was covering up for him. The Swede was the equivalent of a labrador puppy on his crew. He was simultaneously entertaining and endearing with his antics. However, he frequently left messes all over that required someone to clean it up.

 Lex pressed the issue slightly, “I am pretty sure I heard your voice, Teddy.“

Teddy smiled, “Oh that! My bracelet fell off. Andy here helped me find it. Didn’t you Andy?” 

Andre bit his tongue. He wanted to correct her but she was doing him a solid so he let it slide. “Yes, that must have been what you heard. Poor Teddy was quite flummoxed. You should really get that clasp checked. It’s very weak in my opinion.

Lex looked back and forth between the two. He was sure of one thing- something happened and Teddy would not tell him in front of Sid. Since she seemed to have the “situation” under control, he let it slide. 

“Are you almost done with your chat?” Teddy asked, desperate to end the stand-off. 

Sid smiled, “We’re just about done. Burky, take Teddy down to see the River cottage.” She tilted her head in confusion and he continued, “The job does come with either a housing allowance and/or use of one of the cottages on the compound. Why don’t you go take a look at it and see it will fit your needs?”

“Oh, that sounds like a fabulous idea,” she smiled. 

She held out her arm to signal Burky to lead the way. They were about ten yards outside the house before he spoke. “Why did you cover for me?” he asked. 

“Snitches get stitches,” she answered quickly.

“Not here,” he retorted immediately. She gave him a side eye. “Sid has very few rules, but rule number one is that there is no violence towards women or children. They're off limits.”

Teddy nodded her head in understanding, “So why did you steal my bracelet then?”

“Temporary insanity?” he laughed. When she did not return the laugh, he added, “I wanted to remind Sid that he needs me around for my special set of skills.” 

“Didn’t think that one one through, huh?” Teddy paused 

“Yeah,”  he sighed, “I am not the brains of the crew obviously..”

Teddy elbowed him, “Don’t worry Big Rig is smart enough for the both of you.” They stepped inside of the cozy three bedroom cottage. Teddy walked around from room to room and tried to keep her composure. It was a far cry from their cramped studio apartment. Mentally she started decorating it with their existing furniture. When she found the back door that led to a deck overlooking the Alleghany river, she was sold. 

Outside the cottage, Sid approached Burky with Lex. “Where’s Teddy?” Lex asked. Burky nodded his head to indicate that she was inside. They walked in and found her peacefully enjoying the view. She turned as she sensed their presence even though her eyes were closed. Sid’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Are you all done?” she asked brightly. 

Sid smiled, “I think that I may have him convinced to join the crew. I think that my only obstacle is you. Will the cottage work?” He was smart enough to know who the real decision maker would be.

Teddy glanced at her boyfriend then back to the river. She folded her arms across her chest. Then she replied with a smile, “The cottage is more than adequate.” Then she turned to Lex and asked, “Can you give Mr. Crosby and me a moment? I do have some questions for him.” 

His eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head, “Teddy, are you sure you want me to leave?”

‘Yes, it won’t take long. You should check out the shower to make sure that you fit,” she suggested. When he left, Sid and Teddy stood in silence for a moment. 

“Mr. Crosby,” she began, “Are there any of the other guys on the crew that have a wife or girlfriend?”

“No, you are the first,” he answered, “Truthfully, I thought you were going to be a dealbreaker for me when I saw you in the living room. Turns out that I was wrong.”

“How so?” she inquired. 

“You are much tougher than you appear,” he answered, “How hard did you take down Burky?”

Teddy’s mouth dropped before she smiled, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Come on, you can tell me,” he encouraged, “What did he do?”

“Promise me that he won’t be punished?” she asked point blank. Sid held up his fingers in a “Scouts Honor” gesture. She nodded in understanding. 

“Apparently in a fit of desperation, he lifted my bracelet from my wrist,” she answered. Sid immediately frowned and his jaw tensed. “Hey, he is part of your crew. You can’t be surprised.” Teddy walked towards the edge of the deck before turning back to face him. “Seriously, he didn’t think it through but there was no harm and no foul,” she said as she held out her bracelet. 

“Back to my question,” he quizzed.

“I took him down hard enough to get my message through,” she stared at him defiantly, “he won’t try it again - at least not with me.” 

Sid smiled, “You way tougher than I thought you were.”

“I used to not be tough, but Lex taught me,” she said out loud, “He turned me from a sheltered rich girl into someone with street smarts.”

“I’d love to hear how that happened,” he replied. 

“Story for another time,” she sighed. She steeled herself. Then she blurted out, “Mr. Crosby, what kind of business is this? I am not naive enough to believe that this is a completely legitimate operation, but I need to know just how far across the line will this job take Jamie?” She was careful to use his proper name. 

“Wow, you've got nerves of steel to ask me that,” Sid balked. 

For a moment, Teddy doubted herself but she pushed through it, “Lex,” she stopped herself, “I mean Jamie is more than capable to do whatever this job requires. I know that he has had to make ethically gray choices in the past.” She paused and considered shutting up but her protective nature spurred her on. “But he is a man of honor. He is not mean or malicious. I don’t want him to be  in a position where he would have to compromise his principles and character.” She took a deep breath, “I don't want to lose the man I love to a world of darkness.” 

Sid studied her for a moment. If there had been any doubt left about Oleksiak, she had removed it. Anyone who could inspire such gumption and loyalty was a person he wanted on his crew. Finally Sid spoke, “I won’t ask him to do that. I will not lie. We break the law on occasion.” She gave him a side eye. “Okay, we break the law a lot, but we do have a code that we follow.”

“Will he have to hurt people?” she asked brazenly.

“Yes, but nobody gets hurt that doesn’t deserve to be hurt,” he countered. 

“And women and children are off limits?” she asked to get confirmation of Burky’s remark.

“They are off limits and anyone who breaks that rule gets hurt,” Sid answered. 

“Well, then I think you have answered my questions,” she stated. 

“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll send Big Rig in so you can make your decision.”

Once Sid and Burky had left the cottage, Lex came back out to the deck. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to place his chin on her shoulder. “What are you thinking, Foz?” he asked quietly. 

“I am thinking that I want to know how the interview went. Do you like him? Does he like you? What does the job entail?” she leaned her body weight back and turned her head to face him. He took her hand and led her to the chaise lounge. He removed his jacket and got comfortable. Then he pulled her on top of his massive body. 

“Well, after the guns were put away, it went well,” he started. 

“Guns? What the hell, Lex!” she shouted. 

He smiled, “We sized each other up so to speak”

“And?” she asked. 

“And there is a reason that he is Sidney Fucking Crosby and runs all of Pennsylvania and half of NYC. He’s smart, shrewd and has balls of steel,” he answered. She rested her head on his chest as he went on to explain the job. She could hear the excitement in his voice. She could also hear how he was trying to tamper it down. He knew that she would allow his excitement to cloud her judgment and she knew that he knew it. 

“So did he offer you the job?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he tried to answer casually. 

“What’s the hold up then?” she joked. 

“The money,” he answered. He continued when she squinted in confusion, “He said that I can name my price. Foz, I have no idea on what to ask for. This job is so far out of my league. I just don’t know.” His voice trailed off. 

“Hey,” she interjected, “This is not out of your league. He basically offered you a job on the spot for a reason. Don’t doubt yourself, Jamieson.” 

“Okay boss,” he tickled her side. 

Suddenly an idea hit and she dug out her phone. She started texting Steve, the former Secret Service agent, who headed her father’s security team. 

Teddy gulped when she read the last line. 

“What?” Lex asked as his eyes filled with tears. 

She handed the phone to Lex who read over the messages. “Daddio never changed the code,” she whispered, “so I could go back if I needed to.” 

“Foz,” he whispered, “If you want to stay in Dallas, we can stay in Dallas. I’ll find a way to make more money.” 

Her eyes flashed up at him, “You know I don’t give a shit about the money. It’s never been about the money.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “Listen to me Jamieson Oleksiak. I chose you. I chose you and I will choose you over and over again,” she spoke urgently. “This is a fresh start for us and we’re not going to throw it away for a possibility,” she said firmly, “They made their choice and nothing in those texts changes that.” 

“But Foz, they’re your family,” he countered.

“No, you are my family. They threw me away when they couldn’t control me” she protested, “Would you throw me away?

He recoiled in horror, “Never.

 “It’s you and me forever.” she began reciting the familiar words. 

“No matter what” he joined in reciting their motto.

“Whatever it takes,” she finished. 

“So we have a decision made?” he smiled.

“Let’s move to Pittsburgh,” she answered. 

“Foz, I didn’t even ask about the cottage,” he realized, “Do you like it?”

“It needs a little TLC, but I like it,” she assured him, “Factor in redecorating in your salary request.” 

They spent a few more minutes in silence before he nudged them up. After a few minutes to take measurements, they strolled hand in hand back to the main house. Teddy started to find a seat in the living room as Lex went to find Sid. However, he kept a firm grip on her hand. Together they knocked on the door and entered the office together. 

“So what’s the verdict?” Sid asked.

“We’re in for the right price,” Lex answered. He took a deep breath, “500K should do it.”

“Okay,” the Canadian crime boss answered without pausing, “When can you start?”

“Wait,” Teddy interjected. Sid turned to her, “And a reno budget for the cottage.”

Sid blinked and then smiled, “Welcome to the family. Let’s go celebrate.” 

The crew sat in the private dining of Ciliegia, Sid’s preferred Italian restaurant. The usually all male crew felt invigorated by the presence of a woman. There was a sly game of one-up manship as they vied for Teddy’s attention. It had not taken them long to realize that the key to getting into the new boss’s good graces was getting into HER good graces. 

After much prodding from Sid, Teddy finally spilled the beans on Burky’s failed attempt to steal her bracelet. 

“I lifted it without you noticing,” Burky protested as he blushed, “At least give me credit for that.” 

“Yes, Andy,” she teased, “You did do that. Now what you were going to do with it once you had it, I have no idea.” 

“Andre… if you are not going to call me Burky, call me Andre,” he begged. 

“Why would I do that, Andy?” Teddy answered, “I think you should be glad that this is the only punishment I am going to dole out.” Lex watched with a bemused smile as the two bantered. 

Later, Sid asked the server to send his compliments to the chef for the delicious meal. They were surprised when the fiery redhead walked into the room. She wiped her hands on her apron as she approached Sid at the head of the table.  He stared at her, suddenly unable to speak. Startled glances were exchanged among the group before Lex spoke up to pass along the praise. The chef, Lizzie, nodded her head as she listened but her eyes were transfixed on the brunette Canadian. When she stumbled out of the room as she kept her gaze in his direction, Teddy and Lex shared a look.

As they walked out to go their separate ways, Sid nudged Lex, “I am pretty sure I just met my future wife.”

Lex stopped suddenly, “Don’t you think that you should know her name first?”

“I know her name,” Sid corrected, “It’s Mrs. Crosby.”

Lex laughed out loud, “Those redheads, I’ll tell you.” He glanced over at Teddy who was busy exchanging phone numbers, instagrams and snapchats with Seggy and Burky. “They’ll snatch your soul out of your body in an instant and never give it back,” he said with a smile. She turned to him and flashed a smile that melted his heart.

Lex pulled Teddy in a tight hug. “I lied earlier today, Foz” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“You did?” she looked up into his eyes, “about what?”

“I said that I am the only criminal in this relationship,” he smiled as he spoke, “That’s not true.”

“I’m a criminal now?” she playfully pouted, “Fine - I’ll get the suit cleaned and returned to Daddio’s closet. No harm, no foul.”

“I’m not talking about that, Foz,” he kissed her forehead. 

“Then how am I a criminal?” she poked his rock hard abs. 

“You stole my heart, just like a seasoned professional,” he bent down to kiss her gently, “Much better than the Swede.”

“Oh,” she returned his kiss, “In my defense, you stole mine first.” 

“Well, I am not giving it back,” he lifted her up to kiss her more deeply.

“Me either,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “I am yours forever. No takeback and no exchanges.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” he grinned as he carried her out to their waiting car, “I wouldn’t think of it.”

Chapter One-Trouble with a capital T-https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/653360134099288064/trouble-with-a-capital-t-magical-mystery

[lordadmiralfarsight]

Economy lesson : Money Velocity

Greetings my dear little Tumblrans, it is I, that guy that keeps making vaguely meme-y economy posts ! Today with horrible news : I have decided to teach outside of work hours ! On the plus side, unlike my IRL students, YOU can block me if you don't want the lesson.

And today's topic will be Money Velocity. What is money velocity ? It's not a bike city populated by sentient cash, despite what some might believe, no. It is the speed at which money moves inside an economy. What's that got to do with anything ? A fucklot ! Let me explain.

Money velocity is, like I said, the speed at which money moves in an economy between actors. Like consumers, banks, the State, companies, NGOs, etc. The faster that money moves, the better, because it means that money is being used for economic activity, powering various parts of the system and thus creating wealth.

Or, in the wise words of one of the few monarchs I am not physically incapable of tolerating, King Julian : we like to move it move it (it being money).

To illustrate, allow me to introduce a character : a random €100 bill. Yes, euro, not dollar, I'm European, you can't stop me. That €100 bill, which we will call Billy going forward, is used to buy a load of groceries at the market, let's say veggies for a restaurant. Billy is now in the hands of a farmer, who uses it to buy fertilizer to keep his farm going. The producer of the fertilizer then uses Billy to pay a worker, who then uses billy to pay for a new piece of furniture, and then Billy is used to buy more lumber, then to pay for repairs on a chainsaw, then to buy spare parts, then to ... You get the idea, Billy is on a grand journey through the economy, how delightfull.

When he's doing that, Billy is keeping the economic waterwheel going, round and round, and that economic waterwheel then powers society. A waterwheel that goes vroom means that the economy is healthy, which means you can safely invest in a house, new tools, a car, whatever, and it's likely that the investment will go at least OK-ish. It means banks can feel safer about lending, which is kind of a central part of our current economic model and one of our primary tools of wealth creation.

Now, if you've read my other two economic posts, you're probably thinking I'm going to explain how everything's fucked and how we're all doomed, which is a gross exaggeration and I...

Why everything's fucked

I could apologize for that easy joke, but I asked myself if I should just because I could, and my answer is no.

So, in short : money move fast, is good. So logically, if money move slow, is bad, right ? Exactly. So the question then is : what makes money go slow ? Well, a bunch of stuff can.

For instance, a low amount of existing money, AKA the money supply. People like hoarding what's rare and what has value, so valuable rare stuff is prime hoarding material. Keeping in mind that TOO MUCH money can also be bad due to hyperinflation, something that causes shudders of horror in prudish teenagers prowling DeviantArt (no, I will not change my joke) and in Germans in general (I use "cahs wheelbarrow" in attack mode to trigger generational trauma).

Another factor would be how easy it is to pay for stuff. For instance, if you have to go to the bank to take money out of your account each time you need to pay for something, unexpected/impulse buying is far less likely, if only because of the hassle. If you can pay with a credit card (and even more so if you can check your account in real time), you're more likely to feel confident buying things, which in turn means you'll buy stuff, which keeps the money moving.

Last big factor we'll see is economic actor behaviour. "Can I start blaming billionaires now?" Patience my dear, I'm giving you a reason. So, how economic actors behave has an impact on the economy, amazing discovery, next, scientists claim ocean is made of water. But more seriously, if you're putting money aside you're reducing money velocity by creating, I guess you could call it an economic drainage lake which you fill with your savings.

Now, that money isn't entirely out of the system, since you're most likely shoving it into a savings account which can then serve as a backing for banks to loan money (how did you think interests were accrued?) so it's still going through the system, even if far slower than if you spend it.

Those bank loans can still be given to consummers buying big things (like houses) and to companies looking to develop, and that still keeps the economy running, right ? Normally, yes.

"Is it time to blame Capitalism and billionaires yet?" you ask, and yes, yes it is.

So, why do we blame them now ? Easy : there's a second economic circuit that's going perfectly fine, the financial one. If we look at the entire system, there's plenty of movement of money on the stock markets, even without taking speculation into account which ... is a whole other subject I may have to look at later. The main issue is that this financial economic circuit is not as connected as the traditional one as it perhaps should be, which means the money injected into that circuit has a worrying tendency to STAY in that circuit. How ? Well ...

Investors put cash into a company, then they expect dividents. Those dividends are used to put more cash in the company or in other companies, and since monkey brain like number big, investors ask for MORE dividends, which means you need to cut costs somewhere, like for instance employees. That money is still pushing economic activity, it's still creating wealth, but that wealth is focused in a rather small group and is based on the inherently unstable stock markets, which means that it can evaporate whenever investors have a collective tantrum. There's also the fact that, despite the large sums of money involved, that particular mass of money moves far slower than the money used by consummers.

Second big issue : the drainage great lakes. You're not the only one to have savings, the 1% have savings too, except theirs are proportional to how much cash they have. Now, to be clear, most of their wealth is in assets, not in cash, but they still DO have cash, and as you are no doubt aware, they aren't too thrilled when asked to pay taxes. Taxation is theft and all that bullshit spewed by people opposed to snake BDSM.

Like I pointed out, savings aren't inherently bad, they slow down the flow of money a bit, but do not stop it, and in fact allow for crucial investments that produce new wealth. No, the main issue is where those savings are. Tax havens, a well known term for places where money is put to stay hidden and, sometimes, to be laundered. Well, these puppies form, in effect, giant financial retention dams, where rivers of cash are poured in and trickles come out.

Most of the money put in tax havens don't return to the economy they come from. And, to be perfectly honest, they don't go into the tax haven's economy either. It just ... sits there. Hoardingly.

Proportionally, the tax havens have less of an impact than the parallel financial circuit, but they are visible and, most importantly, symptomatic of a way of thinking, of acting, of hoarding wealth and value.

So yeah, that's money velocity, or how fast money goes in the economy. Put simply, our system is currently obsessed with the stock market due to a systemic gambling addiction and has forgotten that the basis of a consumption economy is the consummer, which uh ... is generally in a less than ideal situation right now.

Now, when this topic was suggested to me, "trickle down" economics was mentionned, with the suggestion that I show how it's a scam. Well, I think it's already done fairly well with the above, as the system set up to "trickle down" was what spawned the financial circuit and allowed wealth monopilzation that spawned the tax haven problem on its current scale.

But I feel I should go further.

Is trickle down economics doomed to fail in all cases ? No, it can work actually ! It's just like unregulated Capitalism or Real Communism(tm), it can work if you just do this one simple, cheap, easy thing : replace all humans with robots bound by a strict programming.

Like many other economic or political ideas, "trickle down economics", in its stated goal and ideal functionning, is predicated and dependant on being populated purely and entirely by good faith actors. Adding any degree of human interference leads to the idealized system collapsing in one way or another.

This leaves two options :

Reagan and co were unerringly naive and incapable of considering the possibility humans could act selfishly or in a way that didn't match their vision.

They knew and were counting on it, and only sold the ideal as a sugar coating for the bullshit.

I'll let you pick which one is more likely.

[sunlitlemonade]

y'all can actually 100% disagree with me on this. like genuinely. but every time ian is mentioned and alex is like 'he was training me into something i never wanted to be' i have to take a second and wonder if it was actually like that or if he's just a teenager who never even knew his parents finding out the only living relative he had, the one who brought him up, was something alex never expected him to be. he must feel untethered and betrayed. add to that the trauma he was so nicely handed on a platter right after ian's death and seeing that the skills he had been taught by ian actually helped him. there must be so much bitterness. i think that's part of the reason why every memory mentioned then on is just,,,, tainted with that visceral mix of emotions he never got to process.

lemme show y'all some snippets from Spy Trap. it's a short story set between Skeleton Key and Eagle Strike. anyone who hasn't read it/doesn't want to, the gist is: alex and crawley are in 'car crash' and alex wakes up in a place which acts like a rehabilitation center for MI6 operatives after missions with absolutely ZERO memory of what happened for him to get there. truth is alex and crawley are being kept on a steady diet of drugs to keep them confused and loose to extract valuable intel under the guise of therapy sessions and there was never any car crash. they were drugged and brought in. it was not a hospital for MI6 agents but a set up by foreign intelligence. with all of that in mind - y'know that alex is clearly very disturbed and agitated and under the influence of bad bad stuff - lets see what he has to say about ian [and i know i put a significant chunk here but bear with me]

do you notice how he was prompted into saying what ian wanted from him when dr feng said 'and he wanted you to be a spy too'? for real, with conviction, i know for a fact that he would have refused to elaborate/volunteer any information on ian just the way he did with jack. he wouldn't have said another word. not if that sore spot wasn't hit. and in the very last section we see it boil down to him feeling like luckiest boy in the world but learning he was lied to. we see it all came down to 'I don't even know what Ian really felt about me. Did he like me or did he just want to use me?'

tell me this isn't a boy that hasn't had every memory he had with his uncle overshadowed and tainted by grief and lies. he just wanted love and i truly do think ian loved him. maybe that's just me but hey you're reading my post and i for one am incapable of being normal about these guys.

just think about it - alex was ian's only remaining family too. tell me ian wasn't worried that the way john's work had caught up with him and had gotten him killed, the same might happen to him too? or maybe one day alex could be used as leverage against him and he wanted alex to be ready to defend himself? ok, you might say 'but sunny. that explains the martial arts and physical fitness. what about all the extreme sports and other skills.' well there's this lovely little post by @lapseinart that might give you a little insight. besides, we are working on very little material because we really don't know much about ian except the fact that he was one of the best operatives MI6 had and was important to alex and his competency as a spy.

anyways so immediately after this he says:

and you can see him actively trying to put the session behind him because he seemed to verbally admitted to things he hadn't even admitted to himself before.

idk. i just have a lot of emotions and thoughts but its very interesting to see it progress from 'ian had taught him *insert skill* which is useful here!' to 'ofc another thing ian taught him to discreetly make him into something he didn't want to be'. there's never any proof that ian did that to turn him into a spy [at least as far as i remember lmao. i read the books years back and am on the 4th one on the reread. so my memory of the rest of the books is pretty hazy. correct me if im wrong lol] we never will have a concrete answer because well. ian's dead lmao. we'll never know what he had in mind for alex and why exactly he did all of this. but also,,, the way sorrow and lividity at being lied to twists alex's way of thinking about ian is Something Else.

[es-draws]

All right, so I just read the answer you gave about coming out to someone outside of the kink, and I felt the urge to ask this

you said you chose your partner right?

Meaning you did not initially told her about it

And please, understand I do not mean this in an accusatory way, like at all

It's just that for me, personally, that is one of biggest conundrums imaginable

Allow me to explain, in my head were I to date someone, I have two options being a feedist myself:

1° Being upfront about my kink from the get go,

or 2° waiting to tell down the line after some degree of intimacy has been formed

And for me, both are sources of distress and anxiety

I imagine, id I choose the former I'm definitely scarring off damn near all prospect, so no bueno

But if I wait until there's a connection, if I chose the later, I feel I like I'm alluring someone into one kind of relationship and offering another instead, like "I'm holding their connection towards me hostage"

Almost like a bait and switch

Which I'm incapable of doing. (again just letting it clear I AM NOT ACCUSING YOU of doing that, this is purely how I feel)

Haven't you ever feel anything like this?

Like is this a common feeling among feedists?

Or am I just too much of an overthinker?

I get this too. So in short, is it wrong to hide your fetish from your partner?

I feel that it isn't wrong to keep your kinks private - as long as you don't try to act on them. Fetishes are very personal, and there are many valid reasons to not discuss them. You're not obligated to share that, even with a romantic partner. But you are obligated to get consent. You can't hide your fetish and then secretly try to make them fat. You can't wait until marriage to demand they gain weight or divorce. Either be honest with them and yourself, or accept keeping your kinks to yourself.

Obviously, I did not tell my partner up front. I also never asked, demanded, or expected her to gain for me. But I do believe in being honest and open with your partner, and I always planned to tell her. We just needed to build trust in each other - especially intimately. Think about it; we're sharing niche sexual desires that physically affect you outside the bedroom. If they don't know you, will they feel fetishized? If they don't trust you, will they feel objectified? For me, sharing kinks takes a bond. You need a strong connection, or else the whole thing might fall apart.

And finally, understand yourself. I didn't need feedism to have a happy relationship. I could keep this to myself and simply never engage in it. But that's not true for everyone. If you feel you need to feed someone, then you need to tell them. It doesn't have to be the first thing you say, but it needs to be said eventually. And ultimately it comes down to you - because you cannot act on this kink without telling them.

So tell them when you're ready. Just don't expect them to be your feedee until you do.

[shoyoist]

Hii rekha, long time no talk, do me a favor and make a small list of your fav anime characters in the order of who would vs who wouldn't survive NNN (no specific fandom) I just wanna see your opinion that's all.

hi xyhoo 💓 lmaoo okay i thought about it and tbh NONE of my faves would survive, either because their libido is just too high to manage or because they think NNN is fucking stupid. but okayy let's do it. you asked for a small list but i'm incapable of keeping things short when it comes to my faves so i am sorry in advance!!

haikyuu: the only man i see in this world is shoyo<33 he has the discipline to get through it but he believes in keeping himself at 100% physically, so he would turn me down even if i suggested he try NNN 😭 so no! he doesn't survive.

tokyo rev: (this is in order of biggest fail to almost-made-it)

1. sanoshin my beloved<33 he CANNOT survive. he jacks off like every day. look at him you know i'm right!! baby boy lasts a week max and that is if he physically restrains himself or something. and it's only a couple of days if you're around to tease him through it.

2. izana cannot survive. he's way too needy to make it. an entire MONTH without your touch?? without indulging in his lil dirty fantasies about you? he'll go insane he can't do it. he'll be in tears.

3. shuji cannot survive. he thinks it's fucking stupid. and if he does participating he makes it look like he survived but he's locking himself in the bathroom to jack off on day three. you ask him how he's doing and he's all nonchalant like "yeah it's not that fucking difficult alright" but he's secretly busting his nuts as per his regular schedule :P

4. kakucho goes pretty strong!! he nearly makes it. it's just that his balls are so full and heavy by the third week, and every time he looks at you his vision tunnels. and then he wakes up in the mornings and grits his teeth like goddd FUCK IT. he makes it three weeks and then fails.

5. kisaki would actually make it honestly. he thinks it's the stupidest, most childish thing ever but if you beg him to try it he would. says “you'll be the one that comes begging to me.” and he's determined to not cave. he busies himself with work to keep his mind off of it and most nights he's so tired when he gets home he's so tired he just falls asleep the moment he hits the bed. he would fail the moment you get too forward with any teasing tho v_v he's the type that cums in his pants real easy <33

blue lock: (again, in order of biggest fail to almost-made-it)

1. SHIDOU RYUSEI. no explanation needed.

2. reo also thinks it's stupid, but not because he thinks it's like dumb or childish or anything, it's just that he gets in on every NNN but has always failed halfway through. he just can't take it anymore by the end of the second week</3

3. chigiri would make it pretty far, but at some point he would just conveniently forget he was trying to survive a month without jacking off. one morning on the last week he's staring at himself bleary eyed, his dick in his fist and cum on his stomach, and he's like “oops.”

4. rin <33 he doesn't make it. he doesn't participate. he thinks it's stupid and he's not about to get coaxed into participating. he doesn't like restraining himself, and he doesn't like being restricted from your touch for too long either. so like shoyo, he's not in the game :P

[justonemorewallflower]

Bruises

Fandom: Battlestar Galactica

Pairing: Kara x Lee

Prompt: Bruises

WC: 500

TWs: mentions of ab*se, self-h*rm, bruises, etc.

***

Ever since she had gotten back from New Caprica Lee could tell Kara was different. He didn't know what had happened to her there but he knew something had at least, something that had changed her.

She never talked about it and while he couldn't blame her, he wished she would. That she would open up about it because maybe it would lessen the pain. But he knew that wasn't how Kara worked. She faced her problems and pain alone, she always did her best to make sure to not put them on others, or make them anyone else's problem too.

The first week after she had come back had been the worst. She had been the most different and far off, hard to reach. And he couldn't ignore the bruises.

Someone had hurt her. Abused her. And it pissed him off. He knew it hadn't been Sam but sometimes a part of him had wished it was so she'd have an excuse to leave him and Lee could finally have her, since she had chosen to run instead when he had offered her the idea to finally be together.

There weren't a lot, but it was enough, especially if you looked closely. Especially if you knew Kara like he did. She never let people hurt her, if she could help it. So seeing her as beat up as she was was concerning, to know someone had worn her down enough to the point where she just took the abuse rather than tried to fight it. Where that was the easier option.

And while the injuries were clearly from abuse of some sort he couldn't help but to wonder if any were self inflicted. If she had tried to escape whatever hell she had faced there by attempting to die. If it had been bad enough he knew she probably had. If her spirit had gotten broken beyond repair.

He knew it had because otherwise she would have been making jokes about it after day one. To make light of it, to cope, because that's what she typically did.

But she instead stayed quiet about it and Kara never stayed quiet. She was brash and loud and hated keeping to herself. She always spoke her mind.

She wasn't just staying silent. She was hiding too, and that was even more concerning. She was locking herself away, refusing to talk to anyone and almost seeming scared whenever someone tried to approach her. That was the biggest difference. Kara Thrace never showed fear, but now it seemed to be the only emotion she had left.

Lee knew the physical bruises would go away sooner or later, but the internal ones wouldn't. Those were the ones he was most concerned about.

And while she was avoiding everyone he knew he would have to be the one person to try and heal her wounds. And maybe, if he was lucky, she'd let him.

Maybe he could fix her bruises, once and for all.

***

A little ficlet/quintuple drabble I wrote. Inspired by the word bruises. I feel like this could be a good intro to a longer fic or oneshot. Maybe one day I will add to it. For now though it'll just remain as this as I'm challenging myself to write more drabbles/ficlets because even my one shots usually end up being at least 2k words. I have been physically incapable of writing anything short for Kara and Lee thus far and I'm wanting to change that so this is one of my first attempts. I have another I posted in a Tumblr community and another that is in my Google docs. But that's only 3 (around 1500 words) out of around the total 170,000 words I have written for this pair/fandom. That says a lot haha. I have a tendency to overcomplicate things or at least struggle to write any simple and more vague one shots so I am forcing myself to do exactly that at least a little bit more. So far I like the results and hope I can keep coming up with good ones. I will be posting this on AO3 as well within the next day or so just y'all are aware haha. Feel free to let me know your thoughts too :)

[katyspersonal]

Absurd how my biological father was so negligent about my general existence that mom had to divorce him for this same reason (it was like life-threatening). It was my very early years iirc. Like, according to my mom, he dipped out as soon as he learned he had a girl and not a boy xd

Then my first stepdad so obviously wanted a son that he kept deliberately rooting out any and all femininity out of me - hobbies, toys, clothes, etc. He kept taking me for fishing, tried to teach me how cars worked, often pulled me together with him to watch sports like soccer, groaned and got passive-aggressive when I wanted a doll or to watch a princess movie, encouraged me to dress like a goddamn mine worker etc xd It was my age from 3 to 8, until mom HAD to divorce this one and pick up that prick..

And then my second stepdad caused types of abuse that will demonetize me upon mentioning, but on more "tame" scale he on the other hand was so aggressively insistent of me being a """real""" girl/woman. Like I swear he was policing every single hobby, speech pattern or look when it was not feminine, he would police even every single feeling I had because "but a woman should this" "a woman should that" etc. Trying to raise me to be a model housewife. As a result, I developed revoltion for cooking, doing make-up, putting even minimal care in my looks and being rude, blunt and physically incapable of being polite or gentle. And I swear I still see red when anyone as much as mentions me being motherly / mother in the future @_@ That lasted right until my adulthood (8-18)

I just think in retrospective it is funny how I got all types of father-figure-inflicted abuse like goddamn pok3mon gym badges hfjjygh All because I had to get the short end of being a part of sexually dymorphic species huh. -_- Was it so hard to be born a snail or something 🐌 But in retrospective, this might explain a lot about why I abhor gender roles, obsession with gender presentation and gatekeeping/controlling masculinity and femininity so much (it applies to both queer communities and conservatives because people do be weird and keep building their own limitations no matter the ideology smh). It is like I got "trained" to have a common sense by effect. 🤔 Like, usually someone experiences only one of these sorts of mistreatments (or none). And I just got to try everything xD

It also explains why I grew up to be a cute-looking woman wearing a dress and a cute flower pin and loving cute things but behaving like an absolute filthy gremlin type of a troublemaker boy that also curses like sailor hfhhhvj I am like, opposite of what was inflicted on me 😎👍

[ghostlyfeelings]

after that night in your living room sometime in october last year, i felt my heart break for what i had hoped would be the final time. i hugged you and asked if we could kiss, thinking it would be the last time. so i went on and i lived my life. i got drunk on tuesdays in my friends basement and after many of these nights, i met a boy. i got those butterfly feelings. it all felt so exciting. i felt like a school girl again. it was nothing serious. you felt the distance, so you picked me up and cried. told me about how you had had some great epiphany. about how much you loved me and just couldn't lose me. how you'd go to therapy. how pale your life seems in comparison to when you had me. we went back to your place. we went back to the same dance. same hollow romance. the same highs and the same lowest of lows. i still cried at the ends of my desperation alone in my room. months went by without us calling it a thing. serious but not serious enough. i was nose diving to my death so i asked you to hold me. i even told you about how i felt i needed you to hold me together. i remember feeling my heart break again when you wouldn't, and when you told me that all those months ago, that conversation was mostly lies you made up. that you felt you had to tell me what you knew i wanted to hear so that you could keep me in some way. i told you to get out of my room. get out of my house. i wanted to crawl into a hole and die. it felt like you had physically ripped my heart into shreds. well you don't know this, but you actually did. so much that i am not capable of loving someone else. i have tried to move on. i tried to live this life. all the while, remaining friends with you because that's what you wanted. i can go meet men, i can flirt, and laugh, and let them gently take my hand. i can kiss, and i can fuck, and i can laugh at them when they are telling me all those lines ive heard before. somehow though, i am stopped short. incapable of any real connection. far too afraid of the emotions and the pain. i feel us like a fresh wound that is never getting better. i still wish it was you holding me, kissing me, while also wishing it was you just a little bit older and maturer. i hold onto this wish a little while longer despite this heavy feeling in my chest that this is it, this is all it will ever be and if i don't give up, if i don't ever fully leave, i will be bound to you forever and when you find a new women to love, what do you think that will leave of me? absolutely nothing.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Music ask:

3:A song that reminds you of summertime

15:A song that is a cover by another artist

30:A song that reminds you of yourself

Okay, for the first one, sound wise (not looking at lyrics) Apollo by Last Dinosaurs.

Also, Minivan by Marco Aziel, in terms of lyrics and just sounds/vibes.

For the second one, I really like the Everybody Knows cover from the Justice League movie, which I'm pretty sure is by Sigrid?

hm. one that reminds me of myself? okay so i'm physically incapable of being concise so i couldn't choose just one, but I tried to keep it fairly short lol. (it's ALSO fairly short because aurora sent the same ask and I was working on it when your ask came through)

Pop Shuvit (Hall of Meat, DUH) by Hot Mulligan

Not gonna do specific lyrics for this one but basically yeah, this is me, especially when I get more depressed because it does feel like time is going so fast around me-- my friend even has a specific name for it when we talk. Syrup brain. For when the world's going too fast around you. Waffle brain is for when you're going too fast for the world. And the there's nothing being underneath, yeah. I got diagnosed with depression when I was six. I've always felt sort of hollow, because that's all I can remember feeling.

How Do You Know It's Not Armadillo Shells? by Hot Mulligan

So scared that you don't want me here In the corner of the living room

Social Anxiety is very real. I'm so worried I'm being annoying all the time and I'm not wanted, etc.

And I am not the type to go out every night 'Cause I just need some time To know what's wrong in my head

This isn't as true now, but when I was younger I definitely wasn't exactly... social. I just had so many things going on that I couldn't handle it, and I do really regret that now because I did do some really stupid stuff to people I cared about because of it.

I'm always disappointed in the things I write

What a vibe. What's that quote, the one about always being disappointed in things you create because it's you who created them? Anyway that's the vibe.

Even when I speak it seems the words'll never come out right

Words are so unbelievably hard and I absolutely do mess up because I mean one thing but nobody else understands what I mean.

So yeah. Thanks for sending the ask, Ebony!!

[rosedmuse]

point(e)less; haruseonne 1000 days

happy 1000 haruseonne days!

i originally wanted an a10-related au but it didn't feel right for my 1000 days with haruto so instead of overcomplicating things, i went with the au that encapsulates the essence of who i am as a person. :3

so here's a very smol piece of the whole a3 ballet au gig i have going krazy in my head and in my heart!

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

Port de bras. Pique, step, developpe. Glissade. Assemblé into a double cabriole; hold the arabesque. And then, chasse, pique turn once, saute de basque, and land in attitude derrièreー

"Stop. Do that one more time, from the top."

"Hah!? What did I even do wrong now?"

Another late night, overtime stay at the studio. It's way past rehearsal hours now, so no dancer's supposed to be within GOD-za vicinity anymore; save for some of the staff and guards. But then, audition day for the role of Prince Siegfried in the ballet classic 'Swan Lake' is closing in very quickly, and my desired partner and I still have quite a lot of our work cut out for us.

"You have to elongate your developpe en avant more, really hold your arabesque, and make sure you land facing the audience in your attitude." I try to keep my critiques as concise as possible.

"Oh. That so? But I thought I was already doing all those..." Haruto furrows his brows and frowns. It isn't an expression made out of frustration per se, but more so of confusion.

It hasn't been that long since Haruto started ballet; in fact, his promotion from first artist to soloist happened only earlier this season. And if he does get casted as Prince Siegfried this time around, who knows, maybe another sweet promotion to first soloist is what's in store for him next. But he's improved so much in such time; even if he often rides high on praise, he'll insist mentally to himself that he's got an even longer way to go. He never changed being a hardworker, and I like that about him.

Well, I like everything about him to begin with.

"Enjoy watching me struggle with my variation?" He asks, while he takes a short break to secure the laces on both of his worn out shoes more tightly.

"Hm, not always. But I do love seeing your progress critique after critique." I hand over a water bottle to him, forgetting not to sneak in another one of the many compliments I have about him that he deserves to hear every now and then.

"So you do enjoy seeing me struggle," he says, accepting the bottle and shaking his head in disbelief. "You can be a real meanie sometimes too, y'know? More than I ever was before, even."

A lighthearted laugh escapes my lips and reduces the built up tension caused by hours and hours of practice inside the quiet room. The playful banter exchanged amidst our exhaustion leaves a creative rhythm in the air that can only be heard and recognized by us, two. Our unwavering devotion and yearning for the stage binds not only our careers together, but also our very hearts, most importantly.

"Stay with me, Seonne," Haruto requests, ignoring completely the beads of sweat forming all over his forehead and dripping down either side of his temples. "Just a few more runs and we'll call it a day, I promise."

I abruptly rise, toes aching a fair but tolerable bit from moving around in pointe shoes for more than eight hours now, eager to convince him that that is no where near a good idea. Setting down the music player containing recordings of each of our solos and pas de deux, I walk over to his crouched figure and kneel before him.

"Haruto-san." My index finger's right in front of his nose. "I'm sure you mean, just one last run, yes?"

"But, Seonneー"

I place my raised index finger over his lips, cutting him and his almost unreasonable reasons short.

"We're both well aware that GOD-za, as a ballet company, is extremely driven by the results of our shows. Just what do you think will Reni-san say when he finds out we're overexerting ourselves with our own set of rehearsals every night? If we become physically incapable of performing our roles due to overfatigue, then we're doomed!"

Haruto brings his eyes down to his lap, where his hands rest, seemingly in contemplation. I didn't want to sound too harsh, but it's the truth. We can't keep doing this until audition day. He can't keep forcing himself to go beyond the limits of his body. I can't afford to risk seeing him seated among the audience members with a broken ankle while I'm stuck on stage.

Clearing his throat, he tries for a compromise. "What if Iー"

"We run the whole thing?" I firmly insist. "From Allegro, to the Adage, to your solo, then mine, and lastly the Coda."

A couple moments more of careful consideration, and my Prince Siegfried understudy finally gives in. "Fine. Let's settle with that for tonight."

"Yay!" I happily cheer, throwing myself at him and wrapping my arms around his neck is an act of pure instinct. The fact that we are still technically in 'public' flew way outside my scope of consciousness. "Oops, sorry. Got a little excited there..."

"It's alright," Haruto flashes that cheeky grin of his, before quickly leaving a small peck over my browline. "After all, I can't have my dearest first soloist and soon to be principal dancer ruining their Swan Lake debut now, can I?"

"Absolutely not!"

With a race to see who gets to press play on our music player first, Haruto and Iーno. Prince Siegfried and Odile take over the rest of the night. For just how point(e)less would it be if we hadn't gone all out like it truly is our last?

Dancing to the beat of Tchaikovsky's greatest masterpiece is one thing; but to be sharing this beautiful work of art together with the person who I consider is the other half of me, is everything I ever dreamed of.

[supermarine-silvally]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @chameliyun!

How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight I think! Mostly longform which is why the number is so low lol

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

503,612

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently I'll write for Death Note, My Hero Academia, Hunter x Hunter, Demon Slayer, One Piece, Soul Eater, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, and Doctor Who. I have VLD fic up on my ao3 but I don't write for that fandom anymore lol

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Starbound (VLD, 294), Ground Zero (MHA, 223), Far Longer Than Forever (VLD, 76), Tales From Wammy's House (DN, 62), and The Ghosts Within Us (HxH, 57)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I'm usually super late to respond lol but yeah I try to get to all of them! I love interacting with people and I treasure all the feedback I get!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

All my ao3 fics (excluding Tales From Wammy's House, which is a collection of short stories I wrote as part of a fandom event) are unfinished, but I know which one is gonna have the angstiest ending... no spoilers though!

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, they're all basically unfinished so no spoilers!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Haven't so far so hopefully I never will lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I am physically incapable of writing smut. I know some ace people write it no problem, but... I am not one of those people lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I'm open to crossovers but I can't recall any that I've actually written. Usually I prefer to do them in the same sort of genre (for instance, a MHA/Marvel crossover or Pirates of the Caribbean/One Piece kind of thing where there's a sort of plausibility in setting)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it. Not sure why anyone would bother though lol

12. What's the longest you've spent working on one fic? And the shortest?

Longest: I've been working on A Shot in the Dark since 2020 though I don't update it much anymore. But I don't want to abandon it at this time so I'll count it as ongoing.

Shortest: Tales From Wammy's House since it was for a week-long challenge lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Second Chances is co-written with the amazing @til-the-static-comes :)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I'm a big canon/OC shipper so I'm really attached to my canon/OC (and OC / OC) pairings moreso than most canon/canon, buuuut my favourite all-time canon/canon ship is still the Doctor/Rose Tyler; you can pry them from my cold dead hands. Killugon (Gon Freecss/Killua Zoldyck from HxH) is a close second.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

A Shot in the Dark is already so bloody long and I'm still a ways away from finishing it, but I'm gonna try, I promise.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, I think. And I'm pretty good at character-centric stories.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not great at poetic, descriptive writing since I'm usually more interested in what characters are thinking/feeling rather than their external traits/environment. That might be more of a style thing though. I do have a bad habit of making characters monologue for a little too long sometimes, and relying too much on internal monologues too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Oooh okay so I actually have so many thoughts about this!! I think it's a really effective tool if done properly-- I frequently use languages other than English in my writing since a lot of my characters tend to be bilingual. For me, it's really important to use it in the right moments that make sense within the narrative, and keep a logical kind of consistency to that rule. In my own writing -- I'll use my MHA fic Ground Zero as an example since I do it a lot there -- I like utilizing other languages in moments that reveal something about the character (Kova's foreignness/identity as a biracial/cultural Japanese-Ukrainian teenager is a major theme of her character and of the story) or when it creates moments in which a character's dialogue is supposed to be impenetrable to other characters in that scene AND THEREFORE to the reader as well-- but I DON'T use it (even though the character would technically be speaking another language in that scene) when I WANT the reader to understand what's being said. In Ground Zero, when Kova is having a phone conversation with her Ukrainian father, she's obviously speaking Ukrainian to him, but I don't write the conversation in Ukrainian because I want the audience to understand the dialogue-- and because that would be really, really annoying for a reader to have to wade their way through, assuming most of my readers are not fluent in Ukrainian (and neither am I, for the record-- I know a bit, but not enough that I don't have to check with external resources created by native speakers). But in contrast, when Kova is with her Japanese friends, if I drop a Ukrainian word/phrase into the conversation, the reader is getting the experience of the friends, and both the characters and the reader are meant to share in that confusion until Kova translates it. (Example: Bakugou is not meant to know that Kova has been calling him a dickhead (khuylo), but the WAY she says it is meant to convey that she's being derogatory so he's somewhat aware he's being insulted without me having to put a translator's note right after). I do translate and put the Latin lettering (as opposed to the Cyrillic) in the notes section at the bottom of each chapter, though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ever? Pokemon. On ao3, VLD.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm so close to finishing Ground Zero and it has such a special place in my heart so I'll pick that one :)

no pressure tagging: @shrinkthisviolet, @deathbecomesnerds, @chickensarentcheap, @antivanruffles, @til-the-static-comes, and anyone else who sees this and wants to!