#I wonder if Wildfire would be one of his customers for this stuff or not?

[feroluce]

Connecting dots tonight (didn't connect shit, I've connected them, etc) because of this post about item descriptions to do with Sampo I saw a few days ago and! I feel like there are so many interesting things that could be implied from this!! Because the recipe for the High-Tech Protective Gear is given to you by Bronya (before the IPC invaded Belobog!), who says this little interesting tidbit about it:

This is an item from before the Eternal Freeze, 700 years ago. Even to the rest of the universe, it would be SORELY outdated. It cannot be made in Belobog anymore due to the loss of entire eras. It is effectively useless; this recipe had to be somewhere gathering dust, kept around solely for archival purposes. There is no reason for Sampo to know about this item or have any idea how it works and yet. AND YET. He's just running around selling knock offs!!

He shouldn't even know how to make these, but the fact that he does means Sampo either

had the blueprints from off-world before he came to Belobog (most likely but also most boring answer)

broke into Qlipoth Fort and copied down the blueprints (completely plausible - he's possibly shown doing exactly that in his splash art)

found another copy out in the ruins of the old world (also completely plausible - Sampo is astoundingly resilient against both the Fragmentum and the cold, as noted by Lynx haha)

Meanwhile, the Inferior Protective Gear recipe comes from an NPC in the underground, and when she gives it to you, she talks about building robots and the robot fighting scene sorry about the quality I didn't have screenshots for her dialogue so I had to use wiki

Which makes me feel like it's safe to say that the inferior gear is mostly being used in the underground, especially by the vagrants and their robots for fights, because...well, who else would use it? Cocolia has made it illegal to explore too far into the Snow Plains, and besides, it's way too dangerous for most civilians even WITH gear. The Silvermane Guards are funded by official sources, they have no reason to rely on Sampo for armor. So it makes sense for an underground mechanic to know the recipe; there's probably not as much market for it up in the overworld.

And if you look at the descriptions, you can see why this probably wasn't something that could be made in Belobog anymore; it requires a charging system of some sort.

We know it's not a problem with the basic materials because all three ingredients can be found right in the administrative district. But the underground only has two of them; somehow, despite being in the planet's crust, and literally crawling with robots...there is no metal down there. It isn't found anywhere, sold by anyone, or dropped by anything. And metal just so happens to be the one ingredient Sampo replaces in his knock off version.

The Inferior Gear uses trash instead, something which, going by the words of that same mechanic, is MORE than abundant in the underground- any good quality parts are extremely difficult to come by down there.

Anyway, all his shadiness aside, I love the implication that Sampo is smart enough to be able to take this item that no one else on the planet probably knows anything about, and was able to figure out what he could replace, and how, and with what, in order to make it easily accessible to the people of the underground, even without access to overworld resources. Because his version DOES work! It literally gives you the exact same amount of defense boost as the IPC one!

Someone should absolutely still knock him around for it, though, world's most slappable face fr fjkdsjfdkjafk

[angel-of-the-moons]

Kuai Liang/Harumi x fem reader who is really dense and doesn’t realize the two are attracted to her. So dense the two of them have to spell it out for her cause no amount of flirting is getting through her head.

sfw or nsfw I really don’t care.

NONNY I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS WE NEED SOME HARUMI CONTENT! Also enjoy my totally original and not punny at all title

Pyromance

Kuai Liang (Scorpion) x Harumi Shirai x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluffy stuff, some flirting, reader being oblivious

A/N: Given that there's only a small tidbit of info on Harumi in Liu Kang's timeline, I'm going off of what little is mentioned in-game and on Wikipedia. Also deadass I want a mandarin duck so fucking bad.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You weren't sure why you were born the way that you were. But when a man with glowing eyes showed up at your crappy little cabin in the mountains, saying he was a god? Yeah, only you would have that kind of interaction.

You didn't believe him until he displayed his powers with fire and explained to you that your powers were only a danger to you.

Yes, powers. You had something called pyromancy, you could summon flames or heat things with your very mind and hands.

So when this "Liu Kang" told you about a clan in Japan called the Shirai Ryu? And that they would welcome you with open arms? You were hesitant to accept.

On one hand, your powers were dangerous, and if you continued to slip up you'd wind up burning your own cabin down, cause a wildfire or... hurt someone. That last one was your greatest fear.

But on the other hand? You'd never even been outside Montana. And Liu Kang wanted you to fly across the world to friggin' Japan? The thought scared you shitless.

You gave him your word that you would think it over for two days. Liu Kang offered to bring someone to you to explain how the clan worked, and you accepted the offer. Perhaps hearing from someone from there would help your decision along.

Liu Kang returned in a ball of fire, alongside him was a woman dressed in a gold and crimson kimono, her long, silky black hair hanging down past her shoulders, twin katanas slung from her obi.

This was Harumi Shirai, for whom the clan was named. Her husband, the Grandmaster of their clan, Kuai Liang was indisposed with new recruits, as was his younger brother Tomas.

She stayed with you, explaining the nuances of their clan and how open-minded they were to your situation. They offered to allow you to bring your comforts (which were admittedly few. You were a bit of a recluse out of necessity due to your powers.) to their compound if you accepted.

She was a beautiful woman, and her words and voice put your nerves at ease.

Of course, two days later. You accepted.

You found yourself in a bit of a culture shock, certainly. But true to Harumi's word, the Shirai Ryu were accepting of you in a way you never anticipated. Training with Kuai Liang allowed you to feel... normal. You'd never felt normal a day in your life. It was nice, to feel so in-place where you always were an enigma before.

Harumi and Kuai were very warm to you (pun intended!) as time went on and your skills flourished. You weren't one for combat, but you excelled in using your powers for defensive stances. When Harumi began teaching you to use her katanas (such an honor) she and Kuai were proud and impressed you used your flames now so effortlessly to ignite the blades without melting it.

To congratulate your progress, they had a custom blade made for you. You were honored that they accepted you so wholly and you found yourself wondering if you truly wanted to return to rural Montana after learning of all of the wonders you'd been blind to before.

What you never really realized though, was that Harumi and Kuai would often take time to spend with you, speak with you about things not related to the clan or your training.

Kuai would ask about your life, your hobbies. When you admitted you liked flowers, he gifted you two potted spider lilies.

Their alien appearance immediately enamored you, as you'd never seen them before, their bright scarlet colors catching the eye and brightening up your room.

And of course, with Harumi... She would join you in the baths. In Japan it was fairly common of course, just not as traditional as what was built in the Shirai Ryu compound.

You were never one for insecurities and Harumi loved that about you. In the baths you would talk about anything that would come to mind, and she would often find herself drawn to your hair, of all things. She adored touching it and putting the shampoo and conditioners in it for you, and combing it out. The color and feel of it beneath her fingers quickly became a favorite.

But despite all of this you were completely, frustratingly and blissfully unaware that Harumi and Kuai Liang were in fact romantically interested in you. Their little gestures were so obvious, it even had Tomas facepalming when nobody was looking because of how painful it was to watch you not even recognize their obvious intent to court you.

It became a topic of hushed gossip and side-betting amongst the clan, wondering who would crack first, or when--if ever--you realized what they were doing.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

"I swear... She's so sweet... but so dense!" Harumi laughed, the back of her hand over her forehead as she laid on their bed.

Kuai Liang shook his head with a smile as he undid his robes, leaving his torso bare as he looked at his wife. He shared her humorous exasperation with your oblivious nature, but still found it endearing.

Kuai knelt on the bed and leaned over Harumi, giving her a soft kiss to her lips as she sunk her fingers in his dark hair, tugging it free of its tie; allowing the dark strands to fall around his face as he smiled down at her.

"Perhaps it is time we drop the subtlety, my love." Kuai said softly, resting on his elbow as he looked down at Harumi.

"Do you think we should?" She hummed, trailing her knuckles across his jawline, reaching up with her fingertips to gently trace the scar going down his face.

"I don't see why not. Otherwise we will be performing this dance for some time." He grinned.

"Kuai, what if she isn't interested?" Harumi sighed sadly, her brows raising in concern.

"Then we respect her wishes and accept her friendship instead. I would be glad for her companionship either way." He said simply.

Harumi's beautiful, Cupid's bow lips curled into a smile.

"You're right. Either way, having her close is a blessing. One we will accept no matter the context. We can speak with her in the morning."

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You were standing beneath the sakura and plum blossom trees surrounding the sizeable pond in the compound. It was your favorite spot to be because it had the least traffic and the small bridge going over it was perfect for watching the koi as they danced beneath the water.

But your favorite place to sit was beneath the trees near the shoreline. Due mostly in part to the small flock of Mandarin ducks that called the compound home, the little feathery critters took a shine to you, especially after you nursed one of their flock back to health when her poor little leg got broken.

That and, well. They knew you had grapes at the ready, plus a small container of oats you'd feed them out of your hand.

The Mandarin ducks were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen; the males' colors were like a silky orchestra of hues and cute little plumages that admittedly looked a tad silly, but still looked beautiful. The females were lacking in the colors the males had, but you adored their little spots and speckles.

Oftentimes, you'd wind up with one of the younger males cuddled comfortably in your lap, tucking himself under his wings to nap on the silk of your robes while you stroked his feathers.

And it was here that Harumi and Kuai Liang found you, sitting beneath the trees, blossoms that had been shaken loose by the breeze falling around you like a beautiful rain as you fed the ducks from your palm, laughing to yourself as their little bills tickled your hand.

They stood there, merely watching for a few moments until Kuai nudged Harumi on, and they slowly made their way to you as a young female duck hopped into your lap, trying to snitch some extra snacks from you.

Their footsteps were light, to avoid frightening your feathery little companions as they closed on you.

Harumi spoke your name softly and you looked up with an abashed smile. "Oh! I would get up, but..." You looked done at the female water fowl in your lap, as she snuggled down, her tail feathers wiggling contentedly.

Kuai couldn't help but chuckle as he and Harumi sat next to you. The little birds seemed so fond of you. It was cute.

He slowly reached out to try and pet the female in your lap, but she puffed up and made a rather angry noise that plainly said "back off", which made you and Harumi giggle.

"It would seem your charm does not work on all women, my love." Harumi smirked.

"Yes, yes, that is painfully obvious." Kuai replied with a smile, shaking his head as the duck turned back around in your lap, accepting your soothing pets to her feathers.

"Is something the matter?" You ask them curiously.

Harumi and Kuai Liang exchange a long, silent glance which slightly concerns you.

"Kuai and I discussed something last night." Harumi told you.

"Okay..."

"And we both decided to ask you something." Kuai continues. "You understand the things we do for you? Not the training, but the smaller things."

"Like... My sword? And the flowers?" You say, your brows furrowing slowly.

"Yes." Harumi chuckles. "Do you understand why we did those things for you?"

You tilt your head. "To... be... nice?"

Harumi and Kuai chuckle together, grinning at one another at how sweetly oblivious you were. They look back at you and Kuai talks. "And you don't have any other inclination, dear? At all?"

Other inclination? What could--did he just call you dear? What could he be talking...

Your eyes get big and you cover your mouth in sheer horror, your face flushing in embarrassment as you awkwardly look away.

"Oh."

Harumi giggles and has to cover her mouth and cough to chase it away, Kuai Liang merely shakes his head and chuckles softly.

"We've been trying to court you. You're a wonderful person, an amazing woman." Harumi says, giving you a soft look. "We've both been rather... Smitten with you, as of late. We'd hoped you'd realize what our intentions were on your own, but..."

You cover your face and make an embarrassed squeak. "Oh, my god..."

"However." Kuai Liang said, holding his hands up. "We both agreed last night that if you do not reciprocate, we will still gladly accept your friendship."

Your hands drop and you look at them, the surprise evident on your face as you watch Harumi smile at you, her hand slipping into Kuai's.

"We hold nothing but respect for whatever decision you shall make." She told you.

You couldn't believe it. It just seemed so unreal..so unreal that these two amazingly strong, wonderful, beautiful people took a look at you and decided that they wanted you?

You. Of all the people they could possibly pick? A little country bumpkin from Montana?

You look down, petting your little duck friend as she contentedly snuggled you, a couple of her flock-mates snuggling your left thigh.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"...I... I'm open to trying?" You finally say, giving them a shy smile.

Harumi and Kuai's tense postures dropped as they both smiled widely, and Harumi leaned in to kiss your cheek happily.

"We will do our best to prove everything we mean to you." She swears.

Kuai Liang moves towards you and leans in to do the same, his hand brushing your cheek. "We will do everything--"

He was cut off by the female duck in your lap turning around, her tail wiggling and her feathers fluffing up as she opens her mouth and makes more angry noises, making Kuai lean away from you before she is angered any further.

"Ah... The only woman you cannot charm!" Harumi teased as the two of you broke out laughing; whilst Kuai was still unable to give you the small display of affection his wife had given you, all because of the feathered menace that took residence in your comfy lap.

He merely glared at the offensive little bird in your lap as she snuggled back down, staring Kuai back right in the eye as if to say "try me".

[partyinthemysterymachine]

Harry + betrayed (looks at a&s au stuff like :3c)

looks at you like 🔪

===

Every time the mug came out of the steaming hot dishwasher, Harry clasped it in both hands. The ceramic was always scalding, and his palms always threatened to blister. Clouds reeking of dishwasher detergent lifted and swept over his forearm, humid as a summer’s stifling rain, its pungency sickening his heart. 

He hated to wash this mug. 

Bright and early at six o’clock every morning, Harry made coffee. It steeped dark and bitter, just how they liked it. The first pour went into his mug; the second filled his own. Then both were taken to the small, round table in the corner of their kitchen. Harry set the mug down on the wood itself to the right of the round, rattan woven placemats they’d found in a bargain bin at Williams-Sonoma. Harry’s coffee went on the placemat itself, edging the rim, at his left.

How charming it was to have their mugs across from each other like that. He always liked how they seemed to be having a conversation through the coffee’s dissipating flames of white steam. As they drained their caffeine and burned their throats, the heat shocking their stomachs, they’d talk. 

Talking didn’t necessarily mean words were used. No, words weren’t his forte, though he relished every sound that rolled off his tongue. He spoke with his face and through his hands, and if Harry ever had his way, he’d spend the hours morn to midnight simply gazing at his face.

Two hours later, Harry stood and took the cold, untouched mugs to the sink. Down the drain went the wasted coffee, dumped out at the same time. A swish of water from the faucet did a quick and fine job of cleaning them out, and Harry’s went, dripping, onto the counter. Then he ran the water again to piping hot, abusing skin rough and chapped from this daily ritual of cleaning, cleaning out his ice cold coffee, cleaning, cleaning out the dots of mold he’d let grow for two weeks because he couldn’t let that go, cleaning, cleaning out that damn spot, that damn spot, that damn spot.

The mug was as hot as it was when it came out of the dishwasher, and Harry clasped it in both hands. His teeth tried to send their roots into his skull with his jaw clamped like that, and he wished his tongue, sucked hard to the roof of his mouth and tastebuds rough as sandpaper, would swell and choke him. Every time it didn’t, which was every morning, every single morning for the past three years, Harry called it betrayal.

His kiss held tender on the warm rim. It was the last place his lips had laid where Harry could kiss him, for he couldn’t kiss his own cheek. Like every morning, his eyes slipped closed and he thought of their daily coffee date at their kitchen table. Autumn was in full golden, fiery bloom. People swarmed to Vermont to lose their breath to the vast garden of nature’s heavenly, untamed wildfire that never burned. 

Every single fucking morning it was autumn again, the mug had been scorching hot, then chilly, the phantom pressure of his kiss lingered on his cheek, and Harry tried to kiss him back too on ceramic that had been the last tangible thing to experience his lips.

Today, he set the mug down on the counter alongside the one in its puddle. The water brimmed its mismatched mate immediately and would leave an incomplete circle in its wake after Harry would take it up and wrap it in a soft towel. That puddle would dry on its lonesome over the course of as many minutes; Harry wrapped up his personal mug, too.

Remaining coffee got poured and locked in a thermos. They were placed in the coveted seat beside the driver’s - shotgun! one’s supposed to yell to reserve it for themselves - tucked safely behind a plain old box. 

The ignition chittered on. Rancid boomed and rattled the Jeep’s speakers. Harry absently wiggled the shiny, custom-made Magic Eight Ball fortune teller stick shift knob. He glanced down. ‘It is decidedly so,’ promised the triangular face washed behind blue, its text pressed on the circular window. 

A draw; and exhale. The YJ Wrangler shifted into gear, easing back out of the driveway, Harry’s arm slung around the shotgun seat and head turned to watch over his shoulder as he safely maneuvered to their personal gravel road leading to and from their remote, comfortable Vermont hideaway.

It’d probably take five, six hours, give or take, to get to Maine. He was looking forward to their coffee date. Five out of the seven days of the week Harry drove to Maine to hang out on the shore of Toluca Lake. Coffee was served into their mugs; he kept his at his side, and his tucked into the sand and mud at the water’s breach. 

Sometimes he’d talk, update his husband on his books, their daughter, the latest news that did and didn’t matter. Other times he’d sit in silence, listening and watching the new face of a man he loved. Harry was there in rain, sleet, and snow. He’d all but frozen his ass off before out there and sweated buckets in the heat. But they had their spot, and that’s where he’d always sit.

Silent Hill rested to the south. They took a vacation there once. Harry hates how it looks out across Toluca. Take your fucking eyes somewhere else, he regularly thinks. Don’t fucking look at him.

It oversees. One day, Harry’s promised five days out of the seven in the week, he’s going to tear that town asunder by his own bare hands. 

Tomorrow might be that day. Harry rises to his feet. It is decidedly so. He fetches the Jeep’s constant tenant for the last three years. It is decidedly so. 

“I hope you liked your coffee, honey,” he says to the lake lapping at his boots as he wades into snapping cold. “So, I asked the eight ball if I’d see you today,” Harry Mason offhandedly tells his husband residing in the lake. “Guess what it said? ‘It is decidedly so.’ Take that as you will. I know you know what I’ve planned to do, honeylove. Don’t get up in my tits about it,” warns the older man, now appropriately submerged mid-chest. “I’m not gonna do it today. Doesn’t feel right. But I thought it’d be nice to see you, anyway.”

“So you’re wondering why I brought the box in with me? Well, I’m glad you asked! For one, I fixed it up and made it waterproof,” he smirks, cradling it in his arm and popping it open. “And two.. c’mon, now. You know I’d lose these if I didn’t keep ‘em in here.”

Two pendants, no bigger than his thumbnail, each on their own thin chain, dangled just skimming the water’s surface. Two pendants, amber and glinting, somehow even in the thick grey mist rolling in from Silent Hill. “Check these out. I got ‘em made a few months ago and I’ve just now had the balls to bring ‘em out. It’s because the eight ball said I’d see you today. So.. here. One of them’s for you. I figure you can make yours glow in there, firefly. You have a knack for lightin’ up the dark.”

Harry chuckles, wagging his head back and forth, mocking himself. “Yeah, yeah, mushy, whatever, I’m a dork. Thbhtghbh. What’re you gonna do, divorce me? Shoulda thought about that before you went fishing, babe.” He collects the chains and their sculpted fireflies into his fist. One kiss is enough for both. Then he smiled, looked into the lake, and felt comforted by the thought that that sweet, pale man with yellow wheat field hair was watching him.

Projection is a very real, very psychedelic thing, for sometimes, Harry thinks he can see his face.

The water sways around his wrist. He gazes into Toluca Lake and waits, and hopes that the magic of the eight ball is true.

Will I get to see James today?

It is decidedly so.

If he were to do it all over again from the top, do you think he’d still do it this way?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I love him?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I’ll never forgive him?

It is decidedly so.

When the day comes, I’ll kill that motherfucker myself. I dunno how it’s gonna happen, but it’s gonna happen. Fucking asshole. He knows that, right?

….

.. right?

“I gotta go soon, babe,” Harry murmurs to his husband, James Mason (formerly Sunderland). “I’m gonna leave one with you. I’ll be back tomorrow. If you wanna trade, we can. Fuck, I don’t wanna get a fuckin’ yeast infection out here,” he gripes, turning to wade out of the lake. “Seriously, James. Not like a yeast infection wouldn’t stop me from comin’ out here but you bet your ass you’re gonna hear all fucking about it, because it will be your fault, and I fucking hate you, so goddamn fucking much, honeylove.”

Harry makes it out to the shore. He takes the box to its honored seat in shotgun! James’s coffee gets thrown into Toluca; he pours his out where he’d sat. Then the mason with rusted tools scans his exhausted, old, heavily lined eyes across the scenic lake where an orange (rare, so rare, extremely rare and mean everything) firefly swims. He’ll never get over the betrayal. It doesn’t matter if he understands it. It doesn’t matter that he’s (and he’s) been waiting for it long before they’d met. 

After all those thousands of years of looking for each other, this is how he chooses to betray him: like Judas, with a kiss.

A kiss on a ceramic mug that is going to be washed again today, and tomorrow morning, and will scald his hands.

A kiss, a kiss, a kiss from a man whose lips promised I love you with a simple brush. Lips Harry hasn’t felt in three years; his heart can break even more.

Will I ever get to kiss him again? Harry asks his stick shift as he drives towards his six (give or take) hour journey home to Vermont.

It is decidedly so, replies the eight ball.

Will it be soon? inquires a widowed man, widowed for the second time.

It is decidedly so, soothes the inky window.

When?

Turn right off this street, guides the knob too small to say so. Fifty miles out. It won’t take long.

Huh? I can barely see with all this fog. Where am I going?

To see James. 

James? What’s he doing all the way out here?

Waiting for you.

.. waiting for me? I’ll get to see him again?! Jeez.. damn, I’ve got a splitting headache all of a sudden .. fifty miles to Silent Hill.. hrm, seems farther than I remember, but.. 

He’s waiting for you.

.. forgot to clean up the coffee at home.. m’sure it’ll be fine.. Cheryl’ll be over at some point.. heh.. can’t believe he wants to spend our anniversary in Silent Hill.. fuckin’ weirdo.. a vow renewal? And he calls me disgusting..

He’s waiting.

I’m comin’. I’ll be there soon, James. It’s gonna be alright. I can’t wait to see you. We’re gonna have a great vacation, just the two of us, aren’t we, sweetheart?  

It is decidedly so.

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

The Eagle of Unasta and The Dragon of Zarcade Part 2

Look, I’m in a funk ok? I will get back to my Viking’s stuff as soon as I get this story out of my system. @waiting4inspiration​ you still might like this even though it doesn’t pertain to any particular fandom that you like. In case you missed it, here’s part 1.  Enjoy part 2. 

Part 2

In the morning, you woke up, feeling well rested, and rejuvenated, dreaming of flying with Zaq some more among other things and when you fully woke up, you realized you had slept in the cloak but you hadn’t sweated in it, if anything you had been perfectly comfortable in it. It smelled of the night air and Zaq and you couldn’t help but bring it to your face and breathed in as deeply as you could as you marveled at its softness against your face. 

He had carried you to bed like you had weighed nothing. Truth be told you were a rather voluptuous woman, shorter than you supposed was average and very curvy but compact and much heavier than you looked because you had more strength and muscle than most realized, so that was a feat in itself because he carried you like you had been barely a feather and he was clearly quite strong himself which you appreciated. 

You got dressed and came down to breakfast at about the same time the rest of your family did as Ester eagerly waived you over to sit next to her again at her table. 

“I thought you’d be in bed for at least another hour.” She murmured under her breath as she gave you a scheming smile. 

“So did I, I have no idea when we got back.” You muttered back, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. “Now I’m just waiting for the floor to drop and my family to throw a fit over what I did when they find out, every Zarcadian here practically saw me riding last night- if my family doesn’t know already- I give it an hour before they do then shit will hit the fan.” You predicted. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so quick to worry. If anything you just gave every Zarcadian here hope that they have half a chance.” She mused which made you snort a laugh into your coffee. 

“Yeah right, like one dance, one ride and two gifts is the magic combination to the Unasta’s lock.” You gave her a disbelieving look. 

“Wait, gifts? What gifts?” She asked. 

“That cloak I was wearing last night on that ride, it was given to me as a gift by Zaq.” You explained. 

“Well a cloak can be just a cloak, it’s an item of clothing that can be bought and sold like any other.” She waived off dismissively. “I’ve been given dozens of cloaks in every color conceivable not to mention a whole new wardrobe of nothing but the finest dragon silk and dragon wool clothes which I'm finding I'm becoming incredibly partial to because they are rather comfortable- no offense to your aunt, but I would happily never wear another corset ever again after I marry Xander. But what makes my clothes special is Zarcadian’s use their dragon’s magic to divine your adult size even when you’re little or even when you’re a newborn, they somehow use it to figure out what your sizes will be when the engagement will be implemented, so that all of your clothes fit you like a glove when they’re given to you, it’s supposed to signify how you were always fated to fit in with the rest of the family and how your place has been carved out for you, although it is uncanny how well it all suits my tastes, the dragon silk and wool takes ages to dye and it has to be carefully crafted for years, which is why Zarcadian fashion tends to be so timeless.” She added. “So what was the second? Please tell me it was a kiss good night though, because I saw the way you eyed him all last night and I know once your eagle eyes lock on, there’s no losing your target and I must say I wholeheartedly approve because you two looked so great together when you were dancing last night.” She gushed. 

“No, it was a dragon tooth blade.” You answered as you pulled it out of your pocket and showed it to her before she took it and took it out of its sheath to inspect it. 

“Huh, interesting.”  she frowned in concentration as she looked it over carefully, using the point to casually clean out her fingernail. “It’s nice, I mean not as nice as mine because I have mine spectacularly bejeweled, to the point I’m afraid the stones will come out if I use it. But you prefer functionality over looks so this suits you incredibly well. Does Zaq have one that is like a masculine version of it? Like a matched set?” She asked hopefully. 

“No, not that I’ve seen, why?”You returned curiously. 

“Well, see here’s the thing, if he had one just like it or a masculine version of it- like it’s a matched set- that means something.” She revealed. 

“What does it mean?” You pressed as you felt vindicated in your gut feeling about it last night. 

“So what the Zarcadians will do for couples is they enchant one big rough stone once the match is set, and it will be the link to join the couple and the stone- usually the nonzarcadian’s favorite stone- and it can be made into anything- jewelry, like a bracelet or a pendant, but the most common is handles for dragon tooth blades. And it’s supposed to signify that even in battle, you will defend each other and that your connection to each other is as strong as the dragon toothed blade it’s attached to. But if he doesn’t have one that matches it- then it’s just a normal dragon toothed blade- and again- those get bought and sold and traded all the time. So either those gifts mean he’s just being nice and generous and trying to befriend you, or they could mean something a bit more serious depending on your point of view.” She explained and you found yourself secretly wishing it was more serious but knew it was too much to hope for.  

“How is the stone enchanted?” You asked because you just had a gut feeling that it wasn’t just some normal dragon toothed blade, you just felt in your bones that this was special, why else would it fit your hand like it was made for it because honestly you had small, dainty, delicate- but supremely strong hands and buying gloves was always a nightmare because none of them seemed to fit right so to have something that suited your hands, was a welcome and refreshing change of pace. 

“Ok, so think of it- like a worry stone but it’s connected to the other half. Whatever you’re feeling- the other can feel it when they touch it and whatever feelings or emotions the other is feeling, you can get a sense of it from them through your half of the stone. It’s not necessarily thoughts per-say- like you can’t ask them a math question and they’ll feed you the answer, cause I tried it and it didn’t work, but it feels like…” She paused as she tried to find the right words to explain it. “You know how you feel sympathy and empathy for another person and you take how they are feeling and you make it your own?” She questioned as you nodded in understanding. 

“It’s like that, like with mine, if I’m missing him or I’m sad or frustrated, and I can hold my dagger and if he’s holding his- he can feel that and vice versa, you can tell that it’s very much how they are feeling and you choose to make it your own or not, it’s a way for the couple to always be connected so that by the time of the wedding, you’re more or less friends and get a chance to get to know their emotional makeup and moods at least.” She explained. 

“So who is Zaq betrothed to anyway?” You felt the need to ask. 

“I have no idea. No one does. His great grandmother announced at his birth that his betrothed will be ‘one of great surprise’, and ‘it is she that will make herself known to him and to his family’ according to Xander who overheard his grandmother and mother talking about it right before they came here. Which is completely against custom because usually Zarcadian men are betrothed from a year up until they are like 10 or however long it takes for a “suitable” wife to come along and be born and once the match is made- it’s practically preached in the town square and everyone knows and word spreads like wildfire and they usually become pen pals and spend a lot of time together as kids and teenagers so that they’re not strangers to each other at their wedding. So either his betrothed is older than him which would be a first for Zarcadians because usually Zarcadian men are a couple of years older than their wives. But a woman of high enough stature or valuable enough that they were simply waiting for the next son to be born and whoever was born the quickest gets the girl because Zaq and several others from the other families were all born within the span of just a couple days of each other, some even hours apart. But I don’t think that’s what happened, or at least the whole story. His whole situation makes me think that they put in a bid for a princess and that great grandma made that announcement before she got an answer back because in this day and age who in their right mind would say no to a Zarcadian? Especially one from the house of Ceda, the second most distinguished house besides the royal family? Well besides your family of course, but the fact that she has maintained that all his life- makes me think that he secretly got rejected but she’s saving face and she doesn’t want anyone to know. So I believe he’s actually single and not betrothed to anyone and that the moment any woman no matter how humble or high her station who expresses any interest in him can have him and great grandma will go ‘Tada see? Somehow it was Miss Random all along.’ And cover her ass for dropping the ball and no one would be any wiser for it. But I mean look at him and his handsome self, if my theory is right- it’s not going to be long before he’s snatched up like this last lemon custard tart.” She hastily snatched up her prize from the tray and stuffed it in her mouth which made you snort another laugh and roll your eyes as you turned the dagger over in your hand, still marveling at how perfectly fit your hand as you wondered what was really going on before you put it away. 

After breakfast you were walking through the solarium, enjoying the exotic flowers from around the world as you held that dagger in your hand in your pocket and mentally called out to Zaq to come and find you and where you were before Zaq seemed to come out of nowhere to answer your unspoken call. 

“Those don’t really have a scent Eagle.” He gently teased which made you smile excitedly before you turned from sniffing them and feeling disappointed that they did indeed, not have a scent, despite their beauty but hoping that your little “test” just proved true. 

“I suppose you already know which ones do Dragon?” You returned with a grin which made his own smirk grow into a smile. 

“I do actually.” He confirmed. 

“Then do lead me to said blooms.” You invited as you gestured for him to lead the way before he offered you his arm which you gratefully took and walked together, your strides naturally syncing with one another, not even wanting to look to see if he was wearing another dagger because you were afraid you would get disappointed that it wouldn't match just in case this was a fluke and you wanted to enjoy this little fantasy of yours a little longer before reality shattered it. 

“So where are the other wolves today? Out hunting again?” You guessed. 

“Yes, trying to anyway,” he confirmed which you hummed in response to. 

“Was there a meaning behind your gifts to me last night? Or are you just a generous person by nature?” You asked wondering if he would speak freely with you, the most you could hope for is he would be honest but he was Zarcadian after all, and you knew they did love their secrets, and wondered how many ulterior motives he had and what they were. 

“Well you are right, I am a generous person by nature, or at least I try to be and there is meaning behind them, an amicable one I assure you.” He answered. 

Well that confirmed that he wanted to be your friend but it didn’t negate the more serious intentions either. 

“Well I am appreciative of the gifts, the cloak fits me well and is perfectly balanced in that it kept me warm but wasn’t suffocating in any way, and this blade is especially exquisite and the handle is extraordinary, I have never had a blade fit my hands as well as this does and it has a beautiful balance of functionality and beauty. The blade your brother Xander gave to Ester is in my opinion, overly decorated to the point that it negates it’s functionality but Ester does love that kind of thing, I’m sure a gem would fall off the moment she would try to use it to spread butter on her toast not that it’ll probably never leave it’s sheathe. However I understand there is some cultural significance considering Xander has one that matches it since it came in a set. She informed me that it’s to signify that they’re a couple, which is a sweet tradition in my opinion, it can make a betrothal easier to accept especially when the parties have little to no choice in the matter.” You ventured as you took it out and continued to appraise it.   

 “It does, but I know that you are not chained to such traditions.” He answered carefully, knowing he would have to choose his words carefully and not spill the beans too soon and scare you off. 

“You are also correct. My grandfather is very clear to his children and even his grandchildren that we should freely choose for ourselves what we should do and who we should marry and to hold fate in one hand and destiny in another and yet not give into either unless we want to but to otherwise carve out what you want with your own two hands.” You revealed. 

“What I would give to be in such a family.” Zaq sighed, a week before he would have been feeling extremely jealous himself but right now he was tickled that you once again said word for word what his grandmother had predicted and he couldn’t wait to actually be your family one day.  

“So absolute freedom then? No strings or restrictions?” He asked. 

“Well, there is one stipulation. We are forbidden from marrying any Zarcadians, my grandfather may be old and getting perhaps a little senile in his old age but he's still the patriarch of the family and he still decides who inherits what and he does get the final say in all the important matters and so far he has never been wrong about anything, so at least while he lives, his word is law to a degree in our family. Now I'm told he has his reasons for feeling the way he does about Zarcadians but my parents as well as all my aunts and uncles refuse to tell me or my sisters or my cousins what those reasons could possibly be and shut us down every time we try to ask. There is a theory among us though that he loved a Zarcadian woman in his youth. But my grandfather was of very little means with no political ties so he had nothing but himself to offer her, and she had been betrothed to another since infancy or childhood or whatever the Zarcadian custom may be and could not break it for him. So his rejection made him bitter and there was no way for him to know at the time that he or any of his relation would ever amount to anything more than a commoner. I have seen Zarcade from a distance, even the houses of slaves are great and even they can trace their lineage back generations whereas in my family- all we have is living memory that my grandmother can remember about her own large family since my grandfather can only remember himself as a tumbleweed before he was in the army. But he found a place for himself as a soldier of Suter and his friends that he made there were closer than brothers and he made his own found family and he did get to marry my grandmother which he has vowed always was, always is and always will be the love of his life and even now, their love for each other burns brighter than the sun, as does the love between my parents and all my aunts and uncles." You confessed, shocking yourself with how easy it was to be so forthcoming, and worrying that Zaq now had ammunition against you as your stroked the handle to the blade anxiously before you felt a sense of calm, like you were safe- like you were with a dear friend who would keep your confidence- there was no other way to explain it. 

“Well I am, technically only a small, tiny fraction Zarcadian, surely that’s far enough away from it for it not to be held against me.” He tried to reason, his own tone still light and a little teasing which helped you relax as you smiled fondly at him. 

“Well while I can only speak for myself, I promise to do my best not to hold that against you, however I think others in my family probably- and by probably I mean most likely- would. I think they would take issue with the fact that your family is one of the most noble families of Zarcade, second only to the royal family and you live in one of the towers in the old kingdom do you not?” You questioned as he grimaced. 

“Details, details,” He tried to waive off dismissively which made you giggle as you either consciously or subconsciously hugged his well muscled arm and laid your head on his shoulder for a moment before he covered your hand that was in the crook of his elbow and you found yourself appreciating for a second time how warm his hands were, still that same balance between softness and calloused-ness, yet profoundly tender, thinking to yourself that you could so fall in love with him with almost alarming ease and wondered if you could live with yourself if you defied your family to chase this dream you were perceiving now when you looked at him, of course, with him being possibly betrothed to another didn't sit well with you, as you were brought up that a husband and wife should be absolutely loyal and faithful to the other and that mistresses were never an option, that if there was no more love in a marriage- that one should divorce the other so that you were both free to love another and find happiness and love again, you never wanted to be the other woman and would in turn never tolerate infidelity but if he was secretly free and single and looking to get out of Zarcade you could definitely be interested and you would happily break him out of the traditions he was chained to if he wanted to be free that is. You supposed only time could tell at this point though.  

When you got to the promised blooms, you reluctantly let him go to take a few steps off the path to smell the blooms as Zaq’s dragon flew all around the salarium to try to get a closer look at the two you as Zaq was shooing her away. 

“Is your dragon missing you?” You asked, having seen her reflection in the glass around you. 

“Kind of?” Zaq grimaced, you really did see everything and he didn’t want his dragon ruining or spoiling anything just yet. 

“So if I may be so bold- is there any way to be a dragoner without being a Zarcadian?” You asked. 

“Well, in theory, yes, if you could get your hands on some dragon eggs and manage to incubate them and successfully hatch them, you could grow them up and start breeding them once they’re of size but most dragons have a way of finding their brethren and returning to the same place their ancestors hatched from since they use the same sites for generations as long as the sites are not compromised or contaminated because most dragons are actually really picky about how and where they lay their eggs, of course, with that being said- you’d have to brave a whole cavern full of nursery and guardian dragons to get to the eggs.” He answered and you got the sense that he was being truthful. 

“So how are dragon eggs incubated?” You asked curiously, thrilled that he was sharing even this much with you. 

“Well they get set on fire by the parent’s dragon fire and have to stay at really high temperatures for several months, the longer the better. I have to get dressed in many thick layers of dragon leather and dragon scale armor and use special lenses made out of translucent dragon scales to even see the eggs so I can count them while they’re in incubation and drop off all the carcasses for the nursery and guard dragons to eat because they never really leave the caves, that’s why most dragons who hunt are actually males- but once they reach those final few weeks, the dragons instinctively and very carefully lower the temperature so that by the time they are ready to come out of the egg, we can be present to welcome them into the world and you would be surprised to find out how shockingly similar they are to kittens or puppies when they’re little, especially when they’re roughly the same size, and they usually imprint on us and their parents and the other nursery and guardian dragons so it’s much easier to teach them how to take a rider when they want to be ridden by you.” He explained, happy to talk so freely about something that Zarcadians usually were sworn to secrecy about but to you- he knew he could trust you with this information in turn as he was relieved that the reason your grandfather had forbidden the marriages before was probably due to a grudge but if your grandfather was already old and frail, surely he wouldn’t have to wait too long before that obstacle would remove itself, hopefully sooner than later. He could sense that you were a revolutionary in the making, an independant trail blazer and he couldn’t wait to show you everything he was talking about as soon as he figured out how in the world he was going to manage to get you to come to Zarcade. 

“So basically the only way to really get into dragons is to first have a pair of them to lay eggs in a cave that isn’t their ancestral nesting site on Zarcadian soil and get them to incubate and care for the eggs themselves because doing it any other way doesn't seem feasible, so the venture does seem like an impossibility since owning dragons is an exclusive right held only by Zarcadians and the only way into that is by marrying into a Zacadian family who breeds them on their own and already knows the tips and tricks as you appear to.” You surmised and Zaq could only nod in agreement to that reasoning. 

“Well, there is one other kind of roundabout way, you could marry into a Zarcadian family, get given those dragons as wedding presents since dragons are the last present given to a bride coming into the family then find a way to divorce them and take the dragons with you- if you managed to be the first to get your legal divorce since divorce is banned, I mean you could, in theory do it.” He offered. “Just because every other person has failed trying to be a dragoner without becoming a Zarcadian- in the history since my ancestors, however distant they may be in my family, shouldn’t deter you.” He tried to encourage you but his tone was still playful which made you laugh. 

“Oh is that all? Easy peasy then. All I would need now is a Zarcadian groom who isn’t betrothed already, which I will need all the luck in the world to find unless he practically fell out of the sky into my lap,  to agree to teach me all there was to know about dragons, marry me, hand the dragons over to me and then immediately divorce me if he was not willing to turn his back on his people, culture and traditions unless he wanted to do all of those things and leave with me, in which case we’d both be outcasts from our families and we would be completely on our own from that moment on and be the enemies of not just Suter and the Unastas but the Zarcadians as well and find a mountain range suitable to building a new nesting site in addition to him having dragons who would in turn be willing to follow me home and go against their own instincts which are stronger than any animal.” You realized as Zaq simply smiled, knowing it would never get quite that bad but if he had to be dropped into your heavenly divine lap, so be it. 

“You could hold auditions, have the declaration of war right next to the sign up sheet.” He mused which got you both to laugh as you walked back to him before you just casually took a walk through the solarium together, talking about everything, upbringings and cultures and food and of course going back to dragons as often as possible before it was lunchtime and you snagged a servant to bring you lunch in the solarium so that you could enjoy it in privacy with Zaq without the whole world watching. 

“So could I use this on like everyday things or just use it for special occasions or what?” You asked as you both enjoyed nice little sandwiches as you sat on the swing together and gently swung, enjoying the fresh spring blooms and their scents around you as you appreciated the dagger some more, getting used to its weight and balance. 

“You can use it however you see fit. But just be careful- it is sharp and will cut through just about anything but if it ever gets dull, just let me know and I’ll resharpen it for you.” Zaq offered. 

“Thank you.” You beamed happily at him as you were just amazed that the more time you spent with him, the more you felt like you had always known him, like you had been friends for forever already and something about him just clicked with you. 

“Ok, do you mind if I asked you a rather personal question?” You asked as you split the last mango custard tart which was your personal favorite. 

“Go for it.” He invited as he gratefully took the other half and ate it gleefully. 

“I know Zarcadians have the custom of being betrothed very young, would I be correct to assume that you are too?” 

"You would be wrong if you did." He answered with a smile that was practically scheming that excited every nerve in your body. 

"What? How? How are you not betrothed?!" You pressed, forcing your voice to be a hushed whisper as you turned towards him and leaned even closer to him. 

"Because an offer of marriage hasn't been made on my behalf yet and no one will either. No offer, no proposal, no betrothal. In fact, most of my younger siblings aren't even betrothed and they are well passed the age." He informed you, his own voice an equally hushed whisper as his body language mirrored yours. 

"Who handles all the betrothals in your family?" You asked. 

"My great grandmother, you're not the only one with a senile grandparent." He hinted. "Of course if you ask anyone else, they'll tell you that I am but "it's a secret surprise" but there has never been a name mentioned. When I was younger it used to give a lot of anxiety because not knowing was unnerving. But the older I get- the more I appreciate it.” He admitted as you both laid your heads against the back cushions of the swing as once again your sleepiness seemed to take over, because it was now siesta time but you didn’t want your time together to end. 

“Are you ok?” Zaq asked as you yawned. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I had a great lunch so now it’s siesta time to Unastas.” You murmured sleepily as you struggled to keep your eyes open but you couldn’t wipe the dreamy smile from your lips if you tried. 

“Do you wish to return to your room?” He asked. 

“No, I don’t want to leave and I love hearing you talk about...everything.” You answered. 

“Here,” Zaq said as he pulled a cushion from another chair and scooted back so that you could lay down which you gladly obliged, laying on your back on the bench, your knees laing over the armrest of the swing looking up past the frame into the canopy as Zaq pulled a magicked dragon wool handkerchief out of his pocket and started to stretch and pull and fluff it so that it grew into a throw blanket big enough to cover you before he laid it over you so you could sleep comfortably and actually sang you a lullaby, his tone becoming soft before you quickly fell asleep with the added gentle swaying and rocking of the swing. 

“God is my fate beautiful.” Zaq whispered in awe as he gently reached out and gently traced the lines of your face, memorizing every curve before he pulled out a journal from his breast pocket and made notes of the other details of his great grandmother’s prophecy you had gotten right before he sketched you in his journal, marveling at you and so happy with himself that he had waited for you. Because you were obviously worth the wait and his great grandmother was right in that if she had told anyone who The Eagle was, no one would believe her. But now he did, with his whole heart and soul. 

He put the journal away and pulled out a second book and happily read in silence to let you sleep for as long as you needed, happy and content that you trusted him enough to be so open and vulnerable with him so soon, he thought it would take at least a week to get half as far but when you stirred and rolled over and moved up, moving the pillow to his lap so that all of you could fit on the bench, he happily continued to sit there and have you sleep peacefully in his lap as he read out of his favorite book before he heard someone else come into the solarium and worried about who it might be before he heard his brother and his future sister in law’s voices as they came in and eagerly went to their own hidden spot nearby, thankfully out of sight to have a randevu as Zaq rolled his eyes and tried to push the noise they were making out of his head as he tried to focus on his book and not let what they were doing affect him, not wanting his boner to disturb your slumber and when they had finally finished many heated moments later he blew out a breath of relief and couldn’t help but grin when they were all giggles and cooing to each other as they then got straightened up and continued to walk around the solarium. 

“Oh!” They exclaimed as they noticed Zaq sitting on the bench reading with someone sleeping in his lap. 

“Please tell me that’s Anya,” Ester whispered excitedly as she came over to see who it was and silently cheered when it was you. 

“Yes!” She practically bounced as she then went to her fiance to shake him in excitement as he stood there in shocked surprise. 

“No way, that can’t be The Eagle.” Xander shook his head in disbelief. 

“Wait what? Eagle?” She pressed. 

“Zaq’s mystery woman, who everyone has always refered to her as The Eagle.” Zaq explained. 

“Unasta’s have golden griffens in their coat of arms. Sudi has Eagles.” Xander argued. 

“Red Eagles, so you take the color of one and the creature of the second because her mother is of Sudi, it’s her father who’s an Unasta. Grandma said that mine was supposed to be golden, look at her hair and tell me that isn’t the same colors as a golden eagle, when we were dancing last night we were bantering and she called me a wolf, I called her an Eagle and she didn’t argue and when I said Golden Eagle, she beamed before she corrected herself and called me a dragon.” Zaq defended. 

“Look, you don’t know Anya, she’s literally the embodiment of an eagle, she is the most eagle eyed woman I have ever known, she sees her target and she goes for it and won’t stop until it’s hers. She’s incredibly perceptive and sharp and she practically flies on her horses, the faster the better and did you see how natural of a rider she was last night? Come on, she is it, I totally see why your grandma said no one would believe it. Oh my god, my best friend is gonna be my sister,” Ester practically squealed in excited whispers before she started doing a small victory dance. 

“How in the world are we going to get her to Zarcade though?” Xander wondered aloud. 

“Oh leave that to me, I can ask her parents on our wedding day for her to visit me after we get back from our honeymoon and no one in their right mind says no to a bride on her wedding day, at least to me.” Ester schemed as Zaq and Xander looked at each other in pleasant surprise. 

“Thank you,” Zaq thanked her appreciatively. 

“Now, word of advice, when you really want to prove to her that this is fate and destiny, give her the gloves, she has the hardest time getting gloves that fit her hands. Also, we should stop on our way to Zarcade to pick her up and you need to come with us, because their entire district is gorgeous and stay at least one night because their family feasts that they have every night are always super laid back and casual instead of so formal like it is here, that and Unasta’s always take siestas which I’m kind of jealous that I wish we did too but every Unasta works very hard all day and all of Anya’s siblings and cousins kind of flock to whoever they want to work with that day and they all have their own projects that they work on with everyone so that everyone has a well rounded education and nothing is gendered, like her cousin Parker, he can design clothes just as beautiful as his aunt can and her sister Megan, she can butcher hogs better than anyone and they all have their own plots of gardens so they grow what they want to grow, be it flowers or vegetables or fruits or whatever. They are given freedom, opportunities and choices most could only dream of while they all love and support each other so much and they just generally have so much fun.” She urged them as they all sat down in the sitting area, Ester choosing to sit on Xander’s lap because the other chair didn’t have it’s cushion which Xander didn’t mind one bit.

 You woke up to the sound of soft conversation before you slowly let your eyes flutter open. “Hey sleepy head.” Ester greeted cheerfully as Xander himself smiled happily at you from his place behind her. 

“Hey,” you greeted as you stretched and yawned before you sat up. 

“Thank you,” you thanked him appreciatively as you begrudgingly tried to give it back. “How did you make it so big?” You asked him curiously as you looked at the royal blue fabric in your hands appreciatively. 

“Like this.” Zaq said as he demonstrated how to make it smaller and then bigger again as Ester and Xander watched on with amusement before he handed the folded handkerchief to you. “For you.” He offered. 

“Really? Thank you so much! It’s even my favorite color!” You gushed excitedly which had Ester and Xander smiling knowingly at each other. Oh this was going to be fun. 

[wildefiction]

Focus

PAIRING: Rob x Reader x Chris

CHAPTER: 12/?

WORD COUNT: 2,176

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Cute fluff, Stressed Reader, Gossip, Frustration

A/N: Here's chapter 12 to the collaboration @natasha-cole and I are writing - enjoy!

With a reassuring pat on your shoulder, Kim smiled before pulling open the door to the ladies’ room. Bri, ever the optimist, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked out with you. Bidding you good-night and good luck, the two of them sauntered back over to the decidedly smaller group of people they’d been sitting with earlier.

Wandering back over to the couch with the conversation you’d just had with the girls still fresh in your mind, you began to gather your things, fully intent on heading back to your room.

Rob’s tired smile greeted you from where he still sat on the couch. Lifting himself from the cushions, he raised his arms, stretching while trying to stifle a yawn.

Realizing your own exhaustion, you glanced at the phone in your hand to see how late it was. The screen read three-forty-five. How you’d managed to stay awake this long, you weren’t sure. Though it may have had something to do with the company you’d kept and the conversations you’d had in the several hours that had passed since you’d followed Kim up from the green room.

“I don’t know how you guys do this every weekend.” Smiling at the man in front of you when he reached for your hand, the question in your eyes was undeniable as his warm fingers laced themselves through yours.

“You get used to it, or rather, some of us do. We see each other a lot, but Saturday nights – everyone is so hyped up after the concert that we couldn’t sleep right away if we tried.”

Nodding your understanding as the two of you made your way to the door, you let his answer sink in. He must have mistook your silence for discomfort however, and as his thumb smoothed over your knuckles, you were brought back to the present.

“You okay?” Concern mingled with the fatigue on his face, and you smiled. The idea that someone could read you well enough to tell the difference between your being tired and upset was a new idea for you. For a moment, you considered just talking to him right then. The halls were quiet as he walked you back towards your room, but the thought was brief. You knew you’d rather be completely present for the conversation you’d be having with both him and Chris. Squeezing his hand, you nodded.

“Just tired. I don’t think I’ve been up this late in ten years.” “I’m actually debating whether it’s even worth it to sleep at this point.”

Rubbing your free hand across your face, the small movement seemed to bring with it the full weight of your exhaustion.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to sleep as much as you can. Don’t wanna show up for work in the morning and not be at the top of your game. It’s J2 day after all.”

Nudging your shoulder as the two of you approached your door, Rob stopped short, pulling you around and into a sweet hug. The steady beating in his chest threatening to make you fall asleep standing right where you were. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he smiled sleepily.

“Get some sleep, [Y/F/N] – I’ll see you tomorrow. Or…rather, later today.”

Nodding to yourself, but finding it difficult to move away from his embrace, you finally sighed and unlocked your door. With a final glance, Rob said goodbye and turned to walk back down the hallway.

Having zero energy to change into different clothes, you fell face-first into the mediocre hotel bed, asleep before you could even think about anything that had transpired tonight.

****

A frenzied knocking at the door pulled you from a deep sleep. Squinting against the early morning sun streaming through the window, you hoped the noise had been part of your dream. Closing your eyes to try and recapture it proved futile as the insistent interruption sounded again.

If only you'd given whoever stood on the other side of that door a spare key, you wouldn't have to get out of bed.

Wishful thinking on your part.

The next round of knocking came with the muffled sound of your name. Not wanting to disturb the people who were likely trying to sleep in on the final day of their weekend, you begrudgingly extracted yourself from the nest of blankets and crossed the room to the door. Pulling it open amidst yet another flurry of knocking, you were surprised to see Kim and Briana standing on the other side.

Craning their heads to look over your shoulder, Briana brushed past you into the room while Kim started immediately with rapid fire questions.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" "How ya feeling?"

"We brought coffee, and not that gross hotel sludge they so generously offer for free, but the real stuff. The good stuff." 

"You like coffee right?"

Nodding with a barely disguised grumble of affirmation, you could only smile as the women both grimaced good-naturedly.

"Yikes, rough night?"

"...you're uh, you're not hiding anyone under the bed or in the closet are you?"

The last teasing remark was the first thing Briana had said to you, and honestly, the first thing that even remotely registered as a question needing answered.

Standing to one side so Kim could squeeze past, you turned, still wrapped in the duvet as the door clicked shut behind you.

"Definitely not."

Sipping at the bold flavors of the latte Kim had given you, the surprised glance shared between the other two women went unnoticed.

"Well, uh, have you talked to them yet?" 

Glancing at Briana, her gaze was still on Kim even though she had spoken to you.

Turning your attention to the other woman, your eyes narrowed upon noticing the poorly concealed consternation Kim wore on her face.

"No….why?” Setting the coffee on the bedside table, attention now fully on the girls, you crossed your arms under your chest, alternating your attention between them, hoping one of them was about to start talking.

"Uh, well, funny you should ask...but uh...we..erm.."

Briana was stalling, shooting furtive glances to her friend, silently asking for help.

"We can't find Chris. We thought maybe…"

Waffling her hands in the air, her very pointed expression made it clear why they were at your room at nine am. 

Choking on a sip of the coffee you'd picked back up, you took a moment to wipe the back of a hand across your chin.

"And..what, you thought he'd be here?!"

Scrunching up her face, Kim shrugged before nodding vigorously.

"I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered." A snort of laughter followed the statement, but you weren't really upset.

"I mean, I guess I can understand why you guys would think to come here but I haven't seen Chris since last night."

"Rob walked me back to my room and then I crashed. As you can see, I didn't even change."

Skirting the bed to pick up your phone from the dresser, you flicked open the screen. There were no messages or missed calls.

"I'll shoot him a text and--"

"We've all done that. Went to his room too." Briana said the words softly, as if she wasn't sure how you'd take the news.

"Yeah, but maybe Chris will answer [Y/F/N]. Couldn't hurt anyways." Kim pointed out.

"I mean...it is still really early. Hell, I've only slept five hours myself. Are you guys sure he's not just passed out in his room?"

Typing out a quick good morning text, asking Chris if he wanted to meet for lunch, you set the phone back down on the dresser.

"Chris is always the first one up. Dude is awake before the birds, regardless of how late he stayed out the night before." Kim went on to explain that nobody had heard from him since he'd left the party last night.

"I'm sure he's fine. Really...he's a big boy, he can take care of himself." 

"The convention doesn't start for another few hours, right? I bet he'll be back before the first set of photo ops. He's probably just getting breakfast or something."

****

Following the girls downstairs after you'd taken the time to shower and brush your teeth - which went a remarkably long way towards feeling like a functioning human again - the vendors room caught your eye.

"I'll catch up later guys, I'm gonna check this out."

Ducking into the adjacent hallway, several tables were spread across the space. Arranged amongst the typical t-shirt vendors, artists sold everything from paintings to jewelry to custom figurines. 

Selecting a tote bag and several CD's from the Louden Swain merchandise table, you were paying for your selections when a familiar voice caught your attention.

"Yeah, that's her."

"I don't know, but he's been really different this weekend. It's like he doesn't even see us now that she's around."

The conversation was all hushed tones and urgent whispers, and it was clear that whoever the woman was talking to was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep her voice down.

You weren't typically one to eavesdrop on others discussions but it was pretty clear you were part of it. Plus, they were talking about Chris. Maybe they knew where he was.

Before you had a chance to ask them, the two women walked away, leaving you to wonder what they were talking about.

"Don't pay them any mind, unfortunately, gossip spreads like wildfire around here and since you're the new girl, you're the hot topic of the weekend."

Sitting diagonally from where you stood, a girl smiled at you from behind her booth. Approaching her table, you took note of the stylized art of the guests, lined up next to a large, incredibly detailed portrait of Rob.

"Wow, this is really amazing."

Bending over to study the color palette she'd chosen to use, you'd intended to take her observation with a grain of salt. She, however didn't appear to be finished.

"You seem cool enough though. You're pretty talented with that camera of yours. Chris talks about you often."

There was no hint of jealousy or mockery in her words, and her neutral expression seemed friendly enough.

"You guys are friends?" "Have you seen him today?"

The woman shrugged nonchalantly.

"I suppose? He and I have been at the same conventions for several years, and we take great delight in annoying each other - but aside from that?"

Bending over her notebook, she went back to working on her drawing. 

Taking note of the fact that she hadn't really answered either of your questions, you were just about to look through her portfolio when your phone rang.

"Hey, did you guys find him?" "Oh...really? And what time does it start? Damnit. Ok, I'll be there in a sec."

Dropping the device back into your pocket, you said a hurried goodbye and made a beeline for the door.

It was nearing eleven o'clock, when a line of people would be waiting for their photo ops with Jensen. Hurrying to the room, when you arrived and the space was silent, concern really started to set in.

Chris had never missed a Creation event since he'd started. Well over a hundred events and he'd always shown up. You could only hope today wouldn't change that. 

Approximately fifty people were already milling about outside of the quiet space, volunteers trying to herd them back into the auditorium.

"Guys, please return to the theater - we'll be calling Jensen's photo ops in groups of fifty to a hundred at a time."

"Chris hasn't even set up for the day please go back to your seats."

You made a mental note to thank the volunteers at some point today, they really were the backbone of these conventions.

Slipping through the door, you were quick to flip the light switches. The silence and the dark were too much together when you'd only ever seen the room brightly lit and loud.

Figuring the least you could do was start setting up, you made the rounds, checking that lights were connected, the printers were turned on and the marks on the floor didn't need refreshing. Chris's equipment wasn't in the room, but then you hadn't really expected him to leave it overnight. 

Checking your phone once more, it was still devoid of any notifications. Navigating to your own playlists, you hit start and docked it in the cradle sitting on the table. It wasn't his music, but it made the wait infinitely less awkward.

When the door opened, you glanced up, heart beating wildly in your chest. Hoping…

"Hey, uh, we've got the first fifty people lined up out here. Should I let the handlers know to bring Jensen in?"

Chris's assistant searched your face for answers. Problem was, you had no idea how to do this alone. Right now, it looked as if your choice was being made for you however, as you couldn't realistically ask them to wait any longer than they already had.

'Uh..ye-yeah.. go ahead. Let's see what happens."

TAGS: @natasha-cole @wings-of-a-raven @jamielea81

[modern-and-married-jeffmads]

Hamilton DJ Drabble (Jeffmads)

I fell in love with the idea of a Hamilton DJ/music au, so I made a drabble for it. I may do more if people want it or I think of something else. I hope you like it (it typed this on my tablet, so please pardon the errors if any)

Word count: 1808 Warnings: Nothing

The nightclub was booming to the sick beats and remixes that were being pumped out by DJ Thunderson. That was Thomas Jefferson's alias when he was at the local downtown nightclubs. He took his love for music and took it to the next level during his Junior year in college. His third year of music classes required him to learn the basic functions of how to make music via electronics and computers. It came naturally him and before he knew it, he was putting his own spin on the music game and began playing at college parties. Everybody wanted this man recreating their current smash hits from the radio and that was fine by Thomas. Even though the basic lessons were over, he learned more on his own thanks to videos on YouTube and listening to the current kings and queens on the scenes of dubstep, EDM, and house music. After his other classes, he would head to his dorm, which he shared with James Madison. There he’d pull out his set up of a few laptops and turntables in their makeshift living room and begin his nightly session of figuring out which songs to turn up and crank out. On those nights, he’d have his headphones on so he wasn’t aware when his roommate came out to get something out the fridge. He also didn’t notice that James would occasional nod his head to the muffled music coming from his friend’s headphones. James didn’t mind Thomas making music as long as it wasn’t ear-shattering and he wore headphones so James could read and study in peace. Thomas would retire around 2 a.m. on those nights so he decided to work on days where his classes started in the afternoon.

Word had spread like wildfire as young adults close to club owners suggested that Thomas play. There were videos on various Instagram and Facebook profiles broadcasting the soon to be aspiring DJ. One club owner decided to give him a chance since he noticed Thomas gathered a rather large following that could equal a rise in customers. Thomas received the email during lunch one day which quickly prompted going to Alexander and rubbing it in his face that he will get to perform and get in the club for free the running to his dorm and bouncing off the walls as he told James. Alex was secretly jealous and James was proud and slightly excited, but he always remained supportive of his best friend.

Thomas, now under the name DJ Thunderson, with his own designed gear he got Lafayette and Herc to create, would find himself in front of large crowds of teens and young adults jumping and head-banging to the rhythm. People were dancing with and on each other, groups were singing along, neon everything was swimming over throughout the crowd, and Jell-O shots were being downed like there was no tomorrow. It felt like that every time Jefferson played. He felt like he was making it amongst the in-crowd and was getting his name out there. The mixture of music, shots, heat in the building and the women jumping to be by his side and in his bed made him feel like he was on top of the world. He even thought about dropping out of college to make this a full-time job, as he was being paid pretty well, but decided to stay to not go against his mother's wishes.

After the parties ended and everybody was getting their last drinks in, James would come pick Thomas up, if he was hammered enough. James would slip in the back and guide him to his car and put him in the back. He would then get some help to pack Jefferson’s stuff in the trunk and head back to the dorms. After pretty much rolling Thomas and his equipment in and dragging Thomas into his bed, the smaller man would take a shower to wash off any smells of liquor and neon paints that may have gotten on him. Soon James would be asleep in his bed and Thomas would be hanging on his bed, drooling and snoring heavily.

One day Thomas woke up after being brought home and tested out his equipment to make sure it was still working since he had a gig right after his last class. James heard a loud scream and a thud come from the living room and jumped up to see what happened. It was Thomas holding his laptop and speakers which he could see had a blue screen and made disheveling static noises. Thomas didn’t realize that somebody spilled a drink on his stuff as he was packing up. It devastated Thomas as he didn’t know what to do. James comforted his friend and gave a smile, warm-hearted smile to try to reassure everything will turn out okay. Thomas sighed and got ready for class leaving James to his own activities.

By the time Thomas got back to his room, his head was lower due to the thought of not being able to perform that night. He raised his head as he heard music playing lowly from the living room and followed the sounds. He saw his laptop screen in working condition, his speakers were clear, and his turntables were clean and sparkled. His eyes widen and a smile quickly grew on his faces, but then his eyebrows furrowed a bit. He wondered who fixed his stuff while he was away. He thought James did it but denied the idea as James didn’t seem like a tech person. He wanted to figure it out, but pushed the thought aside as he gathered his stuff in his book bag, left a note for James telling him he can just use his card to order something to eat, and left for the club.

James would see the note later on that night and smile, happy that Thomas could continue what he loved doing. He was glad he didn’t get asked any questions because he didn’t want anybody knowing that he actually was receiving a minor software and electronic engineering. James was always fascinated with computers since they didn’t require him to physically be around people and it didn't get him sick. While Thomas was gone, James decided to order some Greek takeout and hide away in his room. He knew Thomas wouldn’t be back until late since he knew the earlier he left, the later he’d stay out. James opened up his laptop on the bed with his Gyros, Kokoretsi, and Galaktoboureko, on a little table nearby. He opened up a music program and put his headphones on. James began taking classical music like Beethoven and Bach and added his own twist to it. Though his creations were not as harsh as Thomas’, his music would get your hips moving and start making you listen to more symphonies during study breaks. James had gotten so focused on his music and in his food, he didn’t realize how much time had passed. Thomas was able to get home via Lafayette, who attended the club that night.

After Thomas got inside and collapsed on the couch, he laid back and let out a long sigh. He let his body relax before hearing some soft music come from his friend's room. He thought James just left some music playing while he slept. He thought that until he heard movement in the room and saw the light come on. He heard James go into the bathroom in his room, which wasn’t normal to Thomas. Being who he was, he decided to investigate, crawled off the couch, and cracked open his roommate's door to see where the source was coming from. It was the laptop on the bed, hooked up to a mini speaker and a small electronic pad. Jefferson heard a familiar classic being remixed and his mouthed dropped. James walked out the bathroom and was flustered and surprised to find his best friend nodding to the beat of the music. James quickly stopped the music and closed the laptop. Thomas looked with confusion and walked completely into the room.

“James, why didn’t you tell me you made music?”, Thomas asked.

“It’s a small hobby, Thomas. I like computers and seeing you do it got me interested, but I don’t like people knowing because I never thought it would be any good.”, James responded rubbing the back of his head.

Thomas sat there for a moment to think. “So you fixed my stuff?”.

James simply nodded,”Yeah, I hated seeing you upset, and I know how much you love playing, so I fixed it so you could continue going out”.

Thomas smiled warmly at his friend, then walked over and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you, Jemmy. You’re a lifesaver and you really are my best friend. You shouldn’t compare what you do to me. Don’t hide it and enjoy it.”, Thomas said in James' ear.

James grew redder and wrapped his arms around Jefferson before pulling away.

“Now come on and share some of that Gyro, I wanna hear what you’ve been workin’ on”, Thomas excitedly said as he jumped on James’ bed, next to his stuff.

James shook his head and chuckled before sitting next to the bigger man. He opened his laptop and switched off his headphones then began to play a few pieces he put together. Jefferson listened while snacking on one of the untouched Gyros and rocked his body to the rhythm. James smiled to see his friend enjoy his work. They sat there for hours until James was asleep on Thomas’ shoulder and Thomas had his arms wrapped around James, resting his chin on his friends small, dark locks.

After hearing James and seeing what he could do, Thomas got James to help him set up his equipment and asked if he could do routine checks on everything. James would run all the devices and software to make sure it was all up to date. Thomas would bring James along to early club setups to help make sure thing everything was in order and did sound checks around the place. Some of the employees began calling Madison “AfterMadd” since he always followed after Jefferson when they saw him. Jefferson loved the name and used it to give credit when he got James to crack and allowed him to use some of the smaller man’s music. James didn’t mind the name because you wouldn’t make the connection quickly that it was James. He never stayed long at the club since he didn’t drink or like being around a lot of people, but he would Skype Jefferson on his phone to listen and let the club music fill the dorm throughout the night.

Being DJs and making music brought the best friends a lot closer than they had ever been.

[floraone]

1, 19

Yay!! Hellloooooo love ♡♡♡

1. Where do I typically get my ideas.

It’s the one thing I don’t struggle with at all: ideas. I have them. I may not always know how to all fit them it place, but I do have ideas, and love to share them. They come from anywhere really; discussions, classes, movies that excited me OR annoyed me and made me rumminate my thoughts on its what-ifs… Like, if I take Yugen for an example it obviously was playing with the theme of “what was missing in canon that I want to add, and what do I want to keep.” So I started chucking everything I found either problematic OR so perfect I couldn’t really add to it, and then I still had room to play with every headcanon I ever had or assimilated via fandom. Second in came the current political climate. I wrote a story where the world is being saved from hate itself - so I was allowed to factor in what I found is going horribly in the world as of now. It made writing it more impactful to myself.Then the details; what are they doing, what are they talking about - this draws heavily from my own experience. And while it is VERY important me that I don’t write “myself” but stay in character, it’s always easy to imagine what they would do in my place, and branch off from there. So, anything gets recycled that I experience, I mostly even don’t notice it - I read a LOT, daily. Anything from the daily online newspaper fix and other fanfiction to science fiction and lots and lots of non-fiction. I go through books like other people go through… I don’t even know. My apartment is a library. I have custom made selfmade shelfs to fit them all, even when I DO throw stuff out regularly that wasn’t a 100% to my taste. And added to that - I WATCH a lot. Mostly series that I watch together with my husband, and documentaries on anything cool. Add to that my experiences as a regular jane and a rather specific education, and I can honestly say that some or most of my ideas are probably a jumbled mess of inspiration drawn from any of these outlets without me even really realising it.

Most important, though: I KEEP all my ideas. I write lists on my phone memo pad, and if they come up elsewhere on the internet as I talk to people and bounce ideas around (brainstorming or simply being asked specifics about my plot is also SO helpful to me personally, especially to fit all my ideas into the right places), for instance, I will make screenshots. And if I talk to friends and colleagues I am known to whip out my phone as well- people are never offended when I tell them I need a minute to write down what we just talked about cause it’s so impactful to me that I don’t want to forget about it. Ideas are fleeting, and however we think we will definitely remember this stroke of genius (however idiotic it turns out to be in the end), it’ll definitely be gone if I don’t preserve it.

Now, what I’m definitely lacking tho is the TIME to put all these ideas into action. I currently have a “master-list” of fic ideas where I collect a sort of database for ideas for fics. Some of those are little more than prompts, others have 20 page scripts already. It currently spans 22 fic ideas, and most of these will most likely never see the light of day. I simply don’t have that kind of time and sadly I do need to go and earn a living, lol.

19. What’s my best advice for writing action scenes.

Again with the word “advice” - I don’t feel like this is an area where anyone can or should give “advice” - writing is highly individual, and what works for me doesn’t neccessarily have to work for anyone else. So, again, here’s simply my personal opinion and experience on what worked out for me.

Action scenes are maybe THE most difficult thing to write imo. Especially in an overall romance genre where people are here for the relationships and characters and not so much for the action. Which means, for me, that the action scenes need to be on point, and not too long, but even more impactful. So, these are steps I follow in my head, more or less consciously.

1) Cinematographic imagery. I like to go at these scenes from a ‘what would this LOOK LIKE" angle. These are superheroes, so, I go big. Energy pulses that push them soaring through skies, shattering glass, cement and asphalt breaking apart, buildings tumbling. Especially with using Rei, I tend to go big on the fire descriptions. The fire needs to cackle and crack and lick, objects she sets it to go ablaze, she can fire it like wildfire and occationally things explode. Which brings me to point two.

2. The stakes are high, the effects are big, so it wouldn’t be realistic if there weren’t injuries and casualties involved. I’m very much against glorifying violence, so it’s very important to me to also point out the costs. And those costs tend to be very graphic in my writing. Huge bloody gashes, skin sizzling away under acid, bone showing through burned and mangled skin. Which is why, when I use a big and giant epic battle scene, the aftermath will always be painful and bloody. Who turns to violence pays a price, even if it wasn’t their choice and it was always in defence. So any huge battle will always include injuries on ALL the parties. And they stick around in their healing phases in follow up scenes if they were gigantic. Even if it’s just in flinches and a hissed breath through clenched teeth as they have to move around the healing residues of it. Though luckily, Manga!Mamoru has healing powers, of course. (Tho I try use that sparsely, of course. The guy is no god. He has his limits.)

3. I tend to use a very fast paced language in action scenes. Short sentences. TRYING to refrain from my kilometer long, relative clause heavy comma sentences. Action scenes are a very reactive, sudden thing. Things happen fast and they need to react fast. No time to think or plan and just to act, and the language should reflect that. Both the aspect that describes what is actually happening and the emotive reactions to it. Which brings me to point four.

4. They are fucking scared. Even if they manage to swallow that fear and let instinct take over to go badass, underneath, I try to never forget that these are teenagers fighting monsters, risking their lifes. There will be adrenaline, and panic, and no room for very much rational thought. It all happens too fast and they are going on fight or flight auto-pilot. And this will at least partly be the case however routine or everyday the encounter has become. There will always be that moment where they could have misstepped and died a bloody death in someone’s fangs or tentacles.

Brings me to five:5. Creative monsters. In Ikigai especially I tried to write monsters that I find interresting. I used pop-culture references by using Godzilla and Mothra-like enemies, monsters from Video-games, and sometimes some from canon that I found especially interresting to tie back to canon. By using monsters that I liked, I knew what they could do. And I had fun while writing it.

6. I choose fighting styles. Usagi gets Jujutsu from me, sometimes even Aikido elements. A fighting style that uses speed instead of strength, that needs to be clever to use their opponent’s strength against them. And then I watch Youtube tutorials on these styles’ basic moves. Plus, these tutorial instructions come with very useful vocabulary for how to implement these moves into writing!And then sometimes, like in Yugen, I move from combat to magic. I had a very fun time turning those twirly 90s dance sequences into powerful fighting in Yugen. Making something so obviously “girly” the biggest asset in a battle, the biggest weapon, more powerful than any martial arts move I could give them. Girl power and all.

And, last,7. I get myself in the mood. I listen to very fast paced dramatic, epic music. Mostly the score from action movies even (like, I find the wonder woman theme song from the new films to work like MAGIC) and imagine my fast paced action sequences to it. Go through them in my head one by one. And then put that song on repeat as I write. It helps me write clipped and fast-paced, and keeps me in the dramatic tone.

So there, three cents on action ♡ Would be curious to know what YOU think works best!

[thebluelemontree]

What do you think about valientned's theory that Sansa invented the Unkiss to explain the situation in her recollections, versus the prevailing SanSan theory that she invented it because she wanted it (later)? One puts stock in the Unkiss as proof of Sansa's fear, and the other as proof of her desire or love. Not that those are mutually exclusive. +They both make sense and have evidence. IMO, the fact that Sansa makes it up after she starts having erotic dreams indicates desire for him, not fear

**Edit** I do follow valientned’s tumblr and I enjoy their posts.  I was not aware of their position on the unkiss or read anything about it from them personally, so I’m taking your word for it.  But I will answer from the position that some people have about the unkiss being about processing trauma or fear.***

It’s sooooo not about fear or trauma.  Just, no.  That makes no sense and here’s why.

I think to understand the unkiss, we have to look at it first in a literary way and why the Blackwater scene was written the way it was. What is GRRM (not Sansa) trying to say to the reader with not just the unkiss, but everything connected to it?  He obviously can’t write a literal romance between them in the early books for so many horrifically unconscionable and logic-defying reasons.  George is really following a literary tradition using sexual and romantic symbolism to speak directly to the reader without the characters being aware.  It’s a classic Gothic literature theme of exploring sexual desire that is fraught with fear for it being taboo or somehow non-prescribed by society.  Or in Sansa’s case, that it is not the ideal.  (See the Bear and the Maiden Fair).   

The Blackwater scene itself is not actually sexual, though it is terrifying, to say the least.  It is however very sexually and romantically symbolic in its wording.  The dagger as a phallic symbol, the “wetness that was not blood,” the blood-stained cloak evocative of loss of virginity, etc.  BTW, we were already pre-exposed to Sandor holding a blade against Sansa’s neck and she was not scared (kind of unimpressed actually).  Swords and daggers are dicks and they are everywhere.    

What we’re really talking about here at the Blackwater is metaphoric wife-stealing and it’s important to understand what wife-stealing actually is.  It’s a ritual among Free Folk to demonstrate to the woman a man’s prowess and worth to be considered as a suitor.  They value traits of being brave, clever, and quick.  Ygritte has no fear or trauma from Jon unwittingly stealing her at knife point because she is interpreting the events through her cultural lens.  She enthusiastically accepts “his suit” because he passed the test.  It is not an assault on the woman or an actual kidnapping.  The man might get the shit beat out of him, but the woman is never supposed to be hurt.  In the end, the woman has the final say if she will have him, as Tormund’s daughter Munda did with Longspear Ryk after he stole her.  This custom is set apart from the already existing sexual freedom for both sexes to hook up.  Wife-stealing is a public declaration of a serious romantic relationship.  It’s a marriage proposal.  Sandor fails the wife-stealing test metaphorically at the Blackwater.  He’s drunk, scared, barely holding on mentally and he is refused.   

So GRRM has given us extensive literary set-up to place the Blackwater in a symbolically romantic context.  Why?  So he can make the unkiss just about Sansa processing fear and trauma?  That makes no sense.  Now that we have the proper literary context, we can look at Sansa’s progression of thought toward the unkiss logically.   

This is before the first incarnation of the unkiss:  

1)  It’s implied she’s already forgiven Sandor after he leaves her room wrapping herself in his cloak.  She was cold, but she was already in her own bed.  She has cloaks of her own.  That does not speak of fear and trauma after the fact to seek out his cloak and remain under it for some time.  It speaks of subconscious emotional attachment.  

2)  Still so hint that she was traumatized.  This passage takes place approximately one month later according to the ASOIAF timeline.    

I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she’d kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. It was only the fire he feared. That night, the wildfire had set the river itself ablaze, and filled the very air with green flame. Even in the castle, Sansa had been afraid. Outside … she could scarcely imagine it.                 

 She wishes the Hound were there for his advice.  She’s has spent more than one night considering the events of the Blackwater, so she’s already processed it.  She secretly kept his cloak with her future wardrobe, though she can’t give a reason she is consciously aware of.  She understands why things happened the way they did from a non-emotionally charged place and with critical thinking.  The only fear she emphasizes is the fear of the wildfire, both inside and outside the castle.  By “wondering if she’d been wise” (that slight pause over her choice but without overwhelming regret) says she might have chosen differently if he had approached her the right way.

Now we get to the first incarnation of the unkiss.  Compared to what actually happened, let’s look at what’s stayed the same, what’s changed or added, what’s been removed:

Sansa wondered what Megga would think about kissing the Hound, as she had. He’d come to her the night of the battle stinking of wine and blood. He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song.

He did not not come to her.  He was already in the room.  It’s been changed so he’s coming through the door where she can see him instead of startling her in the dark.  The first thing she says is that she kissed him.  The whole tone of the passage is matter-of-fact.  Not emotionally charged either positively or negatively.  No mention of the knife at her throat.  Then he kisses her.  Then he threatens her and makes her sing him a song.  So the kiss comes before any threat and is tied to the song instead.  The kiss didn’t come under duress, the song did.   

We know from Sansa’s fantasies of Loras Tyrell, she imagines herself being an actor, not just acted upon.  All while the Bear and the Maiden Fair is sang LOUDLY in the background (pointing to the subconscious) by Butterbumps just to drive the point home it’s the bear that satisfied the maiden.  Loras is still very much her conscious ideal at this point.  It’s the type that she is supposed to be with.  He’s what the songs are made of and she wants her life to be just like a song.  Sandor doesn’t fit in that superficial equation at all.  That’s the struggle.  The unkiss is not about coming to terms with trauma.  It’s coming to terms that deep down her erotic desires are the stuff of Gothic literature.  She’s not scared of Sandor, she’s scared of what wanting him says about her.  Miss dutiful, oh so proper lady that she is.  Ha!  

Her first erotic dream that replaces Tyrion with the Hound in the marriage bed is definitely not a nightmare at the end.  It comes the night of Lysa and Petyr’s very loud bedding after their marriage and after Lothor Brune (who she initially mistakes for Sandor) saved Sansa from Marillion’s unwanted advances.  So if the dream is coming after she’s being reminded of sex by the wedding night and Sandor is replacing and protecting her from the unwanted, doesn’t that make his presence wanted? Desired?  The context in how we interpret these things is key.

Finally, let’s get to the second and last (so far) incarnation of the unkiss:

Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy’s kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy.  If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her … and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.

As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

It made no matter. That day was done, and so was Sansa. 

Once again, we must look at the context of what sparked this final version: Robert’s clumsy kiss.  Clumsy and cruel are now tied together.  Although Sansa has no desire to reciprocate Robert’s crush, she does want to be kissed again.  Her first inclination is to pretend he’s Loras, but that doesn’t work. She’s accepted the reality that courtship among the noble class is first and foremost about pedigree and politics.  The rose given was an empty gesture.  She can’t make him the focus of her desires any longer while accepting the truth.  Then her thoughts pivot to her “memory” of the unkiss. 

This version is far more poetic in tone than the first.  The wildfire outside is now turned into a vivid backdrop to the scene, not a horrific apocalypse.  There’s no knife, no threat, no vomit, no wine, no startling her in the dark, no fear.  She’s removed all unwanted elements and kept only the intensity of the moment.  Remember that Sansa wants to be an actor, not just acted upon.  As far as she knows the unkiss is her first real, mature, and erotic kiss.  And it was impulsively done (clumsy) under circumstances where she wasn’t prepared to meet it like an equal participant.  And he left!  The cruelty is making her desire him and leaving her nothing but a bloody cloak.  While the addition of the cloak is factual, it speaks to what she was given, what she was left with, was ultimately unsatisfying though she kept it all the same.  “That day is done,” there’s no going back.  He upended her usual fantasies and rocked her world view.  No other erotic fantasy will measure up now and it’s over before it can be satisfied.  We know from the preceding passage about Loras that her conscious desires now hinge upon accepting the truth.  This isn’t fear or trauma, it’s disappointment.  Like “I kissed the Hound and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”  She’s consciously accepted her desire and must put it behind her immediately because he’s gone.

But not to worry because literarily speaking, GRRM has set us up for a do-over and she’s due to see him again really soon. ;)                

[junker-town]

Anfernee Simons is Portland’s golden ticket into NBA title contention

Elevating a nice team into title contention despite barely playing as a rookie? That’s just another way for this gifted 20-year-old to push his own limits.

Anfernee Simons isn’t allowed to try his most impressive shot in an NBA game. It’s a form of basketball sorcery few can process, let alone immediately master, that first emerged when he was a senior at Edgewater High School playing H-O-R-S-E against his head coach Jason Atherton.

The two challenged each other after practice and during gym class. H-O-R-S-E provided an opportunity for Simons to test himself by showing off a bold menu of trick shots, while placating a competitive spirit that turned every contest into a life-or-death event.

Dunks weren’t allowed, so Simons dealt letters with his limitless range, firing from the overlapping volleyball court that approximated an NBA three, or behind an arbitrary black line drawn nearly 40 feet from the rim. (Simons later asked Atherton, if he could shoot it during a game. “I told him if I call out ‘Black’, go ahead and fire it,” Atherton says. The coach finally granted permission on senior night.)

Simons enjoyed exploring his own limitations, which remain untapped. This is how The Shot was born. Imagine the deepest corner three possible, tucked a couple feet behind the NBA’s line. Now step over the baseline, out of bounds and behind the backboard. Impossible, right? Simons calls it his “safe shot.” Basic geometry politely disagrees.

The first time Atherton saw it, he wondered if Simons had secretly spent hours practicing on his own time. Nope. It was improvised.

Simons made the shot on his first try, then again when Atherton dared him to repeat it. According to his coach, in all the games they played together Simons drilled this exact shot at an 80 percent clip. “The first couple times I shot it, I’m like ‘I don’t know how the hell you’re doing this!” Atherton laughs. “He’s comfortable no matter where he is.”

Back then, Simons was a prodigious teenage question mark who barely weighed 160 pounds. Today, he’s a 20-year-old wildfire of natural talent entering his second season with the Portland Trail Blazers. It’s a season prefaced by towering expectations. As a rookie, Simons gave the team several reasons to be excited. But it’s his innate ability to make a complicated game look like a cakewalk that separates him from so many other young guards.

“The thing I’m most excited about is how easily the game comes to him,” Blazers general manager Neil Olshey says. “It’s very hard to put guys on the court that can’t score, and it’s something that comes very natural for him. It’s easy for him.”

Everything about him is casual, but Simons meets challenges imposed by coaches, opposing players, parents, and especially himself, with the restlessness of a master chef restricted to boiling hot dogs. “Some of the shots that are tough shots, he doesn’t make them look tough,” Trail Blazers head coach Terry Stotts says. “When he drives in the lane, there’s just an easiness to it.”

Simons can score at the rim, from mid-range, and behind the three-point line, but his outside shot is his calling card. It starts with wrists that make opponents feel like reality is in fast forward. One second, the defenders are crouched in a sound stance, arms out, feet staggered, and jumpy. The next, they’re yolk in a skillet.

“When I was young I’d just push the ball up. It was one motion,” Simons says, describing his unique jumper. “Usually when guys get older they make it two motions, so I kind of kept it as one motion and it’s still working out.”

Simons’ skillset is lined with cashmere. He says he models his game after Jamal Crawford, with a hint of teammate Damian Lillard’s aggressive mindset. Justin Zormelo, a private skills trainer who works with Simons, says Lillard is a fair comparison, but also recognizes Klay Thompson’s sense of calm. “I think if you combined [Dame and Klay] that’s who he is,” Zormelo says. “A rough draft copy of those two guys.”

The Blazers knew it’d be hard for any rookie to crack their rotation in 2019. They finished the previous season with 49 wins and one of the league’s deepest, most expensive rosters. “Risk tolerant” was how they viewed their draft strategy. Selected with the No. 24 pick in the 2018 NBA Draft, Simons only played 141 minutes during his entire rookie season, patiently waiting for garbage time to show what he could do while Lillard, CJ McCollum, and Jusuf Nurkic lifted the Blazers to another No. 3 seed.

“I think when his career is over, they’re all gonna say, ‘Where was he picked?!’” -Rick Pitino

Riding the bench wasn’t easy, but Olshey constantly reminded Simons he was a lottery talent who didn’t play for a lottery team. The opportunity to learn from one of the league’s best backcourts would pay dividends in the future.

“One of the things Dame and I talk to him about is his pace. I always tell him ‘You don’t have to go 100. Find your 80, find your 75 at first, and then progressively speed it up’,” McCollum says. “He’s got the total package, man. He’s 20 years old, not even old enough to drink.”

Olshey recently called Simons the most gifted player he’s ever drafted, a list that includes Lillard, McCollum, Blake Griffin, and several more notable names.

“He is not currently the best basketball player I drafted. He’s not the most functional player that I drafted at the time of the draft,” Olshey says. “But just in terms of his natural gifts at his age, and his God-given talent, it rivals anybody else that I’ve drafted in my career. Now, I don’t know if he’ll reach that ceiling as a player and put it all together, but the things that you basically can’t teach, in terms of just intrinsic talent, he has.”

With one of the highest payrolls in the league, the Blazers need low-cost production to elevate their established starpower. That not only makes Simons one of the most important people in the organization, but, given how open the league’s title race appears to be, he’s also one of the most essential young players in the entire NBA.

How soon can Simons bloom into the necessary source of internal growth the Blazers need to achieve their ultimate goal? Is he their golden ticket, or a tantalizing project that can’t live up to expectations? That development is caked into their short-term future as much as the long haul.

Photo by Chris Elise/NBAE via Getty Images

Anfernee Simons during his 35-point breakout performance at the NBA Summer League. “He’s as talented as anyone we’ve ever drafted,” Blazers GM Neil Olshey said.

It’s an early July morning in Las Vegas as Simons sits on a beige couch in the Four Seasons lobby. A matted flat-top adds five or six inches to his willowy 6’3 frame. He leans forward and folds his arms.

Those who know Simons sum up his personality with words like “shy” or “extremely quiet,” followed by “humble” and “polite.” They’re not wrong. Minus the retro concords and baby face, he could pass for a member of the Queen’s Guard. Limp eyelids rest above lips that don’t budge unless they must, and when they do, his voice carries only a brief hush. No handlers, coaches, trainers, brothers, sisters, cousins, teammates, childhood friends, or agents stand to the side. Instead, Simons is escorted into the lobby by his parents.

“If you didn’t know who Anfernee was, you’d have no idea that he’s one of the best basketball players in the world,” Atherton says. “That’s just kind of how he carries himself.”

Early last season, McCollum was tired of seeing Simons and fellow Blazers rookie Gary Trent Jr. wear cut-up jeans to games. He arranged for Antar Levar, McCollum’s clothier, to measure them for custom suits. Simons eventually settled on blue, gray, and glen plaid super 130’s from Cacciopoli, but the process wasn’t easy. Levar, who works with nearly 150 professional athletes and celebrities, was caught off guard by Simons’ extreme reticence.

“It was like pulling teeth out of a baby trying to get him to speak!” Levar laughs. “When I would show him stuff, he would barely be like yes or no. He’d be real subtle, real quiet, like ‘Nah, nah, nah,’ and then he’d say ‘Yeah, I like that. Nah, nah, nah.’’ It was real quick, and I was like, man, this guy, he’s not gonna say nothing!”

McCollum chuckles telling his version of the story: “Like they say, you’ve got two eyes, two ears, and one mouth for a reason.”

The Player Empowerment Era is wrapped inside a generation defined by self-promotion, but Simons is unassuming in a way that’s far from performative. He seems uncomfortable answering questions about himself, unsure how much to reveal or whether any of it is actually interesting. He doesn’t watch League Pass “unless there’s a good game on.” He’s content with a monotonous life pervaded by Marvel movies (Captain America: Civil War is his favorite), and video games.

Simons understands the importance of making new connections, but opening up takes time. Before his professional career began, Simons’ father Charles couldn’t remember seeing him chat and laugh with teammates on the bench. “He’s not a talker by nature,” Charles Simons says.

Perennial silence is not a deal breaker for NBA stars (see Leonard, Kawhi), but coaches throughout Simons’ life have tried to draw him out of his shell with unique leadership opportunities. At IMG Academy, where Simons spent a post-graduate year after high school, he handled the ball in critical situations and also collected his teammate’s uniforms after games. Even after he broke his hand in early October, Simons still participated in every conditioning exercise instructed by the coaching staff. Whether it was a grueling suicide drill or a simple down-and-back, he obsessed over finishing first and setting an example.

“We put him in positions where he has to deal with people, step up, and hold himself accountable,” IMG Academy’s post-grad head coach John Rhodes says. “You have to start with yourself before you can get others to follow, right?”

Portland’s staff grabbed the baton. The Blazers made Simons their starting Summer League point guard for several developmental reasons, one being it forced him to deal with teammates in ways he hasn’t before. “I still want him to be more assertive and more vocal,” Blazers assistant coach Jim Moran told reporters in Las Vegas. “Running the team, he needs to be more communicative.”

Simons agrees. “I’m used to not saying anything on the court,” he says. “Now it’s more, you’re running the team. You need to make sure everybody is in the same boat.”

Born in a suburb just north of Orlando and named after Magic icon Anfernee “Penny” Hardaway — as a fellow Tennessean, Charles was a fan — Simons could breeze through traffic cones with a live dribble by the time he was five. A family friend who coached one of Florida’s most prominent AAU teams worked him through basic drills. Simons shot on 10-foot rims and always used a regulation-sized NBA ball.

When organized games began two years later, referees allowed the kids to commit violations without penalty. Dribbling was optional for everyone … except Simons. “I was the dad that never let him play like a little kid,” Charles laughs.

Entering his freshman season at Edgewater High School, Simons was a 5’8, 130-pound, 13-year-old paper clip. Continuing a habit that began in the park eight years earlier, he spent two hours after the varsity team’s practice working on his game, and would constantly pester Atherton about the gym’s availability.

As a way to let his frail body catch up to a budding skillset, Simons reclassified down to the 2018 class after his sophomore year. He had spent most of his minutes playing off the ball, and opponents took advantage of his size on defense. Heading into his junior year, Montverde Academy, the same program D’Angelo Russell and Ben Simmons attended in prior years, had an open spot on their team. Simons was at first hesitant to transfer, but his parents encouraged him to step outside his comfort zone.

Montverde wasn’t a perfect fit. His playing time fluctuated, and the 40-minute commute from his parent’s home to campus was inconvenient when practices required a 3 a.m. wakeup call. But the experience had immense value. Simons himself detected immediate growth, and others now say Montverde was a pivot point in his trajectory.

“I just think it helped him understand that he played on a team with a lot of really good players,” Montverde associate head coach Rae Miller says. “Practices at our place are usually much harder than games because it’s so competitive.”

Simons re-enrolled at Edgewater the following season, three inches taller and the owner of previously unthinkable athleticism. By then, he was heavily recruited by several programs, including Louisville. Rick Pitino, the school’s former head coach, personally attended every one of Simons’ AAU games, scouting him with the same attention he gave Donovan Mitchell and Terry Rozier.

“I told the assistant coaches, ‘I’m recruiting Anfernee. He’s my guy,’” Pitino says. “I said ‘I’ll take care of him, you take care of the other guys.’ He’s done some things dunking the basketball, my mouth was open when I saw him do it.”

Simons committed to Louisville in the fall of 2016, but plans fell through when an NCAA corruption scandal led to Pitino’s termination soon after. In an effort to bulk up before his freshman season at another school, he pivoted to a post-grad year at IMG Academy, where first-class strength training facilities and a helpful nutrition program allowed Simons to get stronger. (Also, it’s where Penny Hardaway’s son Jayden became Simons’ teammate.)

At IMG, Simons put mesmerizing performances on film. A sky-high ceiling helped him become the first American-born player since 2005 to enter the NBA without first competing overseas or in the NCAA. During a lengthy phone conversation with Olshey before the draft, Pitino repeatedly referred to Simons as a steal who’d eventually make whoever selects him look like a genius. “I think when his career is over, they’re all gonna say, ‘Where was he picked?’,” Pitino says.

Photo by Joe Murphy/NBAE via Getty Images

Anfernee Simons during a pre-draft photoshoot in 2018. He was expected to attend Louisville, but chose to spend a year at IMG Academy due to Louisville’s involvement in the NCAA corruption scandal.

The first time Zormelo worked with Simons, he told him things few 18 year olds ever hear: You can make all-star teams. You should score 40 in an NBA game. When a team gives you the green light, 50 points will be an expectation.

At the time, Simons had knee tendinitis and couldn’t work out any longer than 30 minutes without limping. In addition to bringing in a specialist who helped build up his quad and alleviate the pain, Zormelo had Simons train against G League players. At first, their physicality and strength was too much. One week later he made the rim look wider than a manhole cover. “Those guys couldn’t guard him,” Zormelo says. “Nobody could guard him.”

A few months after, Simons held private pre-draft workouts in front of about 20 NBA teams. Wanting to silence any doubt about Simons’ body and game, Zormelo made a risky and unusual decision to put live defenders on him before every drill. “He was unconscious for three days,” says Zormelo, who’s trained Kevin Durant, Paul George, and myriad other NBA stars. “He had some of the best workouts I’d ever done, or ever seen.”

A few teams thought about taking Simons in the lottery. Even though his potential was Eddie Murphy circa 1979 — at one point he was a top-five pick in ESPN’s 2019 mock draft, right behind Zion Williamson, and R.J. Barrett — none would commit to a prospect who required such a long runway. Portland embraced the uncertainty and was confident he’d make headway on a timeline that didn’t force any immediate pressure on his narrow shoulders.

An early step toward vindication came in the first start of his career, which was also the last game of the 2018-19 regular season. With Portland’s key rotation players sitting out to prepare for the postseason, Simons scored 37 points to lead the Blazers back from a 25-point halftime deficit against the Sacramento Kings. It was a feat of technical excellence that was almost immediately overshadowed by an underlying message: This dude belongs.

In the process, Simons became the third teenager in NBA history to tally at least 37 points and nine assists in a game, the first two being LeBron James and Kevin Durant. Filter out assists, and Carmelo Anthony is the only addition to that list.

After the final buzzer, Olshey grabbed Simons in the locker room. Do you understand what you just did? The rhetorical question had an answer. Without a second of rest for 48 minutes, Simons locked Portland into the No. 3 seed.

That eventually bestowed an appreciative public with Lillard’s epic step-back over Paul George in Round 1 and McCollum’s status-elevating Game 7 against the Denver Nuggets in Round 2. All of that was lost on Simons, who only remembers how it felt to flow without worry, knowing the Blazers made only seven healthy players available.

“The innocence with which he looked at me,” Olshey says. “He was just excited to finally get an opportunity and play unfettered and not look over his shoulder.”

Simons continued to back up the hype at his second Las Vegas Summer League. He put the entire offensive package on display: cotton-ball floaters, step-back 25-footers, and coast-to-coast urgency with a lit-fuse live dribble. In his third game, as dozens of general managers, coaches, scouts, and executives across the NBA looked on, Simons carved up the Jazz for a Summer League-high 35 points. He left Las Vegas with an absurd 71.6 True Shooting percentage, 30.5 usage rate, and a spot on the Summer League’s All-Second team.

The Blazers view this tangible growth as a key to their future. By letting backup guard Seth Curry sign with Dallas and trading Evan Turner (who held the ball for more minutes than McCollum last season) to Atlanta for wing Kent Bazemore, Olshey purposefully cleared a path for Simons to contribute this season.

Zoom out and Portland’s rotation is volatile. For the first time since 2016, the Blazers will not start the year retaining more than 82 percent of the previous season’s minutes on their roster. No team in the league had more continuity over that stretch. “I think if we didn’t believe Anfernee was ready to step into that role then I would’ve played it safe and brought in a veteran,” Olshey says.

It’s easy to imagine scenarios where Simons breaks through to deliver moments that will foreshadow his staying power. The Blazers have successfully deployed three-guard units in the past and will use Simons, Lillard, and McCollum at the same time.

“I think with Anfernee’s size and athleticism and Dame’s ability to guard bigger players, that’s going to be a unique lineup for us,” Olshey says. Stotts also likes to platoon his starting backcourt, which will allow Simons to function as a more prominent weapon while one of Portland’s star guards gets some rest.

Photo by Sam Forencich/NBAE via Getty Images

The Blazers are hoping Anfernee Simons follows the same development path as C.J. McCollum (right). “I would’ve been a lot more immature than he was at that age,” McCollum says.

The Blazers are optimistic Simons will follow the blueprint laid out by McCollum, another combo guard whose shot options are “all of the above” at any given time. Like Simons, McCollum barely contributed as a rookie. By his third year, McCollum’s scoring average eclipsed 20 points per game. One difference: McCollum was 22 years old when he debuted, while Simons doesn’t turn 21 until next June.

“I would’ve been a lot more immature than he was at that age. He listens well, he works extremely hard and I think he got more comfortable as the year went on,” McCollum says. “I’m sure he feels like this is a chance for him to get some minutes and I’m sure the organization is looking at his performance, his development, and trying to figure out when that time is. It may very well be this season.”

Simons doesn’t know what his exact role will be this year, but he expects more responsibility. Scoring is obvious, but his ability to defend opposing backcourts while running the team’s offense is a mystery. “He’ll have opportunities,” Stotts says. “And he’ll grow with those opportunities.”

Of course, expectations don’t always align with progress, so the Blazers will adjust if Simons fails to take a meaningful step forward. “We have other alternatives on nights where he’s gonna struggle,” Olshey says. “Or he’s up against matchups that he’s just not ready to handle yet.

But Simons is also the most exciting archetype in sports: an ascending phenom who is now positioned to make the most of his natural ability. He can be the explosive supplement Portland didn’t have in the past.

The best-case, short-term scenario is that Simons alleviates the scoring burden Lillard and McCollum have carried by themselves. Whether he lets those two stars operate more off the ball — Portland is high on Simons’ “game sense,” aka the ability to initiate their offense — weaves around screens himself, or isolates on the wing, defenders can’t ignore him. On paper, that could make the team’s offense unguardable.

The Blazers are experienced enough not to crumble if Simons can’t handle his new duties, but it’s hard to see them winning it all during this era unless he soars. Based on a lifetime’s worth of evidence, that shouldn’t be a problem. Becoming a meaningful contributor is a challenge Simons knows he’ll conquer sooner rather than later. Just like a game of H-O-R-S-E.

[xfirespritex]

Wildfire

Pairing: Trent Seven X Reader Story Summary:  A year after their breakup Trent Seven comes to the reader, hoping for a reconciliation. Still friends but still feeling burned she has her doubts. Will she let him redeem himself? Warning: Cursing. Smut.

Tag List: 

@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @hiitsmecharlie @thedeboniardevistation @xxnobodyshero13xx @speedilyghostlycloud @fan-fiction-galore @amaranthine-reign @lordoftheringsmyass @justtheaverageblog1 @alpha-american @aineslight @reigns420 @deajm2116 @redroseblackwolfpack96 @blondekel77 @shieldgirl95 @vebner37 @banrioncethlenn @moxtiel @caramara3 @fmlallthewayup @breezy14fan @secretagentfangirl @crowleysqueenofhell @abominablestrowman279 @laochbaineann  @gelinas22 @logandemico

-----

 "How much for this shirt?" A girl with breasts as big as my head asked, holding up a tiny size small of one of Pete's shirts. 

 I told her the price and she joyfully handed the money over and, right there in the open, stripped her tank top off and pulled the purchased shirt on. Guys catcalled her and she giggled coyly before walking off. I rolled my eyes and put her money in the box. 

 "Well that was quite a show," a deep voice said from behind me. I didn't need to turn to know it was Trent.

 I laughed, short and quick, hoping it was enough to cover up the sudden flame of jealousy in my chest. Trent wanted that girl. The small, cruel voice on my head said.

 I turned to a box on the floor, Trent's shirts, and began laying a few out on the table. I arranged the mercy neatly and adjusted my own Moustache Mountain shirt, tugging it down as it has begun to ride up as I worked.

 "Aw, don't cover up love," came Pete's teasing voice as he slid a hand over my bare lower back before wrapping his arm around my side to my stomach and pulling me back against him.

 I laughed despite myself as Pete nibbled playfully at my shoulder. He chuckled and placed an obnoxiously loud kiss on my cheek before releasing me.

 "Animal," Tyler joked as he tugged my shirt down for me, his hands sliding over my hips before winking at me. 

 I winked back and returned to my work. Pete and Trent went to greet a few guys who walked in and Tyler stood next to me and watched me work.

 "You know Trent doesn't actually want that girl from before, yeah?"

 I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't matter, Tyler. Trent and I haven't been together for over a year, he can do what he wants."

 "He wants you back," Tyler said.

 I stopped folding the shirt in my hands and turned to look at him. "Stop fucking around," I said, shaking my head and going back to my work. 

 "Would I fuck around about this?" 

 I kept working, keeping my eyes on the merchandise as people began filing in. Tyler gripped my hand and turned me to face him.

 He spoke low and quick, his eyes tracking Trent and Pete as they began working their way back over. 

 "He knows he fucked up. He doesn't want to hurt you again. The man loves you but he's too much of an ass to say something. He's afraid to fuck it up again."

 I sighed. "Can we drop it, Tyler?"

 "No, Y/N, we can't. Two of my best friends love each other and aren't together. It's stupid."

 "It was Trent's choice. Not mine," I said before turning to face customers. They bought shirts and took pictures with the guys, Trent and Pete returning just in time.

 ---

 When we got to the hotel that night I tried my best not to scream at Tyler as he tossed his bag on the bed with Pete. Normally Tyler or Pete and I slept in the same bed with the other on a couch bed and Trent in a bed to himself.

 This sleeping arrangement he'd just created was the one from when Trent and I had been together. Trent noticed too and looked at me questioningly. 

 I shrugged like it didn't bother me and flipped open my bag. I dug through it for my toiletries and pajamas, going to shower before bed.

 I heard the guys joking and talking as I turned the shower on and stripped before getting in under the spray. 

 My mind wandered to Trent, wondering how I'd get any sleep next to him tonight. Resigning myself to the fact that I wouldn't sleep I showered quickly before getting out. Putting my hair in a quick wet braid I pulled in my pajama shorts and a tank top and gathered my dirty clothes before walking out of the bathroom. 

 "Shower is free," I called to the room as I rounded the corner. Only there was no one there. Except Trent.

 "Where'd those two run off to?" I asked, setting my stuff down on the bed. I carefully folded my items and out then in the part of my bag where I kept my dirty clothes. 

 "They went to grab a drink," he said from the edge of our bed as he flipped through the channels. 

 "You didn't want to join?"

 "Trying to get rid of me?" He said, his voice teasing but it was off somehow. Sadder. I zipped up my bag and hauled it to the space by the closet before collapsing on the bed next to him. 

 "What's bugging you?" I asked. Trent laughed lightly and settled on Die Hard, putting the remote down. 

 "Nothing, why?" He said, standing and going to his bag, looking for something inside. My mind went back to the conversation with Tyler earlier.

 "Those assholes didn't really go for a beer, did they?"

 Trent stopped rummaging through his bag and turned to look at me. "Tyler ran his mouth tonight, huh?"

 I shrugged one shoulder and remained silent. Trent's eyes blazed with anger for a moment but it disappeared quickly. 

 He dropped his hands to his sides and sat on the opposite bed, his eyes in his hands as they hung below his knees.

 "You must think I'm a real asshole," he said.

 I shrugged again. "Are we really going to talk about this?" I asked, hearing the nervousness in my own voice.

 "Not if you don't want to," he said, his voice soft, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

 "I think we need to clear the air so that Tyler drops it. Pete too since he seems to have been in on it."

 Trent nodded. "Yeah, probably best."

 "Before we do, can you promise me two things?" I asked.

 "Anything," he said.

 "We are both honest, 100 percent. And no matter how this goes we stay friends, keep working together."

 His lips twitched into an almost smile and he nodded. "Promise."

 I nodded then I didn't know what to say. So I waited. Trent, realizing he was going to have to start ran his hands through his hair. 

 "Okay so, not sure how to start this...at least without sounding like an idiot."

 I reached over the small gap and took his larger hand in my two much smaller ones. "Just say it, Trent."

 He turned his hand over and gripped mine. He took a breath and looked at me, his eyes showing an emotion I had never seen from him, ever. Fear.

 "I miss you. And I know you don't care and I know I don't have a right to miss you when I did the leaving but..." he shrugged, his voice drifting off at the end.

 I bit my lip. Realizing that he didn't know what to expect, he didn't know what to tell me. 

 "Why did you? Leave, I mean."

 "I thought that, as much as I liked you, cared for you, I didn't need you. Not in terms of a relationship anyway. I didn't think I wanted to settle down. I wanted to go out and party and meet people."

 "And sleep around?" I asked, trying to keep all hurt from my face. The look on his told me that I hadn't succeeded.

 Trent swallowed once and, looking ashamed, nodded.

 "Did you cheat on me?"

 "What? No, fuck no." He looked shocked that I had even considered the scenario.

 "I had to know."

 "I'm an idiot but I'm not that much of an idiot or that much of an asshole."

 I shrugged. "It was hard to tell, I mean you started up with, I don't remember her name. The blonde, pretty quickly after we split. She was around a lot."

 Trent frowned. "I didn't realize how bad that must have looked."

 I laughed, short harsh. "Clearly."

 He sighed and I dropped his hand, sitting back, resting on my hands behind me. Trent watched me for a minute.

 "Okay, so I'm a fucking asshole and I didn't think. Clearly I didn't since I lost you. And for what? A couple flings and to be miserable. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me sometimes."

 I said nothing as he stood and began pacing. "Do you know how much it kills me to see you around other guys?"

 I quirked an eyebrow at him and waited. He laughed. "Not making it easy on me, yeah? And seriously, why should you?"

 He kept pacing and I watched his body movements. "At the events when the guys are all changing a few weeks ago someone made a comment about you. About wanting to fuck you. Pete and Tyler had to drag me out of there, I wanted to rip his head off."

 "When was this?"

 "The night I busted that guy open."

 I thought back to a few weeks ago and remembered the guy. A disgusted shiver ran through me. "He's the one who made the comment? What did he say?"

 Trent let out a sound like an angry snarl before answering me. "Yeah. He said any woman who saw fit to travel with three guys had to be easy. That he'd take you off our hands for the night but give you back the next morning...when he was finished with you."

 "That's why you wailed on him like that?"

 "Of course. Unlucky for him he was my opponent that night."

 I laughed once, bitterly. "Good. I've seen him at shows. He always tries to get with different girls...thanks for keeping him back."

 Trent laughed once and stopped pacing to look at me. "But that's not what kills me. Guys talk, he just pushed his luck with what he said. But do you know how insane it is that I'm jealous of Pete and Tyler?"

 I laughed, truly laughed at that. Trent laughed a bit too, the sound bitter still. "I know it's not the same, I know you've never black balled me completely but I see them next to you, touching you, kissing your cheek and all that and I fucking hate them for it. Cause I want to be them."

 I frowned. "Trent, you know it's nothing..."

 "I know that but still I hate it. I hate that they fall asleep next to you and I just get to lay one bed over from the woman I love and can't even fucking do anything about it."

 He stopped, his entire body freezing then. I sat up straight and stared at him, his back slightly to me as he’d been pacing towards the far wall.

 He didn’t move, hell he looked like he was barely breathing. I stood and walked over to him, slowly reaching out to place my small hands on his large shoulders. He hung his head as my hands made contact with him and I pushed gently. When he faced me he kept his head down but, given how much shorter I was than him we were still looking in each other’s eyes.

 “Can we…forget that part?” he asked.

 “That depends. Are you saying it because you mean it or because you hate being alone?”

 His eyebrows knit together in confusion at my question. “How could you even think that? That I’d say that just go get you back in my bed?” His voice rose slightly, not quite yelling but indignant.

 “I thought that because it’s hard to believe the guy that broke my heart a year ago, that I’ve watched and hated watching with other girls, is finally coming back to me. It’s the second time today someone said you love me and I didn’t want to let myself believe it earlier because it just makes moving on harder.”

 “Fucking Tyler…” Trent grumbled slightly.

 “So, which is it Trent?”

 He stared at me, his eyes searching my face as he weighed his options. Slowly, as if he was afraid to scare me, his right hand came up and cupped the side of my face. His hand, so large and warm, felt comforting against my skin.

 “I was in love with you when I had you. I just didn’t know it.”

 I stared up at him, feeling my heart begin to race as he pulled me closer to him, letting our foreheads rest against each other. I could feel my body shaking as the adrenaline started to pump through me but I didn’t move, I waited.

 “Is it okay? That I love you?” Trent asked, his voice soft, barely a whisper. His eyes locked on mine and I remembered all the hours I’d spent staring into them, how he’d look at me in the morning when we woke up together, how he’d look at me, hungrily when we were out in public, promising more when we were alone. I shivered and bit my lip.

 “Trent…” I started. He released me quickly, stepping back, all color gone from his face.

 It was strange, to be so small compared to him and see the fear that the hesitation in my voice brought out in him. I could see his eyes begin to change, sadness taking over them and I frowned, quickly stepping back into his space, reaching my tiny hands to his face and running my fingers into his hair.

 “I need to know this is it. If we start again, I need to know you won’t be gone again when you get bored or scared of commitment. If you burn me again I don’t know how I’d handle that.”

 “I won’t,” Trent said, his hand covering mine. “I swear to you, on everything, I’m not going anywhere.”

 I bit my lip and stared up at him. “Trent…”

 “Yeah?”

 “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

 The smile that broke over his face made my heart swell and he pulled me to him slowly, gently and his lips hovered over mine for a moment, giving me a chance to back out. When I didn’t he brushed his lips over mine, gently at first before claiming my mouth fully.

 I didn’t expect the moan that escaped me as he pulled me against him, lifting me slightly as he deepened the kiss. The sound seemed to turn him on more and he slid his hands down my body to my ass and lifted me easily into his arms.

 I gasped as our hips came into contact and broke the kiss, looking at him, now at eye level as I wrapped my legs around him.

 “I forgot how easy it was for you to do that,” I gasped.

 He laughed and walked towards our bed. Our bed. It sounded good. I’d missed that. When he laid me down gently I noticed how slow, how careful he was still being.

 “Trent, I didn’t break before. I’m not going to break now.”

 “I don’t want you to think that we have to…”

 “I want to,” I said, cutting him off.

 A growl broke through Trent and he leaned down over me, his weight even and comforting as his lips attacked my jaw line and neck. His hands found my breasts and teased them through the tank top and I was glad that I hadn’t worn anything underneath the tank top.

 “Fuck,” Trent gasped. “Y/N, woman, you’ll be the death of me. Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep knowing you were in a bed with one of those fuckers, dressed like this?”

 I laughed. “Did you ever think I continued dressing like this on purpose just to get some small payback on you?”

 “Oh really?” Trent said, laughing slightly as he took my tank top in his hands and yanked it off of me. The second the fabric was gone Trent’s mouth and tongue were on me, making me gasp and moan. I could feel the wetness between my legs growing and ground my hips up against him and he grumbled back against my skin.

 “Oh no, not so fast, love,” he said, sliding down my body, placing kisses as he went. I grabbed at the fabric of his t-shirt and tugged as he went, removing it from him. He chuckled and continued his slow torture between teeth, lips, tongue and fingers across my skin and I moaned as my head fell back against the pillows.

 When he reached my shorts he wasted no time tugging them off, my underwear quickly joining them. I was about to say something when he spread my legs and I heard him moan and felt the bed shift. His facial hair brushed my thighs, making me shiver and I all but screamed as his mouth found my core.

Reaching down I grabbed at his hair with one hand, the other fisting into the sheets as he worked me. It was less than a minute later when I felt myself approaching orgasm and I gasped out a warning to him, begging him to stop.

“Why stop, love?” Trent asked, his breath gliding over my wet sex as he waited for an answer.

“Need you inside me. Need you,” I gasped, tugging slightly at him. He complied, standing and removing his pants and boxers quickly, sliding his body over mine until we were face to face again.

“You sure?” he whispered. I whimpered and reached up, stealing a kiss and tasting myself there.

He groaned and a thrill went through me. I remembered that he always loved that, me tasting myself on his lips and tongue. I could feel his length pressing against my thigh and could tell from how he held himself he was resisting sliding in.

I reached down and grasped his length, shuddering as I remembered and relearned just how much of Trent there was. He groaned and buried his face into my neck, kissing and biting there.

Positioning him at my entrance with on hand I wrapped the other around his shoulders, my nails digging in slightly.

“Please Trent,” I gasped in his ear.

“Don’t need to tell me twice love,” He said, bracing his weight on his arms as he began to slide into me. I whimpered at the feeling and he let out a groan as the tightness engulfed him inch by inch.

“Fuck, love,” he groaned, his eyes turned down to look at where we were joined. “So fucking tight.” I could only whimper as my orgasm raced against my self-control.

“Trent, just fucking move,” I begged, a whine in my voice. He knew the sound well, he knew I was close, waiting for him.

His hips began to move slowly, settling all of him inside me for only a moment before pulling out and snapping into me hard. I gasped and a small laugh of joy escaped me at the feeling, fireworks exploding under my skin as I wrapped my legs around him as best I could.

Soon the room was all sounds and gasps, skin on skin as he thrust into me. Sweet whispered left his lips as they brushed every inch of skin he could reach and I was doing my best to not claw up his back, my teeth finding temporary homes along his shoulder and upper arms. He groaned with each bite and continued to pound into me and I gasped as he hit the spot inside me.

“There it is,” he chuckled, thrusting at the same angle over and over. “Cum for me, love. Right behind you,” he gasped, his hips snapping into mine.

When I came I was grateful that Trent covered my mouth with his hands because the scream that left me probably would’ve drawn the police to our room. He came a moment after me, a low groan as his body shook and shuddered against mine.

As soon as he collapsed next to me I curled into his side, tossing a leg over his body as well.

Trent chuckled and held me close and I looked up at him as his eyes focused on the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He took a few breaths before looking at me, his eyes sparkling again. “I just missed you, us. Sex yeah but goddamn I missed just laying with you. All I want to do now is make sure I don’t lose you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, exhaustion slowly seeping into me.

“I am, but for just one minute,” he said, standing and getting a wash cloth to wipe us down and helping ease me into my pajamas again, pulling on his own sweats.

“Don’t need those assholes seeing you naked,” he said pulling me into his side once more.

I laughed and we laid in silence, stealing kisses and running our fingers over each other’s skin. I was nearly asleep when I heard the room door open tentatively.

Pete and Tyler came in and, in hushed voices celebrated.

“Yeah, you fuckers were right. Now shut the fuck up and let my girl sleep,” Trent said. Something told me, even though my eyes were closed, that Trent hadn’t opened his either to make his statement.

Tyler and Pete laughed before settling who slept where, turning off the lights and collapsing on their own beds.

“Hey guys?” I said, clearing my throat.

“Yeah?” they said in unison.

“Thanks for disappearing for beers.”

Tyler and Pete laughed. “Don’t thank them, love. I know they put it on my card,” Trent said. Pete and Tyler laughed louder and I giggled into Trent’s chest before sleep took over.

[dastardlydandelion]

more rubber duck ‘verse

misc tidbits abt what i’ve dubbed the rubber duck ‘verse fic i won’t write bc i’m attached now.

under the cut bc it’s long. 

max’s residual anger toward susan is complicated. she’s angry that her mother ever got together with someone like neil, that she spent yrs growing up in fear and that she has to bear the impact of that by proxy of susan’s decision to marry neil. but she also loves her siblings v much and she wouldn’t have them if susan didn’t get together with neil, and that gives her all kinds of weird feelings. acknowledges her mother was also a victim in the situation, isn’t rly angry at how it ended with neil but nonetheless wishes the rest of them could’ve left sooner— and left without the bloodshed —bc she defo believes neil deserved what he got, but she doesn’t believe susan or the rest of them deserved the fallout. she didn’t rly want to spent a decade without her mother and helping a v unprepared billy raise a child. :( 

before neil’s slaying, at one point susan comes home whilst a babysitting billy’s stereo is blaring and she’s like?? ‘the heck?? ur gonna make the bby cry,’ >:( and billy’s all, ‘no, this is literally why it isn’t crying anymore,’ and shuts off the stereo to prove it. sure enough, ducky wakes up and promptly starts bawling. susan is speechless, totally mystified.

even long after neil’s slaying, when ducky’s living with her siblings in cali, she cannot sleep unless she blasts a lil metal before bedtime. it puts her at ease.

ducky looks more like neil than susan. has neil’s hair, neil’s eyes. gets the tall genes from both of them tho. grows tall v early on tbh, shoots up like a fucking weed. ends up around billy’s height even going from puberty blockers to hrt. ducky does not have susan’s proportionately long legs, she’s got more of a long torso.

speaking of susan’s legs for days, uh. part of the emotional abuse on neil’s end was constantly degrading and nitpicking her appearance to the point that susan felt like a hideous blob. while she’s in prison she genuinely doesn’t notice when other inmates fight over her. even when one fight gets so bad the shivs come out and one lady gives the other a buck fifty to the face, susan is completely oblivious that she’s what’s being fought over.  

ducky doesn’t just collect rubber ducks, she kinda waddles like a duck too, is the exact opposite of athletic. max tries to teach her to skateboard on numerous occasions, all of which end in scrapes and bruises, a grand total of three prompting visits to the emergency room. billy tries to play basketball with ducky and the poor thing can’t get the ball in the hoop even once. he also accidentally knocks her out when she fails to catch his pass and the ball hits her so hard in the face that when she drops, billy swears he sees the lil’ cartoon birds flying around her head.

ducky is v good at building things tho. has an affinity for super complicated lego projects. makes a hammerhead shark for billy’s 30th bday and it’s literally life-size.

max sticks around even after she’s eighteen both to help billy with ducky and bc, like. yk. it’s a modern au. equipped with the modern cost of living in cali. neil’s life insurance only went so far. max saves more staying at home, goes to community college and works in the cafeteria on campus. it takes her awhile to graduate bc she changes her major several times, but by the time susan’s out, she has her degree…and finds herself working a menial job in a skate shop anyway. yk how it goes tho, lotta competition out there and sadly community college degrees are often undervalued. max likes the skate shop tho. quickly rises from an associate to managerial position bc she’s v good at setting the customers up with the right boards.

susan’s return is p awkward for everyone, to say the least. at this point max has worked thru most of that residual, complex anger, and she and susan have written each other letters over the yrs where the reality of the household was addressed v frankly and she didn’t hold back expressing those feelings at all. nonetheless, some traces of anger still remain and while she’s glad to have her mom back, susan too is adjusting to life outside in an entirely different state and she’s not quite the person max remembers.

susan actually has a lot of trouble coping with freedom. even before being incarcerated, she lived according to neil’s rules and demands. being completely and utterly in charge of herself is a struggle to adapt to. sometimes she asks billy and max permission for small, odd things neither of them would ever care abt and it just. makes max. so, so sad.

billy is often ??? when it comes to susan. tbvh he’s grateful she killed neil and that fucks with his head a lil. bc neil was his parent and yes, he did love him. he hates that he loved him, but he did. and he wonders if that love is why he didn’t kill neil himself, bc he 100% thought abt it. he also has no idea if susan regrets it or not, has no clue whatever her various apologies over the yrs were for. killing neil, being promoted to parent against his will, or for errything that came even before the night of the slaying. susan turning away, shutting her eyes to his bruises. 

also at first billy’s unsure if susan thinks she’s going to be head of household upon her return. since she’s like, the oldest and natal mother of max n ducky. this defo reveals itself to be an untrue concern in every way, quite the opposite. susan can barely comprehend freedom, let alone being in charge. some days susan dead ass asks billy permission to leave the dinner table even if she’s the one who cooked dinner.

ducky is also ??? when it comes to susan for v different reasons. she’s known the exact circumstances of susan’s incarceration since she was seven. before that, billy and max would be vague abt what she was locked up for and they never rly talked abt neil much beyond, ‘ur better off without him, he sucked big time.’

max is the one who eventually goes into graphic detail with ducky abt the whole thing bc she remembers that night and what happened before susan got home. how she had to step in bc she was fucking terrified neil was going to literally kill baby ducky. how she actually hit neil for the v first time even tho she’d wanted to many, many times. how she hit and kept hitting him, pummeling her fists against his body until he put ducky down. but once he did, that meant it was his turn. and ofc, neil hit much harder. max vividly recalls how badly her eye throbbed, swollen shut for two days. her nose wasn’t broken but it bled a whole lot, over her lips, into her mouth, down her chin, and the taste of blood lingered awfully.

ducky is naturally disturbed by the whole thing but her feelings toward susan aren’t as complicated as max’s or even billy’s for that matter. she doesn’t remember neil at all. and while she’s also written and received letters from susan, as well as the illicitly ordered rubber ducks, and she knows in a distant way susan is her mother, it doesn’t actually *feel* like she is. it feels more like susan is a kind of…special penpal, tbh. billy remains the person ducky goes to for parental guidance.

ducky still wants to get closer to susan tho. when the time comes for her to legally change her name, she asks susan to write a list of names she would’ve considered had she been afab, and goes on to choose one from the list.

even before she came out tho, ducky was p much called by her nickname at home anyway. both billy and max knew neil had picked her (dead)name out and neither of them rly wanted to acknowledge that. neither of them rly wanted to deal with the remaining traces of neil in their lives any more than they had to, any more than they already grappled with.

ducky has quite the degree of success getting susan into legos. this surprises both max and billy. but in prison susan would do crafts whenever available and she enjoyed stacking cups and stuff during rec time, so it’s not hard to translate these hobbies into legos. they build p neat things together sometimes— however, the hammerhead is all ducky, come billy’s birthday. she wanted to do that specially for her big bro, all by herself.

now, susan’s birthday present to billy is a big ass breakdown after midnight. lots of snotty sobbing. she hugs him so hard she’s hurting him a lil tbh and just apologizes profusely for errything and thanks him for taking care of her kids even tho he shouldn’t have had to. billy thanks susan too— it takes a min for her to figure out what for. bc they don’t talk abt that. no one’s mentioned that since she’s been out.

susan just nods a lil bit and lets go. they eat some more cake. life goes on. everything gets less awkward in time. susan stops asking for permission to move freely. ducky keeps filling up the shelves with rubber ducks of every variety, and dnd becomes another one of her interests in middle school, a hobby max nostalgically revisits with her. billy’s returned to surfing recreationally. swims a lot, finds it soothing and it helps keep him in shape. is a good low-impact workout to balance the weightlifting he still defo does, stereo blaring. 

getting a job for convicted felons is difficult but eventually susan finds work on a commercial goat farm. she learns to herd goats and takes them out to areas where there are invasive grasses or dry brush particularly vulnerable to wildfire. the goats graze on the invasive vegetation and the dry brush, which helps prevent wildfires. no, i’m srs, this is an actual thing. she likes the goats a lot. they’re easier to talk to than ppl, sometimes. 

[ecotone99]

[SF] Bone Tired

"I hate this," Lucy groaned, scrunching up her face. "It's so gross."

"I know," sighed Grimm patiently. "I know it's not what you signed up for with this apprenticeship, and I know you still find it creepy, but it's what sells right now and if we don't adapt then we'll be left behind and you won't have an apprenticeship at all." Grimm picked up a child's skull and passed it gently to her. "Now attach the jacks just like I showed you. The holes are already drilled, you just have to fit them and wire them to the psionic recievers." Lucy gingerly took the skull. She knew it was just bone, but something about touching it felt wrong. She overcame the desire to wash her hands and started to rummage around the desk for her tools. Grimm's were already out, but they weren't hers.

She slid the metal jack into the drill hole wincing as it scraped dryly at the brittle edges. It was so unfair for this to happen to her now, only a year into what should have been a normal mech apprenticeship. Working on robotics, tweaking code, taking apart engines, that was what she'd signed up for. Admittedly she'd spent most of her first year cleaning out pipes and organising scrap, but she knew that she'd eventually be allowed to do the exciting stuff. And she had; for a month. Grimm had finally relented to her begging, and grudgingly allowed her to do the routine upgrade of a service droid. And she was good at it. Unbeknownst to Grimm, she'd been up late most nights trawling the Weave for courses and tutorials on exactly that kind of thing, hoping to impress him enough to let her do some real work. It'd paid off too. For a whole month Grimm had been letting her help out with his commissions; until the bones were discovered.

Lucy toyed with a few fragments of wire, waiting for the sealant holding a jack in place to dry. It'd only take a few minutes, then she could solder the recievers into place. That's where it'd started of course, the psionic recievers. The news spread like wildfire when alloys that reacted to the presence of thought were discovered. Did that mean there was some kind of ether thoughts could move through? Were psychics actually real? Could it prove the existence of a soul? In an effort to prove the latter, a med student had stolen a skull from his lecturer and hooked it up to some of the new psionic material and a neural cap. The student ended up in a psyche ward, broken by the backlash. He raved about memories that couldn't have been his, and the press ate it up. The idea captured the public imagination, and within a week the practice of bone reading was established. Bones, skulls especially, hold memories. They seep into the matter over a lifetime and for a while after death they persist. Not a soul, but more like a footprint in the sand. If you had the right tech and were skilled enough you could pull memories, experiences, even talents from a skull. The market for bones and recievers exploded overnight. Eventually the government had to clamp down on the use of bones, establishing a legal trade to stem the sudden rise in graverobbing, and pouring serious research into bone reading to establish a safe way to do it. Reading with no safeties was causing a flood of new and severely unstable mental patients, and as even dead people could tell state secrets now, bone reading represented a whole new branch of espionage. Buffers, jacks, breakers and dampeners were all quickly developed and released, though it was only legal for certain licenced mech shops to fit a skull. And lucky for her, Grimm had jumped right on it. She sighed and reached for the little skull, absently rolling it between her hands. Why would anyone want to use one of them? She understood police wanting access to a victim's memories, or a government wanting some spy's intel, but normal people like her? The thought made her shiver. The cold jack bit into her palm as she toyed with the skull. It wasn't hard to use, you just plugged in a special headset in like it was a macabre music player. The tech did the rest, and you got a whole new set of memories, maybe even lost some old ones... She hastily put the skull back down and jumped up, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. "Grimm!" She yelled, "I'm going out for a bit, for um... for wire."

"Sure," he called faintly back, clearly distracted by some other project in the shop. "Don't be back too late, Martha is sending round pizza as payment for that last bot repair." Lucy bit her lip guiltily at the lie, but pulled on her boots as fast as she could and dashed out the back entrance.

She stuffed her hands deep in her hoodie pockets and walked quickly down the crowded street. From every side neon signs and holgoraphic posters screamed with rainbows of garish colour, boasting the wares of a hundred shops and stalls crammed into the narrow lane. All around her merchants yelled, calling customers to their stall, mocking their competitiors, telling outright lies about the quality of their wares. "Miss, miss! You look so thin! Come and look at my stall, every kind of candy to put some meat on those bones!" Called a cheerfully plump merchant, waving at lines of sweets gittering like glass in the neon light.

"Neutral implants! Cerebral serums! Intelli chips! Discount operations! Totally risk free! Outthink any AI!"

"Fruit! Get your fruit! Apples, pears, mangos! All perfectly unnatural, get your genetically modified fruit here!" A woman shouted brusquely, gesturing entusiastically at a collection of oranges larger than Lucy's head.

Lucy grinned and shook her head. This was exactly what she needed, a sea of voices to drown out that one whisper in her head. The lights, the crowd, it felt almost like it did before the bone craze. And it wasn't like she hated her job. She loved it here, she'd always wanted to be part of this mad, wonderful, technicolour city and now she was. Maybe things would die down again and she could go back to tinkering in the shop with Grimm like before.

"Bones! bones! Fresh bones, filled with memories! Stuffed with secrets! All of the highest quality! I have musicians, artists, scientists, lovers! Got 'em all here!" Lucy's head snapped round to stare hungrily at the stall of dirty, yellowed skulls. An emaciated woman leered at passersby, waving them over with grubby hands. "You! Little girl! How would you like to be a dancer? A poet? A pilot? Got 'em all here, fresh as you like!" Lucy gazed fixedly at a small skull, scarcely larger than her fist. There was still some grave dirt smeared around the eyesockets.

Biting back tears, she pushed her way back into the crowd and hurried back towards the shop. Maybe if she tried it just once she could let it go and things would go back to normal, maybe she could just forget.

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[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

potty training at 18 months | puppy training austin

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potty training at 18 months | puppy training austin

About Sirius By eating at random times, they will need to poop at random times too. Health advice Stainless Steel (5) What’s your experience been like with crate training? #dog #dogpads #dogphotographer #petphabet #pottypads #puppydog #puppy #puppylove #puppys #puppy❤️ Find a Purebred Puppy With Partners Dog Training, we are here for you. Too many trainers claim to “fix” your dog and leave you hanging. At Partners, we are devoted to discussing, educating and following up. From experienced consultants; to one-on-one check-in interviews, to transition lessons and group classes. Our training system is designed to help you and your dog find success! Memorials & Honorary Gifts Fear and Aggression Due to space limitations it isn’t always possible, but you should try to avoid places such as bedrooms, areas where children play or anywhere you prepare or store food. This doesn’t leave many options! July 3, 2018 Wednesday, July 4 letters: Oil production, pets, wildfire Friday 11:30am to 6:00pm If they want to ‘go’ they will just move away from their bed and ‘go’. No matter where they are. Indoors or out, its all the same to them. Technology Snap on the leash and go for a walk, keeping your dog close to your side. If he starts to tug or get ahead of you, stop, ask him to sit. Then wait a second or two before you begin walking again. Repeat the command, heel or with me as you walk. Stop at all intersections or crosswalks and have him sit. When you begin walking again, make sure he’s looking at you and staying at your heel while you walk. Training for Dog Sports What are their health issues? Method 1 – is the quickest way of house training a dog if you are starting with a puppy. With method 2, you have to train him twice, once to use the pads indoors, and again when it comes to learning to pee outside. Live Betta Fish LabradorTrainingHQ 8. Allow them to fail safely. A: If the email notification is missing, first check your Spam folder. Depending on your email provider, it may have mistakenly been flagged as spam. If it is not found, please email customer service at (customerservice@thegreatcourses.com) or call customer service at 1-800-832-2412 for assistance. You do this by using a cue word and walking them on leash to their potty spot, not allowing them to do anything else and if they do not potty, taking them back inside and trying again in a few minutes. Flooding Therapy As guide dog puppy raisers we follow all the rules and puppy training guidelines outlined in our puppy manual and when it comes to potty training our puppy we simply turn to page 42 in our manual and follow the instructions on how to potty train a puppy. Puppy Raising Packages Reid, Pamela J. (1996). Excel-Erated Learning, Explaining (in Plain English) How Dogs Learn and How Best to Teach Them, James & Kenneth Publishers. One of the first questions that most new owners ask when they get their new puppy is about training, more specifically what training and when. For a complete guide to raising a healthy and happy puppy don’t miss The Happy Puppy Handbook. Register a Litter See More About Hill’s Dramatic changes in diet very often lead to loose stools or diarrhea, your puppy becomes physically incapable of holding it in and this is the worst thing that can happen during house training (not to mention all the cleaning you’ll have to do!) Where should the cage be located? Views: 911,949 Lauren School Closings Returns & Exchanges Frequently Asked Questions Ordering & Shipping The PetCareRx Guarantee Discounts & Promotions The PetCareRx Points Program Auto Delivery 2 count Tip 2: Be Prepared Youtube Video About Blue Cross Clubs Offering: Why not give my Dog Training Genesis programs a try today? Seriously. I take all the risk so you have nothing to lose. Email Address* Media Resources New name or old, as much as possible, associate it with pleasant, fun things, rather than negative. The goal is for him to think of his name the same way he thinks of other great stuff in his life, like “walk,” “cookie,” or “dinner!” Paw care Automatic Feeders Club Development Department Training fees ^ Top of Page Working in Australia · 9:30 AM: Walk Lifetime Guarantee Private, in-home lessons begin with a hands-on evaluation of your puppy by an experienced, certified dog trainer. The program includes: Never shout their name if you are angry – puppies must associate their names with good things. Dogs Trust Take your dog outside frequently. This is the most important thing you can do to teach your dog to relieve himself outside. While it may seem excessive, try to take him outside as frequently as possible, about every half an hour. Stick to a schedule and try not to miss even one designated “outside time,” since your dog will learn to associate these outside trips with relieving himself.[1] New Website Help Guide 7 First Aid Tips for Saving a Puppy Who is Drowning Friendship Park Conservatory Building a Relationship If you notice a mess after it has happened, you are not supervising closely enough. Jump up ^ “Specializing in Dog Aggression and Dog Behavior”. Dog Behavior Rehab. Retrieved 15 December 2011. Not Helpful 10 Helpful 23 Many Owners Should Paper Train Their Puppies ‘Just In Case’ “If you actually hurt them, you’re validating their aggression … the dog had learned to use ‘fight,’ it learned that if it bit at things, it could get its way.” Spot Ons Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account. 1 (800) 419-8748 Bayer Expert Care Hiking with dogs PURINA.COM.AU Advertisement Life ​Susa has been a joy to have at home.  We train every day and she seems to love the exercises.  As you can see from the picture, she has become quite enthusiastic about coming when called (and all her other exercises.)  Thanks again for your wonderful work with her. CEUs: 21 Family animals Is he allowed in the kitchen when meals are being prepared? (can be unsafe if things get dropped) When you are housetraining your puppy, you should expect a few accidents to occur along the way because your puppy can only hold his bladder for about one hour per month of age. Though pet stains are an expected part of housetraining, they can be stubborn and difficult to remove. Police Scanner In around 127-116 B.C. a Roman farmer, Marcus Varro, recorded advice on raising and training puppies for herding livestock. His writings indicate that not only was dog training for specific tasks well established, but that the value of early training was recognised.[5] 96% of reviewers would recommend this product Not Helpful 14 Helpful 51 $19.97$29.99 124573 Quiz: Which Image Is Not Like The Others So although when home I’m vigilant and very actively house training my puppy to toilet outside, I also have to paper train them for the odd occasion I’m not home. After speaking with many friends and owners, I know this is a common scenario for many.

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fbq('track', 'ViewContent', content_ids: 'dogtraining.dknol', ); Renee Schreurs, Owns two pugs, Monster and Diablo. Sponsored Stories 20% off your first Repeat Delivery order Terms & Conditions Beds & Furniture Copyright © 2018 · Puppy In Training · Privacy Policy· Sitemap Saturday 8:00am – 1:00pm The cons are clearly going apes**t over Mueller. On the one hand, we have Spanky supporter Alex Jones inciting violence against Mueller for….what? Investigating their beloved Dumb Leader? The cons have completely lost their minds. Puppy’s love to scratch and dig: You will have to make sure he cannot dig under fencing, taking precautions to maybe bury chicken wire a couple of feet deep just in case. And you will have to guard off any plants, flower beds or anything else you’d like to keep from being dug up. Regardless of the reason, you probably want to know how to get your dog to stop chewing everything in sight. The best solution is to first signal to your puppy through a firm command that her behavior is not appropriate, and then to give her something nice to chew on instead of your sofa—a bone or chew toy ought to do the trick. Housetraining and chewtoy-training will be quick and easy if you adhere to the puppy confinement plan above, which prevents the puppy from making mistakes and prompts the puppy to teach herself household etiquette. If you vary from the program, you will likely experience problems. Unless you enjoy problems, you must reprimand yourself for any mistakes you allow your puppy to make. Sheba more… Related articles Why you’ll love it: The Fresh Patch Disposable Dog Potty is made with hydroponically grown grass and a 100% recyclable cardboard tray to attract your puppy and absorb pee quickly. house training an older dog | Puppy Training Session: Stop Running Away and Stopping Other Unwanted Habits house training an older dog | How to Train your Puppy to Stop Biting house training an older dog | 6 Dog Training Questions YOU Probably Don’t Know the Answer to… Legal | Sitemap

[euroman1945-blog]

The Daily Tulip

The Daily Tulip – Archeological News From Around The World

Friday 3rd August 2018

Good Morning Gentle Reader….  The end of the working week has arrived, not that my life changes much one day to another, I still have copy to write, things to post and Bella to share time with, like right now, having come back from a pleasurable walk under a heaven full of stars, she has her head firmly on my foot, and I am enjoying the moment.. Coffee is steaming in the mug, and thoughts are running rampant about the news of things discovered.. I often wonder how they got lost in the first place, a building or a sword is not like our car keys or glasses, but lost they have been, lost is to you and me, and I tend to think Mother nature covers things up to protect rather than have them damaged by people who don’t care….

WILDFIRE REVEALED HUNDREDS OF SITES IN CANADA…. ALBERTA, CANADA—CBC News reports that a wildfire that burned about 50 percent of the ground cover in Waterton Lakes National Park last year has revealed more than 250 Blackfoot camps and foot trails dating back some 7,000 years. “We’re finding so much that we’re starting to rewrite what we thought we knew about Waterton history and indigenous camp history,” said archaeologist Bill Perry of Parks Canada. Flakes from the production of stone tools, arrowheads, projectile points, and bison remains have been found, in addition to artifacts dating to the time of European contact, such as glass trading beads. A Depression-era work camp has also come to light in the park. Rock foundations, cans for tobacco and evaporated and condensed milk, a metal sewing needle case, a Boy Scout pin, and a cold cream jar are among the artifacts recovered at the site

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROCKETS UNEARTHED IN INDIA…. SHIMOGA, INDIA—According to an AFP report, a stockpile of more than 1,000 corroded eighteenth-century rockets has been found in an abandoned well in southern India. State assistant director of archaeology R. Shejeshwara Nayaka said the weapons, known as Mysorean rockets, were cylindrical iron tubes that contained propellant and black powder, and were developed by Tipu Sultan, ruler of the Kingdom of Mysore. This cache of weapons is thought to have belonged to Tipu Sultan himself, who was killed in 1799 during the Fourth Anglo-Mysore War while fighting against the British East India Company. “Digging of the dry well where its mud was smelling like gunpowder led to the discovery of the rockets and shells in a pile,” Nayaka said. Tipu Sultan’s rockets are said to have been the first weapon of their kind, and to have influenced the development of the Congreve rocket, which was employed by the British during the Napoleonic Wars.

ROOF OF THRACIAN TOMB UNCOVERED IN BULGARIA…. PLOVDIV, BULGARIA—Archaeology in Bulgaria reports that archaeologists led by Kostadin Kisyov of the Plovdiv Museum of Archaeology have discovered the roof of a monumental tomb in southern Bulgaria. Based upon the style of architecture, coins, and pottery found around the tomb, scientists have dated the burial to the third century A.D. The tomb sits within the Maltepe burial mound, which stood about 90 feet tall, and is said to be the largest ancient Thracian burial mound in the Balkan Peninsula. The top of the structure was found about 16 feet under the crest of the mound. Large stone blocks on the roof are thought to have supported a statue of the Thracian aristocrat resting inside the grave. “We are still at the beginning [of the tomb’s excavation],” said Kisyov. “Right now, we are on the roof of the tomb which has been partly destroyed by treasure hunters’ digging.” Scans of the tomb suggest it is similar to one discovered in the ancient city of Viminacium. That tomb is thought to have belonged to the emperor Marcus Aurelius Carinus, who reigned over Rome from A.D. 283 to 285.

HEAT WAVE EXPOSES HISTORIC GARDENS AT STATELY ENGLISH HOME…. DERBYSHIRE, ENGLAND—BBC News reports that the recent heat wave has revealed the plan of the historic gardens at Chatsworth House, which was built in the mid-sixteenth century on the River Derwent in central England as the seat of the Duke of Devonshire. The ornate flower beds and paths, seen as outlines in the scorched modern lawns, were planted in the late seventeenth century over an area of 105 acres. “It wasn’t a lost landscape or anything—we knew it was there,” said Steve Porter, head of gardens. “But the fact is, it’s normally a green lawn so everything is hidden underneath so it’s not visible.”

MAYA CAVE PAINTINGS DISCOVERED IN MEXICO…. MERIDA, MEXICO—Researchers led by archaeologist Sergio Grosjean Abimerhi of the Mexican Institute of Ecology, Science, and Culture have discovered Maya paintings of birds, mammals, a cross, geometric figures, people, and hands covering a 49-foot-long section of cave wall in eastern Yucatán, according to a report in The Latin American Herald Tribune. The cave also contains a small sinkhole full of water. Experts from the National Institute of Anthropology and History will travel to the cave to assist with recording, dating, and interpreting the images. “Right now we’re unable to reveal the exact location, because unfortunately in the Yucatán, the looters and vandals are always a step ahead of us,” Grosjean said.

COLONIAL-ERA ARTIFACTS UNCOVERED IN MICHIGAN…. MACKINAW CITY, MICHIGAN—According to a Michigan Live report, a collection of trade goods and other artifacts has been uncovered in the root cellar of a row house in Colonial Michilimackinac, the site of a fort and trading post built in the eighteenth century by the French on the Straits of Mackinac. Most of the items, which include a large fishhook, a silver brooch, a brass button, fragments of about half of a creamware plate and part of a saucer, date to the period of British occupation of the fort, between 1760 and 1770. Archaeologist Lynn Evans said the team of excavators also uncovered a Catlinite MicMac pipe. A reed would have been inserted into the stone bowl of such three-part pipes, which were used by Native Americans and some French Canadians. A French military button, parts of a bone-handled table knife, and the brass ramrod pipe to a gun have also been recently unearthed.

Well Gentle Reader I hope you enjoyed our look at the archeological news from around the world this, morning… …it’s amazing what is just under our feet…..

Our Tulips today are just a little like modern art...it makes you think...

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Friday 3rd August 2018 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus

[ramialkarmi]

This 27-year-old ex-Facebook engineer invented a super popular way to protect Mac PCs from hackers without Apple's help

A tiny security startup called Kolide is starting to make waves within the computer security world.

It was launched by the folks who developed a popular project inside Facebook that helps protect Macs, Windows and Linux computers from hackers.

Apple was polite but uninterested in his work at first. But now some security pros inside Apple are starting to take notice

A tiny security startup called Kolide is starting to make waves within the computer security world.

It helps businesses dive into the guts of their employees' Macintosh computers to find all the sketchy things a hacker could use to break into a corporate network.

Kolide is on the radar because its 27-year-old founder CTO, Mike Arpaia, created a popular open source project at Facebook called osquery. 

In just four years, osquery has grown to become a hugely popular security project used by companies like Dropbox, Stripe, Palantir, Heroku, Airbnb, Yahoo and others.

Arpaia's career illustrates that the single most important thing you can to do for your career is to believe in your own ideas, advocate for them and reach out to other for help.

Landing at Facebook

Arpaia's first job after college was for a New York security company doing "penetration tests." That's when a company hires security consultants to try and break into their networks to test their security. (This type of work is often the subject of movies, like the 1992 classic hacker movie "Sneakers.")

"I would suggest all these things that these companies should do to improve," he said. "You'd go there the next year and they hadn't done any of the things you suggested and you keep finding the same bugs over and over."

That sense of fruitlessness has powered him ever since.

He got poached by Zane Lackey to work at Etsy. (Lackey has since gone on to found his own security startup Signal Sciences). At Etsy, Arpaia worked on a system that detects when hackers are trying to break in.

The homegrown intrusion detection system gained the attention of some Facebook engineers and that's how Arpaia met his next boss, Joren McReynolds, the guy leading the Facebook team.

Arpaia called McReynolds and told him, "What I built at Etsy is cool, but I have an idea for something even cooler and I want to build it at Facebook."

McReynolds was game to hire him but first Arpaia had to pass Facebook's grueling interview process: weeks of interviews and infamous whiteboard tests, which means demonstrating a solution to difficult engineering problem on the spot, writing it on a whiteboard.

He happened to be good at whiteboard tests and he prepped for the rest by learning all about the people interviewing him. "I had a sheet on each person," he recalls.

He landed the job and he immediately told his new boss, "I'm going to have a lot of schemes and I'm going to pitch them to you," he said. "And I have an idea."

It was a crazy, even grandiose plan. He wanted to write a new computer programming language that would allow security pros to ask the operating system questions, the same way a database administration could query a database.

They could ask what applications were installed and when, if any of those apps had tinkered with the operating system settings, and so on.

There were tons of tools that could answer such questions for Windows, thanks to Microsoft's popularity with businesses and IT departments. But not much for Macs and Linux, two operating systems heavily used at Facebook and other big internet companies. 

McReynolds agreed to let him try and this became osquery. "I often attribute the existence of osquery to Joran and the general Facebook culture of, 'yeah, that's pretty out there, but give it a go, see what you can do," Arpaia says.

It also helped that there were numerous engineer teams at Facebook also writing their own complex tools, and one of them suggested that Arpaia short-cut his work by using a popular open source database called SQLite.

SQLite is one of those rare open source projects that secretly runs the world, but is written and managed pretty much by one guy, Dwayne Richard Hipp. Hipp noticed that all of a sudden, Facebook was using a little-known feature of his project, and he reached out and offered to help Arpaia. 

And things took off from there.

Within eight months, Facebook was not only running osquery internally to investigate the health of internal PCs and servers, but had released the osquery to the world as an open-source project, free for anyone to use and improve. 

Not for Apple

Creating something new is one thing. Getting a lot security people to use it is something else. So Arpaia and his osquery team went on a roadshow in the Valley, showing it off to other big companies, including Apple.

With Apple's enormous installation of Macs, Arpaia thought that those folks would love osquery and it would spread like wildfire inside the company like it had at Facebook.

But it didn't.

"They were genuinely nice folks. but it's a complex company with a lot of competing priorities," Arpaia remembers of the meeting.

It turns out that Apple's decentralized, secretive nature meant that engineers tended to work in pockets and silos. They didn't easily share and spread cool new software tools like they did at Facebook or Google. 

Apple's stamp of approval or not, osquery did take off, and today dozens of big companies use it and hundreds of developers contribute to it.

Another big idea

Arpaia now had another grand idea: to create a cloud service based on osquery that would let any company automate the work of protecting its Macs. He envisioned a cloud service that did for a firm's PCs what he used to do in those penetration tests in his first job.

On top of that, life in Silicon Valley was getting old, he said.

He wanted  to buy a house and spend more time climbing and skiing. He talked about his ideas to one of his buddies who had left Facebook to go out on his own, Zachary Wasserman, and they decided to fire up their own startup. 

They met Jason Meller, an exec from security company FireEye, who signed on as the cofounding CEO and they've since landed just under $10 million of VC funding.

And Arpaia moved to Boulder, Colorado.

In the spring of 2018, Kolide released its first cloud product, which focuses on Macs, although it will eventually support other operating systems, like Windows and Linux, he said. A security pro uses it to scan the computer the way a hacker would, finding holes.

Given the popularity of osquery, Kolide instantly signed up about 100 companies. "We already have a bunch of customers who have already rolled it out to 100% of their workstations," he said.

It has spread by word of mouth so far. The security pros try it on their own Macs, gets shocked by the stuff it finds even though they are security conscience and wonder what the heck it will find on employees' computers. 

Kolide also now employs about a dozen people, all working remotely.

And the mighty Apple has started to take notice. Kolide is sponsoring the first ever conference for osquery users in two weeks which sold out. And Apple will be sending a team of its security people to attend, schmooze and learn, Arpaia tells us.

SEE ALSO: Programmers are having a huge debate over whether they should be required to behave respectfully to each other

Join the conversation about this story »

NOW WATCH: Why you should never release your pet goldfish into the wild

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In my experience and research, I've found that viral marketing can be a positive or negative advertising method. Some companies use it correctly while others let campaigns turn negative and spiral out of control. And some people believe that viral marketing campaigns are so expensive that only big companies can implement them on larger scales. This, however, is entirely untrue as viral marketing can work for any size business. This article will define viral marketing, describe how it works, and discuss examples and strategies for small businesses.

The specific definition of viral marketing differs from person to person. However, everyone generally agrees that viral marketing is an advertising method that gets customers to market your products and services for you. More specifically, I would say that it's an advertising method that capitalizes on humanity's predisposition to share ideas, make new connections, and, of course, get free stuff.

When Does Viral Marketing Work Best?

Viral marketing is a touchy advertising method. Use it at the right times with the right products and your name can spread like wildfire. However, employ it incorrectly and you could see some very negative results. Viral marketing works best when a product or service is easy to use, easy to explain, has a low level of commitment, and is generally seen as "cool" in your customers' eyes. Let's look at these characteristics in order:

Easy to use - Because you are having your own customers do the marketing for you, it is preferable that their experience with the product is positive. If it's difficult to use and they dislike the product, why would they refer it to a friend?

Easy to explain - Your product needs to be simple - that is, people can quickly share it without being bogged down by details. Ever wonder why those videos on file sharing websites get passed around the Internet so quickly? All you have to do is tell a friend about a great video on the Internet and give them the link. It's simple with no explanation.

Low Level of Commitment - Finally, your product must have a low level of commitment. A friend once wanted me to sign up for one of those Internet pyramid schemes that offer a free IPOD or flat panel TV if you get 10 people to join a program. If you actually follow through with one of these things, it takes about 30 minutes to sign up because you have to give endless amounts of information, uncheck every free email box, and finally sell your soul. No one in their right mind would do this more than once.

General Coolness Factor - It's obvious that people only want to talk about the most exciting products they use. No one walks up to a friend and describes the latest underwear they've bought. Instead, they describe their new cell phone, poster, CD, or book. If your product is cool, people will talk about it. And in most cases, the "coolness factor" can be changed based on how you position the product in your customers' minds. In other words, it's all based on the advertising that goes along with it.

Viral Marketing - The Distant Cousin of Buzz Marketing

So we've established that a product itself can bring about a viral result if it has the four characteristics. But viral marketing can still work for products that do not meet these criteria if you can generate an adequate buzz for them. Buzz marketing is generated from catchy advertising and works when your customers talk about your product in day-to-day conversation.

In recent years, buzz marketing has worked for companies like Volkswagen and Burger King. However, I'm saying that buzz marketing has worked for these companies - not viral marketing. Buzz marketing all too often generates hype about the ad campaigns that feature the product and not the product itself. Sometimes this can be negative and divert attention away from your product. Although some would argue that Crispin Porter's attempt at targeting VW enthusiasts' hearts was genuine when they came out with the "MyFast" and the "Unpimp" commercials, they do not make me want to buy a VW - an item that definitely falls outside of the four criteria.

Sure you can have catchy advertising, but make sure it's advertising that focuses on product. Buzz marketing is more of an awareness campaign. And in my experience, small businesses need to see a return on their advertising investments - they can't afford to just promote awareness of their products. You can't just produce a buzz-worthy campaign that people will forget the second the advertisements come down. The goal is to get the product in peoples' hands for the viral effect to occur.

Can Viral Marketing Work Offline? And for a Small Business?

Sure it can. I'm sure you've read viral marketing success stories involving Hotmail, NetZero, Skype, and even the comedian Dane Cook who used MySpace.com for his viral marketing campaign. This might get a lot of people thinking that they need large scale campaigns that utilize websites, emails, and constant updates to online material. But there's one great example I'd like to share with you where a business employed a viral marketing campaign without much use of the internet and on a very small scale.

A local gym that I once went to had a great idea to hand out free t-shirts if members signed up for their "Guests First" program. They stopped everyone at the door, handed them a t-shirt, and told them that they could get a free guest pass every time they wore the shirt to the gym (the shirt had the gym's logo and location on it). To sign up, the members only had to verify the information they gave when they first became a gym member. It was a win-win for customers. Everyone started wearing the t-shirts and the guest passes started flying. Whenever a guest came in, they had to give their name and email address to the front desk. Later, an email would be sent to the guest to gauge their satisfaction with the gym. It also acted as a follow-up contact to the guest. This was, by far, the most intelligent and well thought out marketing scheme I had ever seen. The gym built a database of new potential customers, generated hype about the guest passes in town, put walking advertisements out on the street, and, in the end, got more people in the gym. And it was all done on a small scale.

Would Viral Marketing Work for Your Business?

As I said before, there are times when viral marketing works and times when it doesn't. You really need to take a close look at your products and the behavior of your customers to see if it's right for your business.

Products - Take one of your cheap, low cost, low involvement products and start handing it out for free. If you are a service-based business, start offering free trials of your low cost services. Start advertisements about the giveaways to get more people in your place of business. Be humorous and ironic - it tends to work better with viral marketing campaigns. If the products and services get high visibility, you will see a more viral effect. Even if you only carry expensive products that get low visibility, research on the internet or spy on competitors to see what types of giveaway items have worked for other businesses. Remember, choose something that people will always see or have a use for and associate it with your brand and business.

Customer Behavior - A successful viral marketing campaign also relies on the behavior of your customers. You need customers who are outgoing, friendly, and lead an active lifestyle. The more people that surround your customer, the more impressions your viral marketing tool will have. Remember, viral marketing, or any advertising, works best when you can achieve multiple impressions with the least amount of effort. The last person you want to test viral marketing on is some recluse that sits inside eighteen hours a day and emerges only to restock the fridge and drive to work. It's about getting your customers to do the work for you and advertising is all about visibility. It only makes sense that you need a highly visible customer base to do this type of advertising.

Go Out and Do It!

Viral marketing can work for almost any business. You know your business and customers the best. Set aside some time in the next few weeks to try and think of some great viral marketing tactics that you can employ. If you think the risk is too great, start small to test the water.

Every business has customers. Few businesses have fans. The trick is turning your customers into loyal fans. Then you will be surprised at just how easy viral marketing really is.

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