#capitalism saying you can’t be trusted if you don’t have any debt

[reasonandempathy]

The weird radical/revolutionary politic larpers on this site are so allergic to political pragmatism I swear lmao. I am definitely left of the Democratic Party and I am certainly voting for Joe Biden in November. Not because I like him (I don’t). He is absolutely horrific on Gaza and that’s only the top (and priority considering there is a genocide going on there) of a list of complaints I have about him. I even voted uncommitted in my state’s presidential primary (the Pennsylvania one; I had to write it in) to protest. However, I’m still thinking pragmatically. Trump has said things that make me credibly think he will be worse on Gaza (insane that being worse on Gaza than Biden is possible but it is unfortunately), and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Project 2025, the potential for him to appoint more deeply conservative justices, more of his aggressively screwing over poor and middle class people with his tax policies. And does anyone else remember the spike in hate crimes after the race was called for him in 2016? Before he was even inaugurated? Whether people vote or not in November we will still have to deal with one of these two men in office come January unless all of the internet ancom larpers overthrow the government by then (doubt), so I’d rather deal with the one who will be marginally less bad and who didn’t try to overthrow the government. Can’t have your revolution if nobody’s alive cause you kept pushing off politically participating because there was no perfect option. 👍

Political pragmatist anon, sorry for ranting in your askbox but I feel like I lose brain cells watching these people talk. The other day I saw someone say Biden is bad because Roe v. Wade fell under his administration… even though the reason for that was Trump appointed justices. 💀 (2/2)

Fucking insane. Sincerely.

It's a completely, flatly binary choice for anyone with a brain stem and sincerity. It's distilled into the two below images:

Where all major third party candidates are even on the ballot

How many electoral votes the largest of those (green party, a.k.a. Jill Stein) would win if they won every single state they're on the ballot for.

They are literally, legally, incapable of winning the election. They are not on enough state ballots to win and Jill Stein would need to somehow win California and Texas to even "win" all the states they're on the ballot for. Which, again, would still not be enough to win the presidency and throw it to the currently existing Republican House of Representatives. Which would put Trump in office.

It's that straightforward. That simple. That BLARINGLY obvious to literally everyone except these people.

On the one hand you have:

Significant and continuous support for Israel and it's genocide

Record levels of pardons for low-level drug offenses

the gearing up of the strongest anti-trust regime since the early 20th century

the most aggressive NLRB I've seen in my lifetime, with massive wins and institutional changes to help workers

Including getting Rail strike workers a week of sick-leave that gets paid out at the end of the year, which is better than NYC and LA sick leave laws

Millions of people (not enough) getting student debt forgiveness

Some trillion dollars (not enough)of investment in renewable resources and infrastructure

Proposed taxes on unrealized capital gains (a.k.a. how billionaires never have any money but can still buy Kentucky, Iowa, and Twitter)

Effectively an end to overdraft fees

The explicit support of leftist world leaders like Lula de Silva. Who he has explicitly worked with to expand worker rights in South America.

Has capped (some, not enough, only a tiny amount really but it's something) some drug prices, including Insulin.

Reduced disability discrimination in medical treatment

Billions in additional national pre-k funding

Ending federal use of private prisons

Pushing bills to raise Social Security tax thresholds higher to help secure the General Fund

Increasing SSI benefits

and more

vs

Said Israel should just nuke Gaza and "get it over with"

Personally takes pride in and credit for getting Roe v Wade overturned

Is arguing in court that the President should be allowed to assassinate political rivals

Muslim Ban Bullshit, insistently

Actively damages our global standing and diplomatic efforts just by getting obsessed with having a Big Button

Implemented massive tax cuts on ich people, tax hikes on middle class and poor people, and actively wants to do it again

"Only wants to be a dictator for a little bit, guys, what's the big deal"

Is loudly publicly arguing that the US shouldn't honor its military alliances after-the-fact

Tore up an effective and substantial anti-nuclear-proliferation treaty with Iran

Had a DoEd that actively just refused to process student debt forgiveness applications that have been the law of the land for decades now

Has a long record of actively curtailing and weakening the NLRB and labor movement, including allowing managers to retaliate against workers, weakened workplace accommodation requirements for disabled people, and more

Rubber stamped a number of massive mergers building larger, more powerful top companies and increasing monopolistic practices

Fucking COVID Bullshit and hundreds of thousands of unnecessary deaths

Openly supporting fascists and wannabe-bootlicks ("Very fine people" being only the beginning of it

It's really not fucking close.

#biden #trump #gaza #palestine #politics #original content #union rights #realism #2024 election #jill stein #rfk jr #cornell west

[itsbenedict]

The Flood is a tabletop game by Jenna Moran about poetry mutilation and farmland financialization. Last August, Farn, Zero and I all played it. These are the results:

Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein (maimed by me)

There is a place where sidewalk ends And right before the long street bends, And there the grass grows soft for friends, As under sun the road it wends And there the moon-bird rests from flight To cool in the peppermint night. Let’s leave this place where smoke blows white And dark streets wind away from sight. Yes, Ickle, Pickle, Tickle Too Go o’er sidewalk with flying shoe. “Hooray! What fun! It’s time we flew!” Say each and every -Ickle Too And Captain Ick drives Pick down streets While Tick cooks stews with beans and beets And higher, higher, in their seats Ick Pick and Tick chase sidewalk’s sweets. Past pits where asphalt flowers grow We walk a walk measured and slow, And watch where chalk-white arrows go To reach where sidewalk dare not flow. Yes, walk a walk measured and slow, And go where chalk-white arrows go, For children mark, and children know Where sidewalk ends, it ends fo’ sho’.

Question, by May Swenson (vivisected by @eternalfarnham)

Body my house my horse my spouse How will I rouse when you are soused Where will I sleep What tea will I steep What prey, like sheep Upon shall I leap Where can I go With my to all fro too late for the show How will I know in thicket ahead If my genes will spread when Body my shed- raised dog is dead How will it be to lie fancy free without cash to buy A house in Mai Lai With cloud for shift how will I grift? Body, mortgaged horse and house And rouses GDP from the thicket How can I rest? I’ll sell my shed-raised dog And we all lie fancy free in Mai Lai To profit without needing any grift But how am I meant to grift When I own such a profitable house, Comparable to a timeshare in Mai Lai And bring with them a faithful little dog Called Body to investigate thickets? Your wallet will ever be thick. It Will let you achieve results without grift Your investors? Like sheep. Just trust me, dog, Your body, like a temple, but, a house On such a venture? You can’t let this lie! But if you don’t want Mai Lai Or to eval treasures in the thicket, Away this deal, then turn to theft and grift Then let the cops slam you in the big house Where you’ll be eaten by a faithful dog. In this race I have no dog. Do I seem like the kind of girl to lie? If so, I’ll return to my giant house, Because I left you in the cruel thicket, And need therapy. But my guy has grift And back the world’s most profitable dog: The body of this poem is no grift. You can’t let this venture eternal lie As if dead, never roused from the thicket. You’ll thank me when you beat the gambling house. A thicket fit for capital’s running-dogs, In you I lie, and profit without grift.

untitled, by @cloakofshadow (grievously injured by Zerovirus)

The world was born in flame and gold, By decree of realm’s supreme, Fresh and free of painful earthly debts. You would not dare the market break, The world was born- then torn and sold, Creation’s value pierced the sky It pleases you to buy and buy and buy To know all things would surely grow in price. A thousand graphs housing bearish prices, That quaver tracking values of soft gold, Merchants follow but one goal supreme, Flee from spectres, shadows of your true debt. All souls are born in void, and break, So why not make some cash when they get sold Souls born in an empty void-like sky Know nothing but that they must buy buy buy. And all their reason works to buy Lights that cast no shadows but for price, Each night ursines fight for flecks of gold, Strive and strife and prove themselves supreme. Constant siblings are their death and debt, Each others’s skulls they crack and fiercely break. No use for pebbles that you cannot sell, No need for solid stone beneath the sky. And even you, who seeks the sky You would not dare not to buy; You’ve made the grave your lordly price And drawn all warmth from hoarded gold Atop which you take repose supreme Lest ye be taken by the cursed debt You fear to burn but shall be pleased to break What you hold but know can never sell. An empty place beside the antiques sold Rich linens shipped across the distant sky My lord has said, you shall not buy, You shall not spend, you shall not price, You shall be bold and uphold gold, You shall not fear the doom of debt, You shall fund the one true high supreme, Your assets shall not break. But wake again when you are broke, I make to you a flaming sell- And swear on god who rests in sky, That your name she sure shall buy, And till she returns next with a price, To labor for your pile of gold. Worry not about your debts, But sing praise towards the supreme. This world of gold that does not bend or break Where souls are sold and take with joy to sky The will of god is buy at any price! Debt is frail; your wealth shall reach supremes.

Apologies to the artists involved, but we did survive the Flood and made upwards of thirty three thousand imaginary dollars.

#poetry #(technically) #the flood #jenna moran

[ifgusa]

Florida Factoring Company Accounts Receivable Factoring

Naturally, many agriculture companies compete to develop and distribute Florida’s finest. The unlucky reality, however, is that prospects don’t always pay on time. If they can’t pay you for that last cargo of oranges, your business suffers. We buy your invoices so as to use the money from invoices immediately, rather than waiting for patrons to pay. The flexibility of payroll funding lets you sell your invoices for money if you want it instead of ready for a scheduled disbursement or having to price range the full balance of a mortgage up-front.

They had been in a place to start new tasks and not stress over assembly their bi-weekly payroll. 1st Commercial Credit provides credit score services for consumers that need to increase cost terms to suppliers. A commerce payable platform for suppliers and buyers to approve and pay invoices on-line with optionally available early payment discounts. Before you determine if we're the proper factoring company for you, allow us to tell you a little about us and how we stand above the opposite factoring companies. If your answer is sure then our factoring programs definitely might help you land that buyer. We know that increasingly today your clients are stretching funds, some because they'll, others as a outcome of they are struggling.

That signifies that doing business with components, quick pays, and even banks requires real-world, fine-print data. Mike Thrasher, Chief Sales Officer for Apex Capital, brings 20 years of expertise in sales. He understands the funding issues many startups and small-to-medium dimension trucking companies face. He shares invaluable tips about utilizing a factoring company as a trusted associate. This blog is the seventh in a collection with Apex Experts sharing their industry knowledge. As one of the most populated metropolitan areas within the US, Miami-Dade hosts many transportation gear companies to service the large demand for numerous modes of transportation in the space.

There are not any minimums or maximums that you want to meet to factor your payroll, and no long-term contracts – so you presumably can finance your payroll for under so long as you need. In addition, most factoring companies provide florida factoring companies back-office assist for collections and credit score verification so you will get one of the best worth on your money. Only a handful of accounts receivable factoring companies can say that.

Accounts receivables are turned from aggravating purple figures in the accounting ledger into liquid-capital through factoring. For these causes and more, companies have turned to much less regulated avenues to obtain small business financing. Accounts receivable factoring is a way small companies with flawed credit score scores can get money when they want it. Invoice factoring services will typically value greater than a small business mortgage. Factoring companies work with larger risk clients and supply extra latitude concerning which companies they supply financing to. They often provide their services to companies which may be turned down by banks.

You get instant working capital and avoid debt without worrying about credit score historical past. We are a service oriented bill factoring firm serving all of Florida from Tallahassee to Jacksonville to Miami and beyond. All of our clients are paired with a Relationship Manager acquainted factoring companies florida with their business who will be your primary level of contact at our firm. We’re not a quantity purchaser and each potential client and their customers are always handled with white gloves.

As with any financing settlement, you pay pursuits and charges that are added to the month-to-month payments. Equipment leasing can generally be a bit more expensive than buying equipment. Still, many instances is the better option for cash-strapped small business homeowners, because it presents a way to access the mandatory tools without a lot upfront money. Leasing offers benefits that owning doesn't, for instance, low month-to-month payments, sometimes unfold out over a few months or years quite than delivered in a big sum.

We present funding for all major cities in Florida together with Orlando, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, and Jacksonville. 1st Commercial Credit factors invoices for Florida and all of its most popular industries. Florida is a state that continues to develop and is attracting many new and established businesses to start out or relocate there.

Our  factoring companies may be an unmeasurable asset to your corporation. Skip the months-long ready sport for your outstanding invoices and get a dependable cash advance from Porter Capital! Our staff presents funding solutions to help your business’s short- and long-term goals. With factored invoices, watch your business factoring companies florida develop right into a fierce competitor in your trade. So how does a Floridian accounts receivable financing company know it'll receives a commission back? It performs a credit verify on trucking company’s shopper, verifies the validity of the invoice, and appears at the company’s historical past of paying its bills.

The agency landed a $1,200,000 contract with the City of Houston but wanted a large money infusion for upfront prices. Due to COVID-19 and the quantity required, their current financing firm was not able to provide funding. They additionally took comfort in the fact that CapitalPlus’ lien compliance ensured all subs and distributors had been paid and signed lien waivers. Factoring enabled them to spend one hundred pc of their time focused on their project and not worrying about back-office stress. We’re thrilled to use our trade experience and numerous financing options that will help you succeed and grow. Take a look at how our options have helped hundreds of different business construction companies like yours.

[an-anticlimactic-bass-drop]

Tall

Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing. 

Tech X Reader

Slow Burn/ Angst

Warnings: Mild 1.10 Spoilers

Word Count: 1.5K

Part 1/?

This was 100% inspired by this gif from episode 7 of Tech under the main control desk.

You enter the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder late at night slowly and quietly as you try not to disturb the tall man who is working on the wires under the main panel. 

“Tech?” you call softly to him when he doesn’t notice you. 

He abruptly sits up hitting his head on the underside of the panel and laying back down quickly with a loud thunk. 

“Well that was unpleasant.” he says with a grimace of pain as he leans out from under the panel. You try to not look worried when he rubs his head where he had hit it on the panel. 

 “Is there something you need?”

 “Sorry! I just couldn’t sleep. Figured you were still up here.”

 He nods slowly as he leans back down to continue working on the wires. 

“Do not mind me. I am upgrading the general security system of the outer walls. The door has been slow to close recently and I am trying to fix the timing. Feel free to sit in here as long as you want. I could use the company.” 

He becomes absorbed back into his project as the time passes. Mindlessly chatting about the upgrades he's making and the general gossip of the other men and Omega. It is mostly you gossiping honestly. Tech isn’t the biggest gossip in the world but he listens like every detail you talk about is the most important and interesting information he has ever heard. 

“I’m pretty sure Omega thinks we don’t notice when she borrows our blacks to sleep in. I swear every time I turn around I’m missing another shirt out of my basket. I think it must be a comfort thing.” you say with a yawn as you fight back the call of sleep. Tech’s presence is a calming one and you love hearing him talk. He is your favorite of the bad batch and you might have a small crush on him but you would never admit it to him. He is your best friend. Tech nods absently as he pulls another wire from under the panel. 

“I have noticed mine disappearing too but I assumed Echo was doing laundry and got them mixed up with Hunter’s again.” he says slowly. His goggled eyes glance towards you with mirth in his eyes at the joke.

 “If Echo is confusing your black’s with Hunter’s then he really must be bad at laundry. You have at least 5 inches on him and your blacks are much bigger. At least he doesn’t think they are Wrecker’s.”  You chuckle sleepily at the thought. 

Tech crawls slowly out from under the panel, making sure not to hit his head again, apparently done with his upgrades. “I think it is time for you to go to sleep,” he says with a small smile in his voice. You don’t complain as he helps you stand and leads you towards the bunks where the rest of the crew is sleeping. 

“You need sleep too.” you protest as he turns to go back towards the cockpit. He smiles wryly at your pathetic attempts to chastise his insomniac tendencies. “I will be fine. Someone needs to stand guard until morning.” 

You wake up to the sounds of the rest of the Bad Batch moving around and packing up for the rest of the day. Hunter is passing out rations, Wrecker is curling Gonky like a barbell, Echo is slurping what is obviously his 2nd cup of caf of the morning, Omega is still curled up in her little corner with her clone trooper doll and Wrecker’s blacks on looking more like a night tent than a nightgown, and Tech is nowhere to be found but is more than likely in the cockpit still.

 “Any caf left?” you ask in Echo’s general direction. He grunts in the direction of the pot that still has ¾ of the brown liquid in it. You pour 2 cups of the precious drink and head towards the cockpit. Tech is absorbed in his datapad and again doesn’t hear you enter. You wait in the doorway and watch the tall man as he scrolls through the information he has been pouring over all night. The smell of the caf fills the cockpit. Tech sniffs the air and turns towards you as a smile appears on his face. 

“Is that for me?” he asks hopefully. You hand him the cup you prepared for him just the way he likes it. He smells the cup before he takes a sip. “It is perfect. Thank you.”

You fall into the co-pilot seat with your cup and start to examine the new security system that Tech spent the night working on.

  “Looks good to me! Anything I need to know before you all leave for your mission?” 

Tech starts explaining the broad strokes of the new system and how the upgrades make it easier to use. You nod along as you listen to the explanation. The men are headed out on another one of Cid’s bounties. This one is on Raxxus? You think. 

“Isn’t Raxxus the separatist capital? Why are you all headed there?” you ask slowly, not comprehending. 

“A job is a job. We must pay back our debts.” He’s doing the really cute finger thing he does when explaining things.

 Your heart melts at the gesture. He doesn’t realize how cute he is sometimes. Tech gives you a strange look as you realize you have been staring at him for a moment too long. 

“Hey Tech!” Hunter calls from the back of the ship. 

Tech stands up to head back towards the bunks where the other men are gathered around a map of some kind. He hits his head on the top of the doorway as he forgets to duck while walking through it.

  “OW”

 You stifle a laugh as he rubs his forehead and pushes through to the back of the ship. You can hear Echo making a crack at Tech’s mishap with a light laugh. 

“Watch out for the roof Tech. Your head might damage it if you aren’t careful.” 

That man is too tall for his own good. He towers over you when you stand next to him and you won’t deny it makes you feel things. You have had a crush on the nerdy clone pretty much since you joined the merry band of deserted clones. You joined in the aftermath of Order 66 with Omega from Kamino. You were her nanny and you gladly went with the clones when the imperials took over. You never quite trusted Palpatine when he was the Supreme Chancellor and you trusted him even less when he turned the clones against the Jedi and declared himself Emperor. The Bad Batch offered you freedom and you seized the opportunity. Shaking off the memories, you make your way back towards the back of the ship. Omega is awake now but is still sitting in her bunk. Her big eyes are blinking away sleep. You help her down and she immediately goes to stand next to the clone she has claimed as her makeshift father. Her nightshirt is almost dragging the ground with how long it is and you chuckle at the sight. Hunter gently pats her hair, mussed from sleep. Echo hands her a ration bar then turns back towards the map. Tech has an angry red mark on his forehead right above his glasses from where he hit the top of the doorway. 

“So what is the plan?” You ask as you look over the map. It appears to be a blueprint of the palace on Raxxus. Hunter starts explaining the mission in simple terms so that you can understand. Basically they need to rescue the senator from the Imperial clones. Omega and you are to stay on the ship and protect it from patrolling clones. Omega protests this as you frown at the idea. Hunter shuts down the complaints with a wave of his hand. 

“It is safer for you two to stay on the ship than risk losing you to the imperials” He says quietly. “I can’t lose you again.” he says to Omega as he bends down to her level, “This is the best option right now. We don’t know what we are walking into on this planet. We already have 2 at least bounty hunters after you and the last thing we need is the clones to find you too. We still don’t know where Crosshair is or if he is even alive after the last encounter. I can’t lose anymore of you.” 

He finishes slowly and turns back to the men gathered around the blueprints scattered on the table as he rises. Hunter nods to the others and they head towards the ramp. You gather Omega up in your arms and head up to the cockpit to watch as the men depart. She is not happy at the thought of being left behind and her big eyes are shining with anger and hurt. You hold her close as you watch the men disappear into the trees with the droid client. I hope they are going to be okay. You think to yourself.

#tech x reader #the bad batch #tech the bad batch #echo #hunter #wrecker #omega #tech is too tall for his own good #tech fic #tech is a gangly man and he doesn't know how to control his limbs #tech is 6'4 #hunter is a small man #omega steals the dad batch's clothes #she feels safe in them #slow burn #reader has a crush #reader is omega's nanny #first fic #wrecker's is her favorite because his is huge and it feels like she's surrounded #Hunter's smells the best to her tho #hunter is omega's dad #tech is a caf fiend #tech is reader's best friend

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Understanding the aftermath of r/wallstreetbets

A couple days back, I wrote up my best understanding of what happened with /r/wallstreetbets and meme stocks like Gamestop, trying to show how all the different, seemingly contradictory takes on the underlying financial stuff could all be true.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/28/payment-for-order-flow/#wallstreetbets

In the days since, a new series of contradictory takes has emerged, these ones disputing the meaning of this bizarre financial spectacle, and likewise what response, if any is warranted as it unfurls.

I think that all of these takes can also be true, and as with the trading itself, reconciling them requires that we widen the frame.

Let's start with Jimmy Carter.

In 1978, Carter's IRS created the 401(k), a tax-sheltered account for people who wanted to gamble on stocks to fund their retirement.

That was a fringe proposition at best.

The normal retirement system was a "defined benefits" pension where your employer guaranteed you a certain monthly percentage of your salary from retirement to death.

The vast majority of Americans wisely prefered a guaranteed payout to a tax-advantaged gambling account.

Obviously, right? On the one hand, you have the guarantee of a pension (maybe even inflation-indexed); on the other, you have a bunch of bets, that, if they go wrong, leave you literally homeless and starving.

When gamblers remortgage the family home and cash in the kids' college funds to play the tables, we consider them to have a mental illness, a pathological condition that harms them and the people around them.

Giving up a defined benefits pension in favor of a 401k is just the same kind of bet - staking all the money that will support you when you exit the workforce on the movement of stocks and bonds.

Who would do that voluntarily?

Pretty much no one. But the transition from defined benefits to 401k was not voluntary. Finance ghouls like Ethan Lipsig wrote memos to major employers like Hughes Aircraft showing them how they could ditch their pension obligations by moving workers to 401ks.

In the 80s, Reagan created a bunch of legal tools that allowed employers to coerce their workforces into giving up the security of a pension and force them into gambling their salaries on the prayer of a win in the markets.

This was insanely, amazingly great for the finance sector, in three ways:

1. It made companies more profitable. Guaranteeing that the workers whose labor made your company viable wouldn't spend their dotage starving and homeless is expensive.

Helping fund wagers on shares is much cheaper. The finance sector represented the major shareholders of the companies that transitioned to 401ks. The savings were transferred to these shareholders and the finance sector got commissions.

What's more, this temporary inflation of share prices disguised what was going on with the pension switcheroo: workers' defined benefits pensions were liquidated and turned into stocks, just as stocks were going up because their pensions had been liquidated!

Their legs had been amputated out from under them, but so subtly that they didn't yet feel the pain - and now their bosses cooked their legs and snuck them into their dinner, and everyone marveled at how full they felt after that hearty, meaty meal.

2. 401ks brought a lot of suckers to the table. The market was - and is - dominated by "sophisticated investors," AKA predators, who knew all the ways to fleece the rubes who had no idea how any of this worked.

The predatory nature of finance only increased over time. Hedge funds, for example, exist to find unethical practices that are legal (thanks to loopholes in the rules) and exploit them until they are illegal.

3. 401ks created a political force outside the finance sector that would lobby on its behalf. Transforming America into a nation of stockholders meant that workers had to choose between supporting rules that protected their jobs and rules that protected their retirement.

For your pension account to grow, you had to support policies that permitted finance ghouls to offshore your job, or misclassify you as a contractor, or eliminate the safety rules that prevented you from being maimed, or take away your right to sue for compensation.

Every time there's a particularly ghastly bankruptcy driven by PE or hedge funds - Toys R Us, Sears, etc - it emerges that at least some of that money is coming out of a union pension fund.

That's marketization - turning the once obscure, boring business of market-based capital allocation into a matter of import to everyday people.

Marketization begat financialization.

While marketization is primarily about capital allocation (who gets what money), financialization is about bets. Sometimes those bets are about things - businesses, houses, coal and timber - but things are limited. Mostly the financial market consists of bets on other bets.

Bets are infinite. Every time you make a bet, you create inventory for a market in a bet on the outcome of your bet. And that's inventory for a new market: bets on the outcomes of bets on the outcomes of bets.

It's called Wall Street Bets for a reason.

Bets need referees, someone who decides who the winner is. In sports, it's a major scandal if a referee is caught wagering on one of the teams in a match. In the financial markets, it's the norm - referees that lay wagers on the outcome of the contest they're overseeing.

Let's take stock:

Workers are forced to play the casino, and if their bets fail, they spend their old ages homeless and starving;

The vast majority of casino games are wholly abstract - bets on bets on bets - and require layers of refs;

the refs are all crooked.

Every couple of years, we have a massive, systemic financial crisis, and every time that happens, the finance sector lobbies for a no-strings-attached bailout, abetted by suckers who hate the finance sector but fear starving in their old age.

We're about to be engulfed in the second-largest crisis of our lifetime - the reckoning from trillions in capital market gains propped up by the Trump administration's policy of buying all corporate debt as a covid stimulus.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/28/cyberwar-tactics/#aligned-incentives

(the largest crisis of our lifetimes is a few years off, as the climate emergency piles losses on losses, stranding tens of trillions in assets, from fossil fuels to obsolete gas-stations to literally underwater coastal real-estate to whole towns incinerated by wildfires)

That's where we're at: a crooked casino that we've trusted our futures too, a crisis on the horizon, and a bunch meme-stock "players" who have thrown the normal weirdness of the market into stark relief through a spectacular stunt.

A lot of people are angry at Robinhood, the stock-trading platform at the center of all this. Robinhood froze trading on meme stocks, and has only allowed it to come back in a useless, performative trickle that is seemingly calculated to prevent more meme-stock gamesmanship.

Is Robinhood just another crooked ref? Yes…and no. The meme stock run upset the stable cheaters' equilibrium whereby cheating never escalated to the point where the game just collapsed.

For example, the total short position on Gamestop exceeds its total stock issuance.

Translation: there were more Gamestop shares promised between bettors than exist. When the game stops, all those promises come due, and they literally can't be paid off because there aren't enough tokens in circulation to settle all the debts.

Robinhood halted trading in part because the big fish upstream of Robinhood also halted trading, because they have even more at risk than Robinhood does if the game collapses - they the refs for MANY players, all the same size as Robinhood or larger.

https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2021-01-29/reddit-traders-on-robinhood-are-on-both-sides-of-gamestop

But remember, the refs are cheating. And they are both downstream and upstream from other games in which the refs are also cheating.

And the games, as a whole, encompass our economy, including the solvency of the "real economy" (the people who make masks, deliver groceries and drive ambulances), and whether you spend your old age homeless and starving.

So the people who say, "Don't blame Robinhood, they didn't halt trading to help billionaires, they halted trading to prevent the game from collapsing are right."

But they're not the only ones who are right.

Also, there's the people who say that meme stocks aren't making money for little guys at the expense of the big guys. They're right too.

First, because these stocks will all need to be converted to cash, and that means selling them.

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2021/01/the-gamestop-bubble-is-going-to-hurt-a-lot-of-ordinary-investors/

When the selloff starts, the price will plunge, because even if the stock was undervalued before, it's certainly overvalued now. Every bubble produces wealth for its early bettors who sell out to later players who lose everything when they can't find a sucker later on.

From Beanie Babies to subprime, bubbles burst and leave suckers holding the bag. If you just heard about meme stocks last week, you're too late to make money off of them.

There's another version of the "this isn't little guys, it's big whales" that's *also* true: the main beneficiary of the meme stock runs is giant funds who magnified and the bets from r/wallstreetbets and got out smart and fast.

https://twitter.com/zatapatique/status/1354904995901136896

So given all this, what can we make of calls (from parties as varied as AOC and Ted Cruz) to investigate Robinhood and other retail brokerages to see whether they're honest refs, or in the tank for billionaires?

At Naked Capitalism, Yves Smith calls this a "fatuous uproar," saying that the Senate has more important things to do during the racing-out-of-control pandemic than to investigate a literal penny-ante grift.

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2021/01/the-fatuous-uproar-about-robinhood-and-gamestop.html

Do we really care who the winner is in "a beauty contest between Cinderella’s ugly sisters" ("clueless new gen day traders versus clumsy shorts")?

Smith is right too.

A speculator-v-speculator contest that falls apart when the crooked ref halts play to prevent collapse - who cares who "wins?"

But here's how they can all be right - the "who cares" and the "goliath v goliath" and the "bubble" and the "Robinhood is a plutes' honeypot."

*If* there's hearings, and *if* those hearings expose the absurdity and corruption of the system, *then* there is a chance to build the political will to make real, systemic changes when the crisis comes.

And there's a real crisis coming: two, in fact. The covid junk bond financial crisis, which is due very soon, and the climate crisis stranded asset emergencies, which will unroll with increased tempo and intensity for decades to come.

The half-century cycle of "addressing" finance crises by increasing financialization MUST stop.

If the meme stock spectacle gets us to pay attention to hearings that reveal the irredeemable rot of the system, then it's a unique chance to spread *real* "financial literacy."

And that literacy is the necessary (but insufficient) precursor to taking action when the time comes - and the time is certainly coming soon.

#pluralistic

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXX

February 11, 2278.

Ten fifteen in the evening.

I loaded my shotgun and watched the rear, gunfire bursting as the tin cans yelled. This was supposed to be a stealth operation. If only DeLoria hadn’t tripped on that one guard…

Truth be told, this was an absolutely fucking stupid plan. Taking away a comatose patient from the Citadel isn’t the brightest idea DeLoria and I came up with, but we had no other choice. Whatever secret about Percy that Dr. Li wanted us to protect, it seemed important. Seeing how Lyons figured out that she’s a living atomic weapon, I understand her.

DeLoria looks goddamn constipated as he helped me push the gurney with my partner in tow, secured with leather straps so she wouldn’t fly off. In the front, Fawkes soaks up most of the damage.

Of course we had a Plan B if the stealthy approach didn’t work. Thank fuck Fawkes is willing to cooperate, too. This wasn’t the first time we worked together to help Percy out of the tight spot. Then again, Percy got us out of our predicaments first. Knowing her, when she wakes up, she’ll scold us for risking ourselves for her, and for coming up with this awful plan.

Too bad. She can’t stop us now.

“Charon, what now? I only brought a pistol,” Butch yelps, narrowly missing fire.

“We’re gonna let Fawkes soak up the brunt of the gunfire, and we keep pressing forward and watch his six,” I grunted in return.

“Shit, this is a bad idea man! What if they hit Percy?”

“That’s why we’re fucking here to shield her! Are you scared of a little gunfire, DeLoria?!”

The younger man gulped and kept pushing. Our group kept pushing forward, already at the courtyard. How we managed to pull this off is beyond me. I expected to be dead right now.

“Hold your fire!”

Whoever issued the command is old, judging from their voice. Almost immediately, the tin cans stopped shooting.

“Father, what’s the meaning of this?” a more feminine voice called out. “They’re kidnapping a comatose patient! An honorary member of the Lyons Pride! I-”

“Sarah, please, enough. I’ll talk to them,” the Elder says, emerging from the crowd.

Another one of the tin cans interrupts. “Elder, they let in a Super Mutant in Citadel grounds! We-”

The old man gives the soldier a stern gaze, and he backs off. Coming face to face with Fawkes, the elder looks up, a neutral expression on his face.

“Please explain the meaning of this.”

DeLoria rushes over from the rear, facing the old man. “We’re getting our friend out of here! Clearly you assholes haven’t been doing her any good, so we’re transferring her to another hospital.”

“Another hospital?” the younger Lyons interrupts. “Listen kid, the Citadel is one of the few places on the Wasteland equipped to handle Zhou’s injuries.” Armor clinking, she marches towards the greaser, a livid expression on her face.

“What makes you think that whatever ‘hospital’ you’ll be transferring her to is equipped to help her, huh?”

A shouting match erupts between those two. Before things get ugly, Elder Lyons intervenes again, placing himself in front of the greaser and his daughter. Grumbling, I reach out and pull DeLoria back.

“I’ll take it from here,” I griped, and shoved past Sarah Lyons. I came face to face with the Elder, and I folded my arms.

“Before she left, Dr. Li told us she doesn’t think that whatever tests you’re running on Percy isn’t for her best interests. Percy trusted that doctor, so I trust her.”

Blondie scoffs, about to go off on us again, but she stops in her tracks, looking at something, or someone, behind us.

“Then, why don’t you ask Zhou herself, if she wants to stay here or not?”

My eyes widen, and I turn around and see Percy, sitting up on the bed, her restraints loose. I checked again, and no, they weren’t loosened. They were pulled away from the bed, and she’s gripping the leather straps.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Percy,” I mumble, taking slow, tentative steps towards her.

She’s looking blankly ahead, eyes glassy. No. Oh no.

What the fuck is happening?

Rough and calloused, my fingers brush against her arm, and her eyes flick towards me. “Percy? Are you there?”

Letting go of the leather strap, her small hand grips mine, and she exhales sharply, panic rousing within her. Through her hospital gown, I see a sickly green glow pulsing below her throat, at her chest.

Barreling her way through, Sarah Lyons points a minigun at my partner, ready to fire.

“Everyone, get back! She’s going to blow!”

“No!” I screamed at her, and instinct kicking in, I scoop Percy’s frail body in my arms and started to run to the exit.

“Move, fucking move aside!”

My lungs are burning as I run through the Citadel gates, Percy still pressed to my chest, unnaturally warm to the touch. Fawkes is following closely behind, footsteps pounding.

Away from the people, I gently laid Percy to the ground, the green glow emanating from her searing now, and covered her body with mine. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go holding her.

Screwing my eyes shut, I wait for the inevitable.

Instead, I was pulled aside, and Fawkes crouches over Percy’s body, careful not to crush her.

A bright, blinding light flashes from Percy’s body, and Fawkes covers her completely. Her body erupts, heat and energy bursting outwards, and Fawkes just absorbed all that. I watched the explosion barely made a dent on the mutant’s thick skin, and the mushroom cloud that billows towards the dark sky.

He pulls back, and Percy lies there, hospital gown in tatters.

I rushed to her side, checking for breathing, and felt my heart drop as I heard none.

“We need a medic, get a medic!” I snarl at the bystanders who witnessed the entire ordeal. After the initial shock has worn off, DeLoria weaves through the crowd and runs towards us, kneeling beside Percy.

“Shit man, shit! She’s not breathing, she needs CPR, oh my fucking God I don’t remember how to do it,” he babbles, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

Gnashing my teeth, I try to remember whatever first aid I learned from observing Percy in the past. I pulled away Percy’s hospital gown, and with my palms together, I pressed between her nipples, pumping and hearing her ribs crack underneath her skin.

I tilt her head, pinch her nose, press my ruined lips against hers, and blow. Twice.

Then, I go back into giving her chest compressions, and I look over my shoulder. I must’ve looked so feral at that moment.

“Where the fuck’s that medic?!”

I turned back to my partner, and after another set of compressions, I breathed into her again.

“Percy, remember what you told me when you got captured by the Enclave, huh?!” I rasped, gritting my teeth.

“Well, it’s your goddamn turn to listen to me now!”

January 14, 2278.

Fingers clacking on the keyboard, Percy hacked away at the terminal. Once given access, she terminates the hostile creatures in the other holding cells. I wince as I watch one particularly screwed up creature burst into flame, high pitched, inhuman squeals coming out of its… mouth?

Jesus Christ. I don’t want to think about it, ugh.

Then, Percy selects another command in the console, and the doors hiss open.

My partner turned around, footsteps urgent, and I followed her closely behind. Fawkes emerges from his cell, carefully, like an animal let loose from a trap, and he turns to us, towering us both.

“Thank you,” he boomed, and though his voice sounded rough, I felt his gratitude for Percy. “As promised, I will retrieve the GECK for you. This is a debt I am most happy to pay, my friends. Follow me!”

Percy smiles and nods, and she turns to me, looking over her shoulder with a pleased expression.

“See Charon? He isn’t bad at all,” she starts, and I only grumble in response. Percy senses the apprehension that lingered in me, and chuckles.

“To be frank Charon, the first time I met you in Underworld, I might have felt the same thing,” she says, and I look down with a questioning look.

“Dad told me to judge other people by what they looked like, but even then, I felt kind of uneasy around you. Then I heard you beat up Patchwork, and I was really angry for a while.”

I gulped. I never thought about what she thinks of me during that time. It was an entirely different reality back then; her thoughts, or anyone else’s, didn’t matter. Only Ahzrukhal’s did.

“But what Tulip said to me about you being Ahzrukhal’s employee really challenged my perspective. Getting back at you would only end in me getting hurt. You were at Ahzrukhal’s mercy as much as Patchwork was.”

“So is that why you bought my contract back then? You felt sorry?”

“No. I felt your frustration at being powerless. So, I bought your contract to create an opportunity to seize that back. Of course it wasn’t easy after that,” Percy chuckles sheepishly, and I sigh, remembering all the times I struggled with the contract’s hold over me.

But it’s gone, right?

No sense in dwelling over that.

“So, where were you going with this, Percy?”

“Give Fawkes a chance.”

I stop in my tracks, feeling guilty as hell. All this time, all I thought about is Percy, and myself. Meanwhile, she tries to consider everyone around her.

“Fine, Angel, I will.”

I felt a light jab on my ribs; Percy elbowed it playfully. “Whatever, big guy.”

“I don’t think that nickname suits me anymore, Percy. We’ve got a bigger guy now,” I tease her, pointing at Fawkes, who’s taking our conversation in stride as he pummeled a dumb mutie in our way.

“Nah. Fawkes doesn’t need a nickname anymore.  You’re my big guy,” Percy teases back.

Is this flirting? Is Percy flirting with me? Goddammit. If I had more skin left on my cheeks, I would have blushed.

I almost ran into Fawkes when he stopped walking. I look to the right, and see the sickly green glow of the irradiated room that the GECK is in.

“Alright. You better not enter, human. This radiation is lethal to you. Stay here, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain,” he grunts, and my partner nods at him.

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

“No. Thank you, human.”

He turns around, and enters the room. On her tiptoes, Percy watches him inside through the window, while I keep watch, guarding her six just in case. Soon after, Fawkes returns carrying a briefcase.

That’s the GECK? What the hell?

“You got it!” Percy exclaims, taking the briefcase off of the super mutant’s hands gingerly. “Again, thank you so much Fawkes. You wouldn’t believe how important this is to us.”

“It’s my pleasure, Percy. Now, I believe this is farewell.”

Farewell?

I turn to Percy and see her somber expression. Good grief, don’t tell me she’s already getting attached to him. This happened with the Big Town kids too.

“Farewell? Fawkes, why don’t you come with us?”

Okay. Okay, I am definitely accepting that Fawkes indeed is good and that I shouldn’t judge him because of him being a super mutant, or metahuman, but this? Had Percy gone mad? Travelling with him could get us killed!

Before I can open my mouth and say something that might possibly anger her, Fawkes already took care of the problem.

“Sorry, I’m afraid a Super Mutant wouldn’t be welcome in the places you frequent.”

“But you said it yourself, you’re a metahuman! You’re different from the other mutants we-”

“All I would do is cause you undue attention and probably get you killed,” Fawkes interrupts, a tinge of sorrow in his grating voice.

“I- you’re right,” Percy sighs, relenting.

“Take care of yourself, friend.”

And with that, we parted ways.

I can tell Percy is sad by the slump in her shoulders. As much as it pains me to see her like this, it’s for the better. The Brotherhood can barely tolerate my presence. Fawkes? They’d shoot him on sight. It’s definitely for his safety too.

“Do you think we’ll see him again, Charon?”

“I don’t think we’ll see him anytime soon.”

“I’m worried.”

“Worry about yourself, angel. Have you seen him? He pummeled that other mutie no problem, like a kid throwing a teddy bear.”

“I guess you’re right. I- Charon, get down.”

Out of instinct, I listen to her. Percy pulls up her PipBoy, and a worried expression is etched on her features. “So many red dots… Charon, I think we’re about to encounter a huge group of muties.”

“Should we go back and get Fawkes?”

Gripping her rifle, she checks the magazine, then she pats at the ammo pouches on her waist. I proceed to check my own ammunition too. Just two boxes of shotgun shells left, and a grenade; the same grenade Percy gave me when she first hired me. I haven’t used it yet, after all these months.

We’re running low on ammo.

“No, no. Stay low. We’ll sneak out of here,” Percy tells me, and she crouches low, the helmet of her stealth suit protracting over her face, then her suit’s stealth mechanism activates. All I can see is a faint silver-white outline.

“I’ll scout ahead. If I raise a fist, move to my location.”

I nod, and she proceeds.

Cautiously, Percy moves through the hall. My grip on my shotgun remains steady, watching her inch slowly but surely to the open area ahead.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

A pulse grenade drops from the ceiling.

It felt like time slowed all around us. Percy sees the grenade landing near her foot, and turns around, movement abrupt, her helmet retracting from her head and revealing her panicked gaze. Her eyes are wide in terror, lips trembling as she yelled at me.

“Charon!”

My feet are ready to take me to her, but what she screamed before the grenade fried her suit’s systems and took her down made me freeze in my spot.

“I order you to live!”

The pulse grenade burst, and so did the walls of the vault. The rubble flew at Percy, who was falling backwards, her helmet thumping against the metal flooring as she hit the ground. Losing consciousness, the GECK escapes her grasp, and skitters a few feet away from her.

From the newly formed hole in the wall, a man emerges. Colonel Autumn. I thought that asshole was dead!

The Enclave is here.

Heart in my throat, I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I forgot the contract was gone. I turned around, and obeyed, fleeing from the scene with Percy’s words echoing in my head.

“Charon! I order you to live!”

“I order you to live!”

“Live!”

Live.

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #fallout 3 charon #charon fallout 3 #fawkes #fallout fawkes #fawkes fallout #fallout 3 fawkes #fawkes fallout 3 #butch deloria #fallout 3 #FO3 #charon x lone wanderer #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr

[crazyspookies]

I have thoughts about Goro and 0 energy to write them, and im sure soemone more asrticulate and more knowledgable about the subject could put it in better words bit this is mostly for me anyway.

Basically i think there’s more to it than just “he’s brainwashed by arasaka”. The guy is not stupid. He is a victim but also a perpetrator of the system of abuse that big corporations feed off of and inflict on society. Yes, the world is shit and corporations are the problem but also the things he mentions arasaka giving him are real (purpose, a better life than most other people), as fucked up as it is. Most people can’t escape contributing to, become part of, and sometimes even thrive in a capitalist system, and i cannot always fault a character for choosing it to extreme poverty like in goro’s case (also, it’s even worse because this is not just capitalism, but cyberpunk is a p violent place and corporations have their own private armies and that adds a lot of other problems to the dyamic).

But it’s not just that tho? it’s also a cultural thing, the act of owing arasaka as a whole for the resources spent to train him, the opportunity of becoming better and seeing his pootential, being trusted with the life of the highest ranking member in the family. It’s a life debt you are morally obligated to. I may be wrong, but i remember that was a big thing in japan, if not other countries too? It would be shameful for him to break this moral/life contract, it would taint him esp because saburo’s life was his responsability. Getting revenge or commiting seppuku would be the only way to balance the scales after his failure.

“Who cares about honor and life debts if arasaka is bad >:(”. I imagine that f you lived in a society where these things are paramount then you would? Some people don’t, obviously but Goro is obviously a person that has a very strict code for himself and some people are just like that. Also, i think goro has...some hope that arasaka is better than it really is in any other ending besides the devil ending. I think in the devil he kinda realizes or, at least, where we see that he migth be aware that arasaka is not good, and he still can’t do anything about it and he can’t break away from them because he still has an obligation towards them. Breaking up with arasaka would be turning on his own moral code. Maybe it’s possible, but not as easy as just saying “they are bad so rules don’t apply”.

#cyberpunk 2077 #takemura goro #goro takemura

[aesphantasmal]

NEW EP SPOILERS 16 JUNE

so. peter nureyev. Here Are All Of My Opinions

ill start by saying i'm not a meta writer, im a clown. i've never had a coherent thought in my life and i'm not gonna start now. all I'm gonna say is that fandoms tend to be awfully pessimistic, and tend to treat not being pessimistic about stories as naive. (and when i say pessimistic, i mean that fandom tends to treat hoping for not the worst outcome for characters as naive.) i remember after shadows on the ship, a lot of people were saying we can't trust nureyev, that we never should have done so. and that kinda stressed me out at the time even though it actually being nureyev didnt even like. occur as a thought in my head. so! 1. the penumbra and recovery quoting savanah @mraudiodrama, "Penumbra has proven itself to be about recovery, about finding love and found family and i dont see Kabert as the type of writers to sacrifice such an emotionally complex character as Peter Nureyev and not give him that chance to find family and start to rely on other people and get mentally healthier for some cheap twist!" for my part, i think that its possible we might get some kind of darkest hour morality wise from nureyev, as in, he might end up as a villain in the next season but eventually change sides again. ill address this again in point 6, but im not sure if this will happen. hell, we could even end up with something like the end of s1 where the person gets exactly what they want from nureyev and ot just doesn't work how they expect it to (im pretty sure the curemother doesn't exist at this point.) also, I'll go over this more in point 3, but i think grtting betrayed like this would pull juno significantly back in his arc, and. like. we've seen juno's arc. its great. but i dont kmow if we need to go through it again, and it wouldn't be remotely as good this time because we dont live in junos head full time. 2. the penumbra and hope the penumbra podcast is not the magnus archives. its not the kind of thing where everything's gonna end horribly, its not a tragedy, unless kabert are worse writers than i think they are. after everything, nureyev betraying everyone like that would be pretty bleak. 3. gay people if nureyev isn't at least seriously considering turning on whoever his debts are to, his behaviour towards juno throughout cyberjustice is. uh. pretty bad and manipulative. the closer he gets to juno, the more badly it will hurt him if/when nureyev betrays him, and nureyev doesn't want to hurt juno. he was willing to give his name up to engstrom and potentially lose his life saving him from miasma, i just cant imagine him both deliberately getting closer to juno and planning to betray him because thats some cartoon evil bullshit 4. from a purely practical perspective audiences are fickle, and easy to piss off. and i don't think there's many fans that would like tje penumbra more if it turned out nureyev had been bad all along. hes on a lot of the merch, and i think the queer romance is what brought a lot of people here in the first place. the two episodes done as liveshows heavily feature nureyev. alienating your fanbase like that just isn't good when you're an online creator 5. the evils of capitalism i dont have a whole lot to say in this section. just that spending so much time on capitalism bad and then having a thief with large debts be an antagonist for any decent length of time feels kinda weird 6. i dont want to think about it because it makes me sad im gay leave me alone! so, at the end of it all, it basically comes down to "do i expect the penumbra to be well written and satisfying". now, i'm a firm believer in keeping a knife raised just in case you do need to kill the author, but for now? i trust kabert. im still anxious tho lmao

#the penumbra podcast spoilers #the penumbra podcast #penumbra podcast #tpp #peter nureyev #tpp spoilers #penumbra spoilers #penumbra s3 spoilers #remy talks #for just so long #this took 5 minutes of negotiation to send on discord

[yandere2me2]

Hi there! First, I just wanted you to know that I really enjoy your writing. I don’t know most of the characters you write for, but I still am able to understand who they are as people from your works which is really cool!! Secondly, I was hoping I could hear your thoughts on the Obey Me characters? You can do as little or as many as you want, whatever you’re comfortable with. And finally, I just wanted to say I hope you have a good day!

Thanks anon! So far I’ve only written a few things, but if you wanna check out what characters I’ll write for, check out my newly posted rules post - for any fandom listed, I’m good writing any character so long as the other rules are followed (ex: any Obey Me character but Luke since he looks and acts like a child).

Since no limit was placed, I’ll just do some general headcanons for the first 4 brothers for now. Know that I’m willing to write about any other characters in Obey Me aside from Luke for future requests :)

So without further ado, some yandere Obey Me bros (under the cut because this got LONG)!

TW: implied/mentioned forced captivity, manipulation, unhealthy relationship standards, non-con/dub-con, degradation, voyeurism  

Lucifer

Sadistic - but that’s a given with the game information. To be more specific, he sets strict rules for his darling and is very much a control freak; he has so many things going on in his life that he has to manage out of necessity, but his darling is a special case he’ll gladly take on 

If his darling breaks a rule, he enjoys doling out punishments. What type of punishment depends on his mood, the type of incident his darling caused, and if their actions affected Diavolo. God help them if if they insult Diavolo

Possessive with a capital P. His darling is his. No one gets to see them fall to pieces under his hands but him. No one gets to bring them to the peak of pleasure but him. They will fear him the most above all others if that’s the way his darling must cope with his methods. Lucifer would prefer an amicable relationship, but he understands he’ll be met with resistance with the standards he has

Praise will come rarely, so any darling that craves it will have to earn it by being on their best behavior. If his darling does manage to get him to praise them, he’s in a very good mood and will be more open to requests (he won’t let them go, but some new books, hobby materials, or food options are fair game)

He’s a yandere that will lock his darling away for their safety as well as his own comfort and ease. Dangers are everywhere in Devildom, and he knows his darling will manage to find trouble if left to their own devices or with his brothers. He’s not going to risk it. Besides, he’ll have a better hold on his darling if he’s the only one they interact with daily

Going off the last point, Lucifer would also hide his darling away to avoid Diavolo’s attention. By my read on their relationship, Lucifer holds little power to oppose Diavolo thanks to their pact, and Diavolo wanting in on Lucy’s darling would frustrate him beyond words - can’t he have just one thing for himself? I’ll be writing more on a Diavolo/Lucifer/Darling situation after requests are filled, but BOY do I wanna write about this now

Mammon

He’s needy. Mammon craves affection from his darling in any amount they’re willing to give. He’ll be the first to deny it if his darling or someone else points it out, but everyone knows

He Does Not Like To Share His Darling! At all!!! He will pout and whine and get even more clingy if he thinks his darling so much as looks at someone else with interest (imagined or not) - especially his brothers

His punishments are usually to reassure himself that he’s in charge, that his darling did him wrong and they should be grateful he’s their protector, that he even bothered to notice them in the first place. Any other demon would have left them to fend for themselves; he is the best demon a puny human like his darling could ask for

That said, when he isn’t worked up he’s very much a sub in his relationship with his darling and aims to please them. Praise doesn’t come too often for him, and he loves when he can get any positive affirmation. He’ll get testy if his darling outright insults him

He wouldn’t think about locking his darling away until much later. After his darling grows accustomed to living in Devildom, after Mammon starts realizing and (unwillingly) accepting his feelings, he notices how close his darling is with his brothers and the others, how easily they could be stolen away from him… he doesn’t like it one bit

Mammon wouldn’t think much about his plan before he sets things in motion by making a deal with some witches to set up a private space for him and his darling that no one can reach without his say-so. This of course incurs a ton of debt that he’s confident he’ll pay off in a jiffy (he won’t) and he only leaves when he needs to handle paying off his debts or deal with some Devildom official business - he’s the second most powerful demon brother under Lucifer, so as obnoxious as Mammon could be about how “important” he is, he’s not entirely wrong

If he’s in a good mood, he’ll spoil his darling as best he can with any material good he can think they’ll like. Just name it and it’s theirs. Unless of course they upset him, then he’s just as quick to take any privileges he gives away and remind them who’s in charge. It makes him hurt to have to punish his darling, so he tries to avoid it unless he thinks they need a reminder of who has to make the rules around here

Leviathan

Levi doesn’t have much experience with darlings compared to his brothers - throughout the thousands of years he’s lived alongside his brothers, he prefers to shut himself away most of the time. He’s had the least amount of darlings in his lifetime, and when they pass on he secludes himself to fantasize about his perfect darling (who’s usually based on a combination of anime characters and past darlings he’s had)

He’s so insecure, constantly worrying how he isn’t good enough that he bullies his darling into having them convince him that he’s who they want. His darling better be convincing though; if he senses pity or fear or anything else that takes away from their sincerity, he won’t be kind when he’s punishing them

He’s almost as overbearing as Mammon - that’s a feat in itself. Levi won’t isolate his darling though; he’ll manipulate and guilt his darling into wanting to stay with him to avoid his ire. They’ll manage to step on his toes in one way or another, finding some unspoken overstep as an excuse to point out their flaws

Honestly the “transport yourself into a video game” trope opens up so many fun options for Levi to play with his darling. He has games (similar to the one we witness in canon) where he and his darling can spend virtual weeks together without anyone to disturb them. He has games he knows his darling hates - horror games that are gruesome for demons, let alone a human, where his darling can’t escape and can die as many times as it takes for Levi to be pleased before he transports them back out. He has naughty games for when he wants to import his darling to watch them endure whatever scenarios fit his fancy - anything from tentacle porn to gangbangs. By the end of it, his darling will be so grateful to be back in the real world they’ll be begging to stay with him, just as long as they don’t have to go back in a game. Levi uses the affection to his advantage

He forces role play on his darling - Levi as the Lord of Shadows and his darling as his precious Henry. His darling better learn their lines and how Levi likes them to respond if they want to stay on Levi’s good side

His darling’s wardrobe consists of mostly Ruri-chan and Henry cosplay Levi purchases for them. No you can’t change my mind

Of course, if his darling isn’t in a game or reading some top manga series, Levi’s talking about it to them or having them watch/read along with him. He just wants to share what he enjoys with the person he treasures, even if they’re just a simple normie human

Satan

Earlyon, his darling is warned by the other brothers that his smile is fake, that he’scynical and shouldn’t be trusted. But out of all the brothers, he comes acrossas one of the least intimidating, so it’s easy to gravitate towards him

Tbhhe’s likely not interested in his darling at first – humans are lessercreatures to demons, food for most and potentially nuisances when one makes apact with a powerful demon. Until he finds something noteworthy, like how quicklyMammon forms a pact with this human, he doesn’t see much potential

He’s pretty reasonable up until he’s angry; for a darling surrounded by dangers and demons,he appears to be the least likely to harm them, and they accidentally push one of hisbuttons at some point. Once his limit is reached, he is terrifying – wrath isin his name and he lets his darling know when he’s displeased

After the first time he loses his temper, he’ll givehis darling clear warnings before he punishes them. He uses his darling’s fearof his punishments to his advantage, encouraging “good” behavior with thethreat of “or else” in the background

He has some notable similarities with the eldest brother: a sadistic streak a mile long and a preference to dominate/need for control to ensure his darling is undoubtedly his. How Satan shows these traits is different in key ways, however

Satan is sadistic more often when he’s feeling neglected, miffed, or bored with his darling. He’s not as strict as Lucifer, actually allowing his darling the freedom to act on their own accord in most cases. It gives his darling the chance to show him how much devotion they are willing to give him without him commanding it. If he gives an order, however, he expects his darling to obey

Unlike Lucifer, Satan doesn’t have the risk of things going Bad if something doesn’t go his way; Lucifer needs to please Diavolo or risk failing on his end of the pact, and so control is key for him. Satan likes control, but to the extent of knowing he has the final say. Satan doesn’t want to control every aspect of his darling - at the end of the day he wants his darling to voluntarily choose him, even if only out of fear of his displeasure - but he will have them

Satan has his own possessive habits - he needs affirmations that his darling is his. Either he’s marking them in some primal way or he has his darling reassure him through their actions

He stalks his darling. Have you seen how aware he is of his brothers’ activities in-game? It’s almost unnerving in some situations - and that’s just canon material. Satan watches his darling out of curiosity at first before it grows into an obsession for him. After a while he knows every little detail, every mannerism, every preference. All those outings he asked his darling to join him on before he actually clarifies he wants to date them? They’re all used as opportunities for Satan to review later

Advice to any darling of his: Do NOT compare him to Lucifer if you know what’s good for you. Just. Don’t. He won’t kill you, but you will wish he did by the time he’s through with you

I say this as several of my points are comparing his similarities/differences with Lucifer hahaaaaaaaa sorry Satan

#yandere #yandere obey me #yandere headcanons #yandere satan #yandere lucifer #yandere leviathan #yandere mammon #mammon x darling #lucifer x darling #leviathan x darling #satan x darling #my post #my replies #anons

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//the fugitive. kuroo tetsurou//

Request:  Not really?? But spawned from @janellion​ and I obsessing over royal kuroo like three weeks ago, so uhhh requested by me?? Peep the new TRT series ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: i have come to the awful realization that i have ruined any and all of my dating expectations by writing so much fanfiction.

Everything about his current situation was far from ideal.  The heavy downpour as the sky let loose all of its unshed tears flattened his hair against his forehead, his jacket with all of the intricate embroidery jacket and the silver crown that had adorned his raven hair had long since been cast away to better disguise the fleeing prince.  It had been long expected, but a storm had unleashed itself upon the castle, bringing the day of impending doom upon them sooner rather than later.  The people of the kingdom have finally had enough of the tyranny, of the constant feuds, the never ending debts and taxes and now, filled with rage, they had made their way to the castle, hungry for blood and refusing to yield until the king’s head was on a stake.  

His feet sloshed through the puddles, soaking his socks as the rain continued to pour down all around him.  The young prince only stopped long enough to catch his breath under the shelter of a tree before he was once again running through the night in the darkness of the woods.  The last few moments he had with his family kept echoing in his head, eyes pricking with tears to match those of the clouds above him.

“My son, leave before they kill you too.  Get out of the kingdom, please.”

“But, father-”

“Tetsurou, please.  This is my final request.  Head south until you reach Effingfil River.  Once you get to the otherside, you’ll be safe.  Quick!  Make haste and don’t ever look back.”

Who was he to deny his father’s final wish before his end?  He had set out into the night, a dark cloak adorning his figure to shield his identity.  Although he knew better, Kuroo carried his silver circlet in his hands, a final memento of his royal life.  If worse came to worst, it would fetch a good price at the market, enough to make ends meet until he could find some sort of safe haven in the neighboring kingdom.  

But, the cloak, the crown, and every other royal thing about him had been tossed into a stream that had carried the articles away.  There was no time to be sentimental when you were running for your life.  Even so, now he secretly wished he had kept the woolen cloak.  The icy rain had soaked through his clothes, chilling him to the bone as a steady wind picked up, pelting the droplets harder against him.  His entire body shook in a mixture of cold and fear.  Never in his life did he expect to wander through the woods all alone; hungry, freezing, tears mixing with the rain as the water ran down his cheeks.  

Kuroo had no idea how close he was to the border.  Honestly, he wasn’t even sure that he was going the right way anymore.  He couldn’t see the stars through the thick branches above him and in the off chance that there was a break, the dark storm clouds hid his only compass from view.  He did know one thing, though.

He knew the flicker of candlelight in a window in the dead of night.  People.  Someone.  A broken sob of relief fell from his lips as he picked up his pace all over again.  If they turned him in, so be it.  He just wanted to be away from this nightmare, even if only for a moment.  

Your life has always been relatively quiet.  A small cabin on the edge of the woods didn’t boast many visitors, so the sudden pounding on your door that pulled you from your embroidery had made your entire body jolt in shock.  Setting your needle and thread to the side, you took up your candle, only for the steady knock on your door to come again.  “I’m coming.  Hold on!”

You had been expecting a lot of things, really.  Royal tax collectors coming to steal more money from you, the merchant from the other kingdom who smuggled the better quality threads from the other side of the border in the dead of night, maybe even a witch who had come to cast a vicious spell on you.  A dashing young man barely older than yourself, eyes tinged red with sorrow, clothes muddied from trekking through the rain, a hand clutching his chest as if to hold onto his aching heart, however, was nowhere on your list of expectations.  Before you could even stop yourself, you were ushering him inside without a word being passed between the two of you.  A second and a third log were added to the fire, the temperature in your small home quickly rising as you tended to the flames.  The strange boy at your door stood stiffly in the middle of your living room, the orange blaze casting dancing shadows across his features, amber eyes seemingly glowing in the low light.  

“Sit, please.  Let me see if I have anything for you to put on, so you don’t have to sit there in soaked clothes,” you say, pulling up a chair for him to be able to rest his weary feet, but when he took a seat, rather than sinking, taking pleasure in the opportunity to finally relax, even if it was only for the night, he sat with his back straight, slender hands folded elegantly in his lap.  Every so often he would reach towards the fire to warm his chilled fingers, but they were quickly returned to his lap as if he had done something incredibly inappropriate.  The soft rustle of your nightgown as you padded across the wooden floors shifted his attention away from the fire and over to you and the set of clothes that you held in your hands.

“I hope these fit you.  They belonged to my brother before he passed in the war, so feel free to keep them.  I have no use for them,” you say.

Kuroo gingerly takes the clothes from you, trying to hide the look of distaste on his face at the feeling of the material.  It was cheap and stiff, nothing like he was used to, but they were dry and that’s what was more important.  “May I ask for your name?”  He asks, peeling his shirt from his body to replace it with the one you had given him.

“Y/N, sir.  And who might you be and what in God’s name are you doing out in the woods at this hour?  There’s all sorts of animals out there that don’t take kindly to people in their territory.  You should consider yourself lucky.”

His eyes shifted to the window, peering through the night as if to check that there was no one who had seen him during his escape.  “I- I really don’t think I should tell you that.  At least, not yet.  My apologies if that seems rude, but, you see, I’m in a bit of trouble, and well, I don’t exactly know who to trust right now.”

You nod simply and give a short chortle.  “What’d you do?  Commit tax evasion?  Lord knows the king would have your head if that ever happened.  The man is greedier than anyone I’ve ever met.  You would think that he has enough money coming in, honestly.  With the amount of citizens that he hounds for his outrageous taxes, you’d think he wouldn’t need to raise them again, but he has to pay for his wars somehow, I suppose.  Sending innocent men off to die isn’t cheap, that’s for sure.”

You were so busy carrying on with your train of thought that you hadn’t noticed the way Kuroo’s body suddenly stilled as you continued to discuss his father so freely.  Annoyance and bitterness dripped from every syllable as you spoke.  The Kuroo family hadn’t been popular in the eyes of the people for many generations.  They thrived off of starting unnecessary conflicts that would drag on for years.  Even now, there were troops sitting off the shore of a small kingdom, blocking their trade routes, suffocating them slowly as they had been for the past seven years.

“I’m afraid that the monarchy has likely died today,” he says shortly, rolling up his pant legs.  They had obviously been made for someone much shorter than himself as the ends rested just below the middle of his calves.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m from the capital city.  Some of the citizens staged a coup.  Before I left, I heard them say that they wished the king and his whole family dead.  I don’t know what will be left of them by tomorrow.”

“Well, then let’s hope that this will finally turn things around in this country.  It’s difficult to make a living and pay a ridiculous amount of taxes when you’re out here by yourself.  My customers have been sparse since the recent increase.  They can’t afford to mend their clothes, but I can’t afford to live without their business.  Thankfully, with the border as close as it is, I get some business from the other kingdom, but it can also be a pain.  The hassle of trying to make the trip across the river isn’t worth it for most.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up slightly at the mention of a river.  “Which river is it?”

“Effingfil.  Why?”

“How close am I to the border?”

“Only a few miles, sir.  Is everything alright?  You seem a bit frantic.”

“I need to get out of the country.  Please, will you help me?”

“Sir, right now you need to rest.  You’re lucky that you didn’t get hypothermia or something like that out in the rain.”

“Then tomorrow?  First thing in the morning.  Will you take me to the border?”

“Why are you so keen on leaving, may I ask?”

“Because if I don’t, they’ll kill me too.  Please, I’m not ready to die,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice.  And in another odd twist of things you weren’t expecting, the stranger who had stumbled across your house in the darkness clutched onto your clothes as he hid his face against your shoulder.  You could feel his body shaking against your form as you took him into your arms, soothing circles being rubbed against his lower back, the silence only being broken by his choked sobs and the gentle crackling of the fire.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kurootetsurou #tetsurou #kuroo imagine #kuroo x reader #trt #throne room thursdays #imagines #x reader #royalty au #damn kuroo pleading not to die kinda makes my heart ache no cap

[seasonofthegeek]

The Perfect Partnership

This drabble was requested on ko-fi by @staylostinstereo for the fanfic trope mash-ups with the prompts “marriage of convenience” and “pregnancy” for Adrien and Marinette. I couldn’t quite work in pregnancy (at this point in the story anyway) but I did mention babies, haha. I decided to go with a non-Miraculous AU where they’ve been best friends for years. Thanks for you donation!

___

“It’s not the craziest thing I’ve proposed.” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows. “Did you get that? Proposed.”

Marinette blinked at her best friend. “Wait, are you actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am! I can’t get my trust fund until I’m married and you need capital to start your business. It’s the perfect partnership.”

“It’s marriage.”

“Well, yeah.” He frowned. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”

She threw her hands in the air with an agitated huff. “I’m saying this is nuts! We can’t just get married so you can get your trust fund!”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” she echoed. “Because...because that’s just not what people do. We’re not even dating.”

“It’s what we could do. And everyone already thinks we’re together anyway.”

Marinette shifted away from him uncomfortably. “That still doesn’t make it right.” She’d been in love with her best friend off and on for a decade or so and marrying him seemed like a very bad idea...or a very good one. Either way, it most definitely wasn’t a smart idea.

“We can divorce in like a year or something. Nothing will change anyway. We already spend most nights together.”

“Not together together.”

Adrien sighed. “Fine, we already spend most nights in the same apartment. Better?”

“I guess.”

“And it isn’t like I’m going to make you share my bed just because you’ll be my wife, although you know you’re welcome to.” Another man may have taken that opportunity to give her a leering look but there was only earnest hopefulness in Adrien’s eyes.

It was true they’d slept in the same bed some nights. Adrien wasn’t partial to storms and Marinette didn’t like sleeping alone when it got too cold so they fell into bed together from time to time. And Marinette often woke up pining and regretful. She couldn’t do that on a daily basis.

“Adrien, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He stuck out his bottom lip. “But you’re the only person in the world who would marry me.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true. You’ve got women, men, and everyone in between lining up everytime you walk outside.”

“You’re the only person in the world I want to marry,” he amended. “Come on, please. We’ll have enough money to do whatever we want.”

“It’ll be your money.”

“As my wife, it’ll be yours too,” he grinned. “I want to spend it on you. You’re the most important person in my life.” He took her hands in his. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, please do me the honor of marrying me so we can get our hands on my awful father’s money and do really fun stuff with it.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can! It doesn’t even have to be anything big. We can do a really quiet ceremony and tell Alya and NIno the truth. Or we can throw a big party if we want. We can do anything.”

She could feel her resolve wearing down. “I need to think about it.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s fine. Do that. Think about how much easier it will be to start your business with no debt.”

“You’re killing me here.”

Adrien flashed her a killer smile. “I’d never do that to my future wife.”

___

“Wow.” Alya watched Marinette turn on her heels and pace back across her small living room. “Like wow, wow. I knew he was in love with you but this is just beyond.”

Marinette spun sharply and glared at her. “Adrien is not in love with me. I can’t have this conversation with you again.”

“Okay, don’t shoot the messenger but that man has been in love with you since we were all sporting acne.” Alya shook her head. “I know you never want to believe me, but he definitely is.”

“And I’m saying he’s definitely not. Adrien and I are friends, we’ve always been friends.”

“And now he wants to marry you. That’s how I am with all my friends too.”

Marinette groaned and sank down to the couch, dragging her palms down her face. “What am I gonna do?”

“What do you want to do?”

She blew out a puff of air. “I want to marry him and have his kids and grow old with him and the worst thing he could’ve ever done is ask me to have a fake marriage with him and I’m so angry at him right now.” She felt the prick of tears and gritted her teeth, willing them to go away. “He’s just a big, stupid jerk except he didn’t even mean to be which makes it worse.”

“Oh, Mari,” Alya sighed softly. She moved down the couch and pulled her friend into a hug. “I think you just need to talk to him. Maybe he feels the same way you do.”

“And if he doesn’t, it would make everything really weird,” she muttered, burying her face in Alya’s soft hair. “I can’t, Al. I just can’t.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

___

“So this marriage thing, what if you end up meeting somebody?” Marinette had been rehearsing the question in her head throughout half the movie and she saw Adrien hesitate beside her, his fork dropping back down into his box of Chinese delivery.

“I won’t,” he replied carefully.

“You could.” 

“But I won’t,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. “And if you do...well...we can figure it out.”

“We can figure it out? Like you’ll be my husband and I can just date someone else because the whole thing is fake?”

Adrien’s expression became pained and he kept his eyes in the direction of the television. “If that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“To get married so we can have lots of money and fun together.”

“Because we’re best friends,” she pressed.

“Of course.”

“Right.”

An uncomfortable silence slid between them and they finished the rest of the movie without any further conversation on the topic.

___

She’d talked to Alya.

She’d talked to her mom and then her dad, though she’d left out a lot of the finer details.

She’d talked to herself a lot.

She’d talked to Adrien in her head. Hundreds of conversations and they all ended up the same way.

She couldn’t marry him. Not like this. Not when he thought it was something it wasn’t. Not when he didn’t know how she felt about him.

But she also wasn’t ready to tell him how she felt. She doubted she would ever be ready.

She had to tell him no. 

He’d find someone else to marry so he could get his trust fund and she would keep saving up to start her business just like she’d planned and they’d still be best friends. They’d both be fine.

Marinette gathered her courage and walked up the familiar steps to Adrien’s apartment. She used the code she knew by heart to get into the building and fished her personal key out of her purse as she rode the elevator up. She gave the quick cursory knock on the door before she slid her key into the lock and pushed it open.

Adrien shuffled into view, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a miserable expression on his face. “I’m sick,” he whined pitifully. His cheeks were dark and his eyes were too bright and Marinette knew even before she made it to him that his skin would be hot to the touch.

“Go lay down. Have you eaten anything yet?”

“Not hungry.”

“Big baby. Go lay on the couch and I’ll make you something.” She watched him until he made it to the couch and then went to busy herself in the kitchen. The open layout let her keep an eye on him as she worked. “Have you taken any medicine?”

“Don’t have any,” he sniffled.

“I brought some over last time you got sick.”

“I used it all.”

“You’re supposed to replace it, you goof. What would you do without me?”

He turned on the couch so he could watch her with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t ever want to know.”

His hair was a mess and he’d rarely looked worse but Marinette couldn’t help but feel fond warmth flow through her entire being. She loved him so much, even when he was a sad lump of a man. 

“Are you going to marry me, Mari?” His eyes were sliding shut, the words slurring out from between sleepy lips.

She could’ve said nothing. She could’ve kept her promise to herself and told him no. She could’ve pretended she didn’t hear him.

But instead she whispered, “Yes.”

Buy me a cherry coke?

#adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #did i play myself writing this? #you better believe it #i want to write more #but i have to finish up other stuff first #you know #unless someone sends kofi for more #and then like i'd HAVE to move it up this list #alksdjf;lksadjf

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 90

The Black Bulls had arrived back home to find their Captain gone. Naturally Iban had been unhelpful.  The Blood Mage only saying that Jax had left yesterday evening and probably wouldn’t return for a few days.

Though tired from a day long broom ride home, Yami and Teris had taken the Saber Wolves out after supper for a ride.  The wolves had caught the sent of something and Yami was happy to let Pilfer and No Name hunt. Happier still to have a girlfriend who was fine with participating in such a thing.

With the wolves full-bellied and dozing behind them, Yami and Teris snuggled, laid out on the forest floor looking up at the bright stars and full moon through the canopy of trees.

Content as Yami was, he could feel Teris thinking.  Did her mind ever stop?

“Gold coin for your thoughts.”  Yami murmured lifting his head to look down at the top of hers.  “Teris?”  Yami tried again, fingers running along her arm.

“Hmm?” Teris raised her head from his chest, eyes finding his.

Pillowing his head on an arm, Yami asked.  “What’s going on in that head of yours this time, Princess?”

Teris lowered her head back on Yami’s chest.  Her eyes closed in shame and guilt at the remembered deal with Zora.  Suddenly chill, she held Yami tighter, body scooting closer to his.  Yami’s mana might radiate cold but his body was warm, same as anyone else.

“I was just thinking I’d be a terrible mother.”  She muttered.

Yami tensed.  Swallowing, he told himself there was no need worry about kids.  They hadn’t done anything that would have made that a concern.

Wondering if this was her way of saying she wanted children when they married, Yami carefully asked.  “Do you want to be a good mother?”

He closed his eyes, internally cringing at the stupidity of the question.  If she wanted to be a mother, of course she’d want to be a good one.  What kind of person wanted to be a bad mother?

Teris shrugged, fingers lazily drawing patterns on his chest.  “If I was one.  Yeah.  But--”  She paused, tensing.  Was Yami asking her if she wanted kids?  They hadn’t even talked about marriage.  Not really.  Other than Yami having now said twice that he wanted to marry her.  “What about you?”  She asked, breath held waiting for answer.

Feeling her tension, Yami relaxed.  Chuckling, he teased.  “I don’t give one lick what kind of mother I’d be.”

“Yami.”

Yami caught her eye and smiled crookedly.  “I’d certainly enjoy making you one if wanna try being good at it.”

“Yami!” Teris burrowed her face into his chest, blushing.

Yami laughed, smile growing.  He held her as she squirmed.

After a moment he questioned.  “So if you weren’t thinking about us having kids.  Why are you thinking about what kind of mother you’d make?”

Teris didn’t miss the ‘us’ but left it without remark.  Turning onto her back, she exhaled.  “Zora wants me to train him.”

Yami’s skin prickled, missing her warmth.  Thinking of what she’d previously told him of Zara, he said.  “If he’s as driven as his father, he shouldn’t have a problem becoming a Magic Knight when old enough.”

Sitting up, Teris muttered.  “I doubt he’ll ever want to become a Magic Knight.”

“Why does he want you to train him then?”  When she didn’t answer Yami turned his head, looking at her.  “Teris?”

Teris glanced at him, but couldn’t hold his gaze.  “I—I can’t.”

“Yes you can.  I’m you closest friend.  Remember?”  Yami pressed, giving a toying smile.

Teris’ lips curled up slightly.  True as that was, this wasn’t hers to tell.  It shouldn’t have even been hers to know.  She wished she had never overheard Julius talking with Jax that day.  Much as she wanted to do something about Zara’s murder, there was nothing she could do.  She hadn’t even been able to tell Nozel and plead with him to use his position for fear of the debt she would’ve owed him.

Yami sat up, becoming serious.  “You can tell me anything.”

Teris frowned, fingers fidgeting on her crossed legs.

Yami frowned in return.  He didn’t want any secrets between them, and had thought that Teris finally telling him about Nozel’s kiss meant she wanted the same.

“A few weeks back Gendry came to me.  He wanted to tell me something but said I couldn’t tell anyone.  I told him I could agree to that.  I had in the past but I couldn’t anymore.  I couldn’t swear I’d keep something from you.  There’s been no reason to tell you what he said, but that doesn’t change the fact that...”  Yami stopped and shook his head.  Beginning again, he told.  “Just when I think you couldn’t mean more to me than you already do, I find out just how wrong I was.”

Teris swallowed, thinking the same.  She couldn’t imagine loving Yami more than she already did.  But day to day.  Month to month.  She discovered that the depth and breath of her love had grown.

“Zara was murdered by members of his own squad.”  A weight lifted from her shoulders at confession.  An anchor of angry hatred loosening as the burdensome knowledge was shared.  “I don’t know who in the Purple Orcas did it or who in the squad knows.  But yesterday I found out that Zora does.  He doesn’t know them by name.  But he saw their faces.”

Yami drew his legs up, forearms resting on knees.  He didn’t need to be told why some of Zara’s squad members would do such a thing.  He could guess easily enough.  Nobility, especially lower ranking nobles, didn’t like it when commoners did well for themselves.  The fact that Julius and Teris had been friends with Zara had probably been bad enough.  But after the Nine Days War, Zara had gained esteem for being a member of the team that had made it to the Diamond Kingdoms capital, earning peace.  Zara had become something of a friend with Randall, a high ranking noble, and Nozel and Fuegoleon, royal princes of the second and third families of the kingdom. Taking all that into account, it was little wonder Zara Ideale had ended up dead.  Peasants had been killed by nobles for less.

Unfocused eyes on hanging hands, Yami surmised.  “Kid wants vengeance and asked you to help see him prepared.  Smart.”  He looked at Teris. Her demeanor and earlier words telling him she had agreed.

Yami figured the kid would likely get himself killed or caught whether Teris trained him or not.  It would be better if she cut ties with Zora now.  But that wasn’t who Teris was.  She cared too much.  It was one of the many things about her that Yami paradoxically found both endearing and exasperating.

“You could’ve told him no.”  Yami said.

“The only way I could get him to promise to wait until he got his grimoire was if I agreed to instruct him.”

Yami raised a brow.  “And you trust him to do that?  Even if he saw one of them in the street?”

“Chances of that are slim.  And if it does happen...”  Teris sighed.  She plopped back, laying out, and roughly scrubbed a hand over her face. “What was I suppose to do?  Say no and leave him to his own demise?”

For Teris’ sake that’s what Yami would’ve preferred her to do. Then again, whether Teris trained Zora or left him to his own devices, she’d feel responsible for whatever happened.  This way Zora would at least have a chance at survival.

Knowing nothing he said would make her feel better, Yami laid back down, stretching out beside her, and changed the subject.  “I’m surprised Jax didn’t go.”

“Doubt either one of them are ready to see each other.”  Teris said, speaking of the Captain and Gilly.

“I suppose not.”  Yami sighed.

“Vanessa was...”

“Practically naked.”  Yami supplied when Teris didn’t go on.  He shook his head.  “I figured the girl would go a bit wild after being locked away in that cage I found her in.  But that...”  He turned onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow, and looked Teris over. “Wouldn’t mind getting a private viewing of you in a get up like that.”

“Unlikely.” Teris huffed, moving to sit up.

Yami pulled her back down, upper-half rolling on top of her.  “Unlikely, but not unimaginable.”

“I don’t want to know what you imagine in that head of yours.”

“Probably for the best.  At least until we can act some of it out.”   Yami grinned.

“You’re terrible.”

Yami’s face lowered a hairs breath from hers.  “You make me terrible.”

“Don’t go blaming me for your salacious thoughts.”

“Then stop making have them.”  Yami breathed, lips ghosting hers.

“I’m not--”  Teris was silenced by his kiss.

Pilfer growled.

Thinking the Saber Wolf was challenging him, Yami lifted his head and growled back.  A sense of pride at Pilfer’s protectiveness of Teris mixed with a disturbing surge of possessiveness.

Pilfer turned to Yami.  Lowering his head, the Saber Wolf whined.  No Name was looking in the same direction Pilfer had been, body tense, ears perked.

Yami pushed to his knees.  Turning in the same direction, he focused his sense of Ki.

Laying beneath him, Teris silently cursed the disturbance’s timing.

“It’s a pack.”  Yami said, sensing them draw near.  He got to his feet and held his hand out to Teris pulling her up.

“Can we out ride them?”  Teris asked.

Yami looked back at Pilfer and No Name.  The two Saber Wolves ears twitched, heckles raise.  He could sense they were wanting to attack. This was their territory, it was natural they’d want to defend their claim.

“Not with their hearts not in it.”  Yami told.

“So we cull the pack or drive them off.  How many?”

“Nine. I think there’s something following them.”  Yami shook his head unable to tell if they were Saber Wolves or Saber Cats, or what was following them.  Knowing Teris needed a source of light in order to light travel, he glanced up at the tree canopy.  “Need a bit more light?”

Reading his mind, Teris’ eyes widened.  “We’re not leaving them.”

“We are if it gets bad.  They’re wolves, Teris.  I care about them too. But I’m not risking you.”  Yami looked back up at the towering branches.  “Stand back.”

Teris stood back against a tree truck.  Unsheathing his katana, Yami sent up slices of darkness that cut away several branches.  A magical black hole formed sucking in the falling limbs, leaving the ground clear.

“That good enough?”  Yami asked.

Teris nodded, still not happy at the thought of possibly leaving the Saber Wolves.

Looking at her, Yami sighed in disappointment.  “So much for a nice quiet night.”

“Pretty sure the elk thought the same when we came along.”  Teris said, glancing at the remains of Pilfer and No Name’s kill.

Yami smirked at her dark humor.  Referring to the Saber Wolves, he told Teris.  “I’ve never fought beside them like this.  Be mindful, in case they get caught up and lose themselves.”

Whatever he had sensed following the pack had disappeared, leaving Yami wondering what it had been and where it went.  Suddenly, two figures appeared in front of them.

Yami and Teris prepared to strike.

“Hold it!”  Olsen held up a hand.

“Down!” Ellara ordered.

Olsen grabbed a hold of Yami and Teris, pushing them down as he bent over. Teris felt a release of mana.  Looking up she saw Pilfer and No Name fall over.

The spell rolled off from Ellara in a wave, dissipating the further it traveled.  She turned to the two Vice Captain’s looking rather proud of herself.

Yami shoved Olsen off and stormed toward the Wizard Kings Advisor.  “What the hell did you do to my wolves!”

“Yami!” Teris rushed and grabbed his arm, holding him back.  She looked at Ellara, the feeling she had at the last Magic Knights Entrance Exams of being studied by the Advisor, making sense now that she knew the truth about her.

Ellara calmly informed.  “Your wolves are merely unconscious.  Just like the pack of oncoming Saber Cats.  I’m no killer, Vice Captain.”

“Sure you’re not.”  Yami glared.

Ellara’s head tilted, brows furrowing.  “I understand you’re worried about your pets.  But I assure you, they’re fine.  If it was a fight with a pack of Saber Cats you were spoiling for.  I apologize.  But that’s no reason to insult me.  We at Magic Investigations are not killers. Me and my people aren’t even capable of it.”

“Trust me, lady.  Anyone’s capable given the right or wrong push.”  Yami said.

“Are you going to sheath your weapon Vice Captain?  Or do you still believe you have need of it?”  Ellara asked, realizing that somehow Yami knew of Julius and Jax’s suspicions of her.  She couldn’t imagine the Captain's telling Yami or Teris.  Maybe it was that strange Ki of his that made Yami ill at ease with her.

Positioning himself in front of Ellara, Olsen faced Yami.  “What’s the matter with you?”

Yami continued to stare at the Wizard Kings Advisor.  He felt Teris’ fingers brush along his left arm and dropped his ready stance. Sheathing his katana, he asked.  “How am I suppose to get my wolves back home?”

“I can help with that.”  Ellara reached into her pocket, noticing how Yami and Teris tensed.  They both knew.  Or at the very least suspected, she thought with a curse.  Doing her best to keep her mood and expression light, she went on.  “You two no doubt have experience with transportation charms.”

Teris eased seeing the Advisor produce a charm similar to Greywright’s. She was grateful Yami had allowed Marx to put a mental block on him; her father having put one on her when she was a small child.  Jaxon Nova had done the same with Julius and Fyntch when they were young. She had been somewhat surprised to learn from Marx that is wasn’t something all Memory Mages did to their children.

With the blocks in place, no one could enter their minds unless they allowed it or were unconscious.  To think she had let Ellara enter her head back when she and Yami had been attacked on the road their first year as Magic Knights.  Ellara had probably known of the attack before it had happened.  She certainly had known who had carried it out.  Had Ellara been there the morning of the Summer Solstice? Which one of the masked figures had she been?  Teris felt stupid for believing her lies about seeking out information of the Agents of Chaos’ whereabouts and next plans.

“I’m sure you’re both aware of a transportation charms limitations.  So one at a time with one wolf each would be best.”  Ellara said, looking Yami and Teris over.

Yami stepped forward.  “Pilfer and I.”

“Yami.” Teris breathed.

Yami looked over his shoulder at Teris.  Even with Pilfer and No Name unconscious Teris couldn’t light travel the wolves.  The chance of burning them too great.  While he doubted Ellara would attempt anything, he wasn’t going to chance leaving her alone with Teris.

“Olsen. Stay with her.”  Yami ordered, as if the other man had a choice. He stepped next to Pilfer, left hand resting casually on the hilt of his katana.

“I’ll be back for you.”  Ellara told Teris.

Yami’s hand tightened instinctively on his katana’s hilt.  They appeared in one of the open kennels.

Ellara stepped out of the pen.  “I suppose I should have asked which one.”

Eager to get back to Teris, Yami closed and latched the gate.  “It doesn’t matter.  Let’s go back.”

Dark eyes glinting in the moonlight, Ellara told.  “You’re not going anywhere, Vice Captain.”

Yami’s muscles tensed, right hand twitching.  It was a struggle not to reach across his body for his katana, even with her toying Ki.

Smirking, Ellara continued.  “The transportation charm is low enough on mana as it is.  You stay here.  I’ll bring your counterpart and other Saber Wolf back to you.”

Yami watched her disappear.

Teris was already beside the other Saber Wolf when Ellara appeared.  She could see the relief that washed over the Vice Captain's face.  It irritated Ellara that she would have to once again use her magic on Olsen when he likely had nothing of use in his head about when, how, and why Yami and Teris had come to suspect her.

Olsen was the one good and true relationship Ellara had in her life.  She couldn’t even say that of her husband and Master who she grew to fear more and more ever since Yami and Teris’ first clash of magic. Alowishus would probably order her back to Sanctuary if she told him Yami and Teris suspected her.  Ellara wasn’t ready for that.  It wasn’t just the freedom she enjoyed and her care for Olsen.  She truly believed in the new beginning that would follow the end of this existence.  Her position as Sir Jorah’s Advisor could still be of use to the Agents of Chaos and their cause.

Teris looked uneasy when Ellara didn’t draw closer and activate the charm right away.  No Name began to stir.

Olsen, who was several meters away from the Saber Wolf, took another step back.  “Ellara, my beauty.  I really rather not be around that beast when it wakes.  Can we get it back in its cell and continue with our night?”

“Get over here then.”  Ellara said, her once happy mood soured.

Olsen stepped to her side,  They appeared in the empty pen.

Yami visibly relaxed at the sight of Teris.

Olsen rushed out of the kennel.  Ellara followed, eager to be away from Yami and Teris.  Yami closed and latched the pens gate after Teris exited.

Giving his Vice Captain's a wave, Olsen once again stepped beside Ellara. “Don’t wait up.”

Yami waited until Olsen and Ellara vanished before making his way to Teris.  Resting his forehead against the side of her head, he closed his eyes in relief.  It hadn’t been a long delay.  But at the time, it had felt like eternity while he waited for the Advisor to return with Teris.

“I worry about him.”  Teris said of Olsen.

Still lost in his relief, Yami murmured.  “Would you marry me if I asked?”

Teris’ breath caught.  Blinking several times, she swallowed.  “I—I don’t know.  Are you asking?”

Yami pulled his head back, coming back to himself.  “Not yet.”

He thought of the funds he was saving for essence rings.  Thanks to the bump in pay becoming Vice Captain brought in, he was close to affording the rings despite his savings being severely depleted when he had to pay Nathyn Silva and Cin.  But he wasn’t quite there yet. He had enough that he could probably have the rings in hand and make payments.  But he wasn’t about to ask Teris for her hand with something he didn’t own outright.

“Yami... I can’t get married until this other mess is worked out.”  Teris told him.

“The one where you’re expected to marry Bird Man?  Or the one with the Agents of Crazies?”

Teris smirked lightly at his knack for names.  “The first.  Though the second would be nice too.”

Yami couldn’t help but nod at that.  The thing with Nozel would come to a head when Teris turned twenty.  He could only hope that they would have beaten and caught Alowishus and his lunatics well before then.

“Not to mention, I don’t know how I’d feel essentially being betrothed to two men.”  Teris added.

“That one’s easy.  You wouldn’t be.  You’ve said it yourself countless times.  You’re not his Intended.  What Fyntch and the Silva’s want has nothing to do with who you’re promised to.  Only you have a say in that.”  Yami watched Teris mull over his words. “Why don’t we table this for when I ask in truth?”

“If you ever do ask in truth.  Can you do it when I don’t smell of beast and sweat?”  Teris requested, her wording careful to not presume on him or his plans for the future.

Yami noticed her care but chose to ignore it.  Time.  Not words.  Would prove he meant what he said about marrying her.

Staring at her, Yami told.  “I can guarantee you when I ask I won’t care one lick what you smell like.  Although,” he gave an exaggerated sniff and wrinkled his his, “you really could use a bath.”

Teris gave him a playful shove.  “You should talk.  You smell just as bad as I do.”

Yami shrugged.  “I’m a guy.  I can get away with it.”

“You get away with far too much as it is.”  Teris told.

Desirous eyes raking over her, Yami grinned.  “Hardly.”

Teris shook her head.  “You’re terrible.”

“But you love me anyway.”  Yami grinned.

“I do.”  Teris told.  “I love you.”

Lifting a hand, Yami brushed her cheek.  “Stinky as you are, you mean the world to me.”

Teris huffed, giving him another playful shove.

Yami didn’t budge.  Instead he grabbed her, pulling her to him.  Arms wrapping around her, Yami held her close, chin resting on her head.

“I’m worried about Olsen.”  Teris uttered, into his chest.

Yami’s lips pressed against the crown of her head.  “I’d be more worried about us.”

“I would be too.”  Came a voice from the woods.

Yami and Teris turned.  Releasing her, Yami’s left hand gripped his scabbard, right hand hovering over his katana’s hilt.

Stepping silently through the leaf litter, Iban entered the clearing, and stopped a few paces in front of them.

Yami glowered at the Blood Mage.  The fact that Iban could so easily shield his Ki certainly didn’t help the mans creep factor.  Teris was only able to do it because he had taught her, much to his later regret.  Iban had received no such lessons; yet had been able to do it from day one.

Right hand lowering, Yami asked.  “Shall I unlock the kennels and see which beast kills the other first, mine or Olsen’s?”

“Your creatures would have no hope even if that woman hadn’t knocked them out.”  Iban replied.

“You were stalking Ellara.”  Yami said, realization dawning.

“I make it a point to know whenever that woman is near.”  Iban said. He looked at the Vice Captain's.  “You’re wary of me, and rightly so.  Just know that there are far worse things than me hanging about. And unlike me, they don’t all present themselves as they truly are.”

Teris stepped toward Iban.  Yami grabbed her arm, stopping her from getting too near the man.

“You mean besides the Wizard Kings Advisor?”  Teris asked, wondering though not surprised someone like Iban had some idea how dangerous Ellara was.

“She’s certainly the worst and currently most dangerous of them.  But yes. There are others.”  Iban said.

“Interested in us?  Or just bad people?  Who are they?  Are they Magic Knights?”

“Teris!” Yami moved in front of her, staring her in the eye.  Information costed with people like Iban, and always left one paying far more than they got.  Yami had used his position and threats to get what little he had out of the man.  But he had also known when to stop. When the free answers ended and the tab was ready to run.

“Those answers will require something in return.”  Iban told.

“Such as?”  Teris questioned, looking over Yami’s shoulder.

“Teris. Stop.”  Yami commanded.

Teris met Yami’s stern gaze and questioned.  “What does asking what he wants in exchange hurt?”

“Your fellow co-Vice Captain has a point.  After all, you came into my humble lab a few months back asking a similar, all be it very different question.”  Iban reminded Yami.

Teris’ eyes fixed on Yami.  “What’s he talking about?  What’d you ask him?”

Yami glared over his shoulder at Iban and answered shortly.  “Nothing.”

Teris frowned, pulling away from him.  “What happened to being able to tell each other anything?”

Head snapping back, Yami reached for her.  “Teris--”

Teris took another step back, eyes hardening.

“I’ll explain when--”  Yami paused.  He wasn’t one to feel shame, but he worried what Teris would think of him if she knew he had considered being party to some black magic spell.  He didn’t want her to look at him differently.  Though the way she was looking at him now didn’t feel very good either.

“Tell me what you wanted from Iban.”  Teris pressed.

“Later. It’s--”

“Answers will cost you a simple blood sample.”  Iban spoke over Yami, answering Teris’ earlier question.

“No.” Yami snapped, looking over his shoulder at the Blood Mage.

Teris looked passed Yami at Iban.  “What do you want my blood for?”

Yami turned back to her.  “Teris.  No.”

Teris ignored him and told Iban.  “Never mind, I don’t want to know. But I could order you and make you tell me.”

Iban stepped forward, smiling.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Yami spun around, facing the Blood Mage.  “Get near her and I’ll kill you twice over.”

Iban caught the split second flicker of Yami’s eyes turning black.  He took a step back.  “Seeing as you might be able to.  I’ll take my leave.”

Yami watched Iban take another step back and then another.  His angry tension didn’t ease even when Iban turned around and headed up the trail.  Once the man was gone, Yami rounded on Teris.  “What the hell was that!”

“You tell me!”  Teris demanded.

“Tell you what?  That he can’t be trusted?  You know that.”

“Yet you went down to his lab?  Why?  When?  What was your question?” Teris’ eyes searched his for some signed of answer, but Yami had closed himself off from her.  She blinked. taking a step back.  “I see.”

Yami reached for her.  “No.  Teris.  You don’t--”

She backed away, voice rising in hurt anger.  “You’re fine asking me to tell you everything.  You tell me to trust you.  Tell Gendry that you can’t guarantee to keep his secrets from me.  But when it comes to you and your secrets it’s a different matter.”

Yami’s hand dropped to his side.  Her wounded, angry expression making his heart clench.  “Teris...  You don’t understand, Ikigai.”

Teris didn’t even react to the foreign tongued endearment.  “I understand all too well, all be it a little too late.”  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she told.  “I was ordered by Jax, Julius, and Greywright not to repeat what I told you about Zara’s death. Do you realize what could happen if they found out I told you?”

Yami’s eyebrows furrowed.  “How are they going to find out?  I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“So I guess I was right to trust you?”

Yami would've been less hurt if someone had stabbed him.  “Of course you were.  How can you say that?”

Eyes stinging, Teris’ whispered voice caught.  “I wish you felt the same and trusted me.”

“I do!  Ter--”  Yami squinted against the burst of Teris’ light travel.  “Mana fucking—  Damn it!”

Spinning around, Yami hit one of the thick metal posts of the training pen. The solid beam bent and leaned over, loosened from its anchor in the ground.

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day.  Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

“Vice Captain.  To what do I owe--”  Iban’s words were cut off, Yami spinning him around.

Large, strong hand wrapping around Iban’s throat, Yami pushed the man back against the table and squeezed.  “What are you playing at telling Teris I came down here asking questions?”

#yami sukehiro #Black Clover #light in the darkness

[qqueenofhades]

Question for you. When you have time. And if you want. I know things are busy for you. What do you mean by end stage capitalism? Thanks.

Aha. I am sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for a while, since I’ve been busy and doing stressful things and not sure how to answer this in a way that wouldn’t immediately turn into a pages-long rant. Nothing to do with you, of course, but just because I have 800 things to say on this topic, none of them complimentary, which I’ll try to condense down briefly. Ish.

In sum, end-stage capitalism is at the root of everything that’s wrong with the world today, more or less. It’s the state of being that exists when the economic system of capitalism, i.e. the exchange of money for goods and services, has become so runaway, so unregulated, so elevated to the level of unchallengeable dogma in the Western world (especially after the Cold War and decades of hysteria about the “scourge of communism”) and so embedded on every level of the social and political fabric that it is no longer sustainable but also can’t be destroyed without taking everything else down. Nobody wants to be the actual generation that lives through the fall of capitalism, because it’s going to be cataclysmic on every level, but also… we can’t go on like this. So that’s a fun paradox. The current world order is so drastically, unimaginably, ridiculously and wildly unequal, privileging the tiny elite of the ultra-rich over the rest of the planet, because of hypercapitalism. This really got going in the early 1980s when Ronald Reagan, still generally worshiped as a political hero on both the left and right sides of the American political establishment (even liberals tiptoe around criticizing Saint Ronnie), set into motion a program of slashing business and environment regulations, reducing or eliminating taxes on the super wealthy, and introducing the concept of “trickle-down” or “supply-side” economics. In short, the principle holds that if you make it as easy as possible for rich people to become EVEN MORE RICH, and remove all irksome regulations or restrictions on the Church of the Free Market, they will benevolently redistribute this largess to the little people. To say the very least, this….does not happen. Ever.

Since the 1980s, in short, we have had thirty years of unrestricted, runaway capitalism that eventually propelled us into the financial crisis of 2008, after multiple smaller crises, where the full extent of this philosophy became apparent…. and nobody really did anything about it. You can google statistics about how the price of everything has skyrocketed since about the 1970s, when you could put yourself through college on one part-time job, graduate with no student debt, and be assured of a job for the next 30 years, and how baby boomers (who are responsible for wrecking the economy) insist that millennials are “just lazy” or “killing [insert x industry]”. This is because we have NO GODDAMN MONEY, graduate thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt (if we can even afford college in the first place), are lucky if we find a job that pays us more than $10 an hour, and often have to string together several part-time and frangible jobs that offer absolutely nothing in the way of security, benefits, or long-term saving potential. This is why millennials at large don’t have kids, buy houses, or have any savings (or any of the traditional “adult” milestones). We just don’t have the money for it.

Even more, capitalism has taken over our mindsets to the point where it is, as I said, at the root of everything that’s wrong with the world. Climate change? Won’t be fixed because the ruling classes are making money from the current system, and if you really want to give yourself an aneurysm, google the profiteers who can’t wait for the environment/society to collapse because they’ll make MORE money off it. This is known as “disaster capitalism” and is what the US has done to other countries for decades. (I also recommend The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein.) This obviously directly contributes to the War on Terror, the current global instability, the reason Dick Cheney, Halliburton, Blackwater, and other private-security contractors made a mint from blowing up Iraq and paying themselves to rebuild it, and then the resultant rise of al-Qaeda, ISIS, and other extremist reactionary groups. The bombing produces (often brown and Muslim) refugees and immigrants, Western countries won’t take them in, right-wing politicians make hay out of Threats To Our Way of Life ™, and the circle goes on. Gun control? Can’t happen because a) American white supremacy is too deeply tied to its paranoid right to have as many guns as it wants and to destroy the Other at any time, and b) the NRA pays senators by the gigabucks to make sure it doesn’t. (And we all know what an absolute goddamn CLUSTERFUCK the topic of big money and American politics is in the first place. It’s just… a nightmare in every direction.)

Meanwhile, end-stage capitalism has also systematically assigned value to society and to individuals depending entirely on their prospects for monetization. Someone who can’t work, or who doesn’t work the “right” job, is thus assigned less value as a human (see all the right-wing screaming about people who “don’t deserve” to have any kind of social and financial assistance or subsidized food and medicine if they won’t “help themselves”). This is how we get to situations where we have the ads that I kept seeing in London the other month: apps where you could share your leftover food, or rent out your own car, or collectively rent an apartment, or whatever else. Because apparently if you live in London in 2019, there is no expectation that you will be able to have your own food, car, or apartment. You have to crowdsource it. (See also: people having to beg strangers on the internet for money for food or medical bills, and strangers on the internet doing more to help that person than the whole system and/or the person’s employment or living situation.) There is nothing inherently wrong with capitalism as an economic theory. Exchanging money for goods and services is understandable and it works. But when it has run out of control to this degree, when the people who suffer the most under it fiercely defend it (see the working-class white people absolutely convinced that the reason for their problems is Those Damn Job Stealing Immigrants), when it only works for the interests of a few uber-privileged few and is actively killing everyone else… yeah.

Let’s put it this way. You will likely have heard of the two fatal crashes of Boeing 737 Max airplanes in recent months: the Lion Air crash in October 2018 and the Ethiopian Airlines crash in March 2019. Together, they killed 346 people. After these crashes, it turned out that the same malfunctioning system was responsible for both, and that Boeing had known of the problem before the Max went on the market. But because they needed to make (even more) money and compete with their rivals, Airbus, they had sent the planes ahead anyway, with unclear and confusing instruction to pilots about how to deal with it, and generally not acknowledging the problem and insisting (as they still do) that the plane was safe, even though it’s been grounded worldwide since March. There are also concerns that the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) is too deep in Boeing’s pocket to provide an impartial ruling (and America was the last country to ground the plane), and other countries’ aviation safety bodies have announced that they aren’t just going to take the FAA’s word for it whenever they decide that the Max is safe. This almost never happens, since usually international regulatory bodies, especially in aviation, will accept each other’s standards. But because of Boeing’s need for Even More Money, they put a plane on the market and into commercial passenger service that they knew had problems, and the FAA essentially let them do that and isn’t entirely trusted to ensure that they won’t do it again. Because…. value for the shareholders. Or something. This is the extreme example of what I mean when I say that end-stage capitalism is actively killing people.

It is also doing so on longer-term and more pernicious everyday levels. See above where people can’t afford their basic expenses even on several jobs, see the insulin price-gouging in the US (and the big pharma efforts in general to make drugs and healthcare as expensive as possible), see the way any kind of welfare or social assistance is framed as “lazy” or “bad” or “socialist,” see the way that people are basically only allowed to survive if they can pay for it, and the way that circle is becoming smaller and smaller. The American public is also fed enduring folk “wisdom” about “money doesn’t buy happiness,” the belief that poverty serves to build character or as an example of virtue, or so on, to make them feel proud of being poor/deprived/that they’re doing a good thing by actively supporting this system that is responsible for their own suffering. And yet for example, the Nordic countries (while obviously having other problems of their own) maintain the Scandinavian welfare model, which pays for college and healthcare, provides for individual stipends/basic income, allows generous leave for parenthood, emphasises a unionised workplace, and otherwise prescribes a mix of capitalism, social democracy, and social mobility. All the Nordic countries rank highly for human development, overall happiness, and other measurements of social success. But especially in America, any suggestion of “socialism” is treated like heresy, and unions are a dirty word. That is changing, but…slowly.

In short: the economic overlords have never done anything to give power, money, or anything at all to the working class without being repeatedly and explicitly forced, they have no good will or desire to treat the poor like humans (see: Amazon) or anything at all that doesn’t increase their already incomprehensible profit margins. The pursuit of more money that cannot possibly be spent in one human lifetime, that is accumulated, used to make laws for itself, and never paid in taxes to fund improvements or services for everyone else, lies at the root of pretty much every problem you can name in the world right now, is deeply, deeply evil, and I do not use that word lightly.

#politics for ts #rant #long post #that...wasn't super brief #but i could have gone on for a while longer #/drinks heavily and passes out #anonymous #ask

[kittensjonsa]

Trophy Wife

Another day, another detective-lawyer tag team duo Jonsa AU nobody asked for lol. Has this been done before? No idea but for some reason, this was dying to get out of my system, so I just had to -so please bear with it. Or not, up to you (trigger warning below). 

Summary: Sansa needs help in bringing down one of the worst criminals of the century - and save her abducted best friend. Jon, a shy elusive private investigator offers a helping hand. Sparks fly when things heat up, while going undercover. *winks*

Rated NC-17 to E for language and content. Major trigger warning for abuse (various). I am neither a lawyer nor a PI so forgive me if I get some of the terms wrong. Part One of (maybe, let’s see) Three. Enjoy! x

---

Part One

Eviction. Jon hated that word. He hated hearing it, hated being threatened by it and now there it was, written all over his door on a notice in red capital letters. Fuck you too, he thought as he tore off the paper. I'll say when I'll go. This was not a time for moving houses or looking for a new place. He was busy, there were things to do and places to hide in. If only they could spare him a couple more months, that was all he needed, if the rent he owed was correct in his head. Jon had lived in his car once and he couldn't live through that again.

Besides, he was on a roll. At least, he'd like to think so. Clients were coming in and he had more jobs that he did a year ago. Of course, that was largely due to his success in uncovering the biggest scandal in all of Westeros - involving the Lannisters and a certain pair of twins who had relations with one another, in a biblical sense, or so it seemed. It did not help one bit when the Lannisters were also the family everyone loved to hate, and Jon probably did the country a huge favour when the news went public. Within days, it was reported that any Lannisters who planned to run for government office were rejected, shunned and ridiculed. So much so, that they went into hiding. Good riddance.

You reap what you sow. They had it coming, Jon told himself. And truthfully, he relished every second of it, bringing down the notorious family - such a satisfying accomplishment it was. It was just ironic that a member of the Lannister family had hired him, turning the evidence into a weapon and declaring war against the Lannister legacy. So much for a happy family.

The pay check from the Lannister job was substantial enough and managed to pay his debts that he owed but when it came to maintaining the business, the cash quickly ran out. Furthermore, it did not help that his clients would only pay once they had received proof that their suspicions were right all along, which took some time. Jon hadn't even counted his gas money and meals during stake outs or the electricity bills that soared after spending late nights playing and watching video tapes over and over. Surveillance was a costly, slow and painstaking process but essential, in getting the dough and the job done.

Maybe I'm too nice. Jon wished he had stipulated a clause in his contract that required a deposit before he accepted any assignments. But frail crying wives desperate to get out of loveless marriages were not people he wanted to take advantage of and a lawyer, he was not. If he had a therapist licence, perhaps it would be more useful in bringing in the bucks. Still, through word of mouth, steadily the business grew - apparently, spying on people was a lucrative outfit. Jon couldn't recall earning this much when he worked at his former security firm at Castle Black.

“So, you'll do it?” the gentleman asked, sliding an envelope towards him. Jon opened it and took a peek, in it had a flash drive and a rolled up wad of cash, which looked like a few thousands.

“I would. But you must know that I work best alone,” Jon agreed.

“Oh no. Not for this one. It will be difficult to crack this one without a partner.”

Smart ass. Trying to tell me how to do my job. The cash looks good though. It'll help tide over a couple of things.

“All right. So I need a partner. You have to give me some time to look for one. And that's going to cost you, you know that right?”

The gentleman smiled and drummed his fingers on the dining table. “Oh, I know that. But what if I already have a partner for you? She's ready to work on this with you.”

“She? Whoa.. back up for a second. I didn't say I needed female partner. Besides, this isn't a job for a lady, if what you told me is true.”

“Trust me, she's on board with this a hundred percent. I trust her to do the job, above and beyond.”

Jon was still reluctant. The quick and easy cash advance had come with its own conditions. “Okay. Does she have a name? I'd have to do background checks, you know and all of that, for safety reasons.”

“Of course. All you need on her is on the flash drive in there,” he pointed to the envelope Jon was resting his hands on. “Besides, she's my niece.”

“Your what? And you're okay with her getting involved?”

He nodded and turned his attention back to his newly refilled coffee. Jon couldn't believe his ears. What kind of uncle are you?

“She feels as strongly about this than just about anyone. Maybe more. And she volunteered. I suppose she has her reasons. How can I say no that?”

“Yeah... but we're investigating an alleged sex ring. Are we not? Seems a little inappropriate, don't you think?” Jon whispered as he leaned in, wondering what kind of shenanigans people are up to these days.

Jon watched as he put down his mug and adjusted the glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He didn't strike Jon as a sleazeball, the kind who would sell and pimp anything or anyone to make a buck. He was mysterious yet friendly, sophisticated yet ruggedly worn, as if he had seen enough ills in his lifetime.

“A human trafficking ring, to be exact. We've been trying to go after them for years but they get away with it every time. You know why? Because all evidence pointing to them were ruled inadmissible. Come on, you've read about it in the papers, on the news. Day in, day out we built the case and every time we find something worthwhile, another detail or another statement comes up and render the leads useless.”

It was true. It was all over the media - the Boltons and the Freys accused of allegedly running an illegal sex trade. But to Jon, it seemed that there was all there was to it. People wanting to have a bit of fun at a party isn’t that new or illegal, he thought, even though he depised the Boltons and the Freys as much as the next decent guy on the street. Unless of course, if the ring was made up of abducted girls or worse, minors. That would truly be despicable and one that warranted medieval torture and capital punishment. This is going to be quite the undertaking, Jon suddenly realised.

“Have you considered going to the police... or your client going to the police for help? Instead of a private investigator.”

Jon waited for an answer as both their eyes met, one was smiling and the other was not.

“You don't think the police isn't involved in this? Not investigating, no that. We have reason to believe that members of the police are themselves the perpetrators. I'm talking high ranking officials, son. So, you see why we have to.. approach this in another way.”

“Okay, I see your point. All right then. I'll need to meet this niece of yours, so I can clue her in on how to go about this. Though, I'm not sure how it'll work.”

“I am sure you'll try your best. Believe me, Jon, if we win this case, it'll be the biggest one yet. It's something greater than all of us. It's for the greater good. I can't quite discuss names or details than what I've just told you or who my client is but the money? There's more where that came from. Here's my card, should you need anything.”

Jon looked at the name card. “ Well, you sold me there. We'll be in touch, Mr Stark.”

“Likewise, Jon. Oh, and call me Ben. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Jon watched as Benjen Stark left the diner and into his Mercedes, as he contemplated his next step. This was a big job, and Benjen was right, he probably could not handle it alone. Still, Jon was curious and intrigued, wondering whom his partner was.

Jon jolted up from his bed when the doorbell rang. It was only eight in the morning and Jon did not recall ordering anything that required an early morning delivery. Ugh, what..

Jon stumbled out of bed, clad only in yesterday's jeans and stepping on notes scattered everywhere in his room. His living room wasn't spared either, with boxes of carefully labelled tapes stacked haphazardly in every corner.

“Jon Snow? Hi, I'm Sansa Stark. My uncle.. he spoke with you yesterday..”

Jon rubbed his eyes and squinted at the blurry figure in front of him. His eyes were stubbornly still asleep. Slowly but gradually, in the few minutes that it took for Jon to recover from his sleep-ridden stupor, his vision came round and found himself gazing at a tall redhead standing before him. Whoa.. okay.

“Bad time? I can come back later,” she said, sheepish at the sight of a sleepy half naked man yawning at her.

“No.. wait. You're the niece? Of Benjen?” Jon said, as memories from last night's meeting came to mind.

Sansa nodded. “The very one. He says I'll be working with you. On the case?”

It was way too early to be discussing details about work or anything, really and Jon needed a cup of good strong black coffee to stay awake. Shouldn't have read the file at three in the morning.

“Right. Come on in.” Jon opened the door wider as he led her into the living room. Sansa accepted the invite, albeit with caution as she stepped in, carefully steering clear of the boxes and files around her. 

“Pardon the mess, I don't get visitors much. Coffee?” Jon apologized as he helped himself to a cup of chilled coffee from the fridge. It was a norm now, keeping coffee from the night before, to save money. It didn't taste as good as freshly brewed coffee but it woke him nonetheless.

“Uhh.. no thanks. Water's fine.”

Jon watched the lady seated on his couch waiting politely for him to finish. He had gone through the file on her as Benjen had given. Graduated with honours at the top of her class at University of Westeros' Law School. Interned for two years at one of the top firms right after graduation and now a junior partner at Stark, Tully & Reed. Perhaps one of the most fascinating fact was that Sansa Stark had been on the prosecuting team in the 'Lannister vs the people' case. It was no wonder the Starks had come looking for him. He guessed he probably didn't need any further introductions, for now.

“So, how about we start about why you're here, Miss Stark,” Jon said, handing her a glass of tap water.

Sansa thanked him as she took the glass from his hand and set it down on an empty spot on the cluttered coffee table.

“Sansa, please. First of all, I apologize for not letting you know that I was coming. I did call and text yesterday but I suppose you were asleep. It was late anyway. Sorry about that.”

Jon then remembered his phone, which was now likely dead since he forgot to charge it. Oops.

“Oh, did you? Lately been trying to kind of de-plug every once in a while. But yeah, I might have fallen asleep too. Had some notes to go through and kind of forgot about my phone. My bad.”

Sansa smiled and took a small sip of water. “Oh.. that's all right. Anyway, let's start over. I'm Sansa Stark and I'll be working with you. I believe my uncle has filled you in? Pleased to meet you, Mr Jon Snow.” Sansa offered her hand.

Jon returned the handshake with a wary smile. “Pleasure's all mine. And please, Sansa, call me Jon. So, I'm guessing you know what we're working with?”

“I do. I was the one who put it together so I should know more about it than anyone.”

Benjen said he couldn't share details about who the client was and now Jon was curious. Sansa Stark seemed a force to be reckoned with - coming up and putting together a case of this magnitude could either be the ruin or the highlight of her law career.

“I see. Well, I must say I'm impressed. But you do know this can be dangerous work, right? If what your uncle says is true.”

“If it means saving hundreds from a cruel fate then I'm all for it. Besides-”

A loud rumbling growl startled Sansa to a pause mid sentence.

Jon's cheeks reddened, patting his stomach. “Umm..Do you think we could talk about this over breakfast? I.. I had a light dinner yesterday.”

Sansa bit down her lip as tried to stifle her giggle. This man is hilarious. Cute though. She didn't mind at all working alongside him. “Sure. I'm buying.”

Awesome. I don't mind it at all. Nothing more Jon loved than rich people willing to spend. But a cheap greasy diner breakfast with all the works was just what he needed right now. He can think of other fancy things later.

“I hope you don't mind. Not many fancy places around here,” Jon pointed to a booth in the diner, right in a corner where he usually sat every day and night. Grenn, the owner and chef who was also a friend and neighbour, made sure it was always empty and reserved just for him.

Sansa beamed at him, her striking blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. “Are you kidding me? Diners are the best. The only places that helped through mid terms and finals. And man, they were gruelling. I would retreat to a diner and have a chocolate banana milkshake whenever things got a little tough. This.. is nice.”

Jon felt at ease immediately. Something told him he was going to have a great time working the case.

“So, tell me. Why 'Trophy Wife'? I mean, can't you call it what it is?” Jon asked, in between mouthfuls of bacon and French toast.

“Well, it's a code word you know. Human trafficking, sex ring.. these are terms people are not comfortable hearing, especially in public or in an office. Besides, not many people know about it and it is absolutely crucial that it stays that way. Too much information shared with anyone else won’t be good for us. Plus, I think it's also because.. it seems the victims are forced and paraded as wives of these predators. You know, so it seems legit. But that’s just a guess. I know deep down, there's nothing legitimate about it.” 

“Good point.” Jon concurred, shoving the last piece of French toast into his mouth. 

“You want to hear a story? We actually managed to get hold of a marriage certificate, you know, one that shared a victim's name on it. But get this - it was fake. There was no such church nor was there any minister with that name. It was a bust.”

“Yikes. Okay, so that should be proof enough right? I mean, right there is already fraud.”

Sansa sighed. “Yeah, up until someone accused us of fabricating the marriage certificate. I mean, we couldn't use it at all since it was fake. It definitely derailed the investigation for a while and it was the only promising lead we had. I believe there are still many. Out there. We just have to make sure the case won't go cold.”

Jon had to ask, seeing how fired up Sansa seemed about the whole thing. “Can I ask you something? If you don't mind my asking. Why this? I mean there are so many easier cases out there waiting.. but why this one?”

Sansa looked at him and looked away, turning towards the window.

“Jeyne Poole was twenty five years old when she went missing last year. Next month would be her seventh month missing. Her parents are worried sick and her mom had a stroke because of it. Jeyne was last seen at her place of work and that was it. She just disappeared and dropped from the face of the earth. That's not Jeyne to pull something like that.”

“What do you mean?”

Jon's furrowed brows prompted her further. “She's my age and my best friend, Jon. And no matter what, I have to search for her. Whether she's dead or alive.”

Jon was no stranger to hearing heavily personal details and he thought he could handle all the doom and gloom thrown his way, but this had him a little shaken up.

If he wasn't convinced before, he was sure as hell now. It was a dark treacherous path ahead but Sansa was a woman on a mission. And Jon knew well already, not to get in her way.

“Right. So, what do you need from me?”

It was a quiet walk back to his apartment as the brevity of the situation started to sink in. He may be a mediocre private investigator but a mediocre human being, he was not planning to be. Armed with new information and Sansa's fervour rubbing off on him, Jon was determined to find and annihilate the fuckers, if they really were the Boltons and the Freys, even better. Two less scumbags in the world would be a huge win; they won’t be missed. Sansa and him would be saving, hopefully, not just Jeyne Poole but dozens of vulnerable young women from the very clutches of evil itself.

“I can share the workload with you, if you want. You know, go over the details, help out on surveillance, research all that stuff,” Sansa suggested, as she flipped through the pages of the folder Jon had compiled. It had only a couple of handwritten notes with addresses and names along with documents he printed from the flash drive he was given. He was keen to find some kind of link and honestly, two brains were definitely better than one for it.

“Don't you have a job to attend to? I mean, I don't mind the help but I don't think it's fair that I take you away from what pays your bills. If... you do that sort of thing.”

Sansa shrugged. “One of the perks of living with your parents, I guess, is not paying bills and still having a roof over your head. I've got some money saved and since this is my case, I managed to get an expense budget for it. So, that's covered I guess.”

Jon scoffed. Rich people. “And this expense budget... is from your client?”

“I am not at liberty to say but up to you what to believe. All I know is, what we need for this case, is settled and paid for. Nothing is spared.”

Must be nice being rich.

“Well, you don't say, this client could give us a temporary office to work in, no? I mean, I don't mind doing it out if my house but-”

“You're being evicted in less than two weeks. I know. I had some checks done on you, Jon. Safety reasons, I'm sure you know. But granted, it's not ideal, But I think we may have just the place.. I mean, for the time being. Though.. it's going to take some work and I'll brief you on that soon.” Sansa offered as Jon unlocked his apartment door.

“Okay..that’s a first for me. I mean, if it’s no imposition, I-”

“Yeah, it’s totally fine. But hey love to chat but I kinda have to go. Can I take this with me? I'll make you a copy,” Sansa grabbed the folder and walked up to the door, casually glazing over the bit where he was about to be homeless soon. Damn lawyers.

“I was going to pay, you know. It's just that I had to settle other bills first,” Jon explained, though it was futile knowing who he was talking to.

“That's all right. Doesn't make you a bad person. You had priorities, it's understandable. Although if you’re planning on living in your car, I don't think all the boxes in your living room would fit.”

It didn't faze Jon how she had known about him living in his car once upon a hard time and he couldn't agree more. He couldn't exactly afford a storage unit either since the material he had was sensitive and would spell trouble if anything got lost or stolen.

“So, I'll show you the new place? You can come pick up your stuff later this weekend if you want.”

Jon found himself with renewed enthusiasm, relieved that he said yes to the assignment. Whatever tomorrow brings, he'll face it head on, with a swanky new roof over his head. 

Bring it on.

#jonsa #jonsa x sansa #jonsa au #jonsa fic #crime fighting jonsa #super sansa #jon is kind of a sidekick but a good one #jon snow is a feminist in my aus #trigger warning: various kinds of abuse #modern jonsa au

[kilodalton]

So I see a post from TikTok making its way around Tumblr about how prior authorizations are awful and corporatist and stand in the way of mom, America, apple pie, unsuspecting patients, and their earnest and well-meaning doctors. Bring out the guillotines etc etc.

I made it through the first 5 seconds of that video before rolling my eyes because frankly, dude doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

For the purposes of this diatribe informational post, PA means “prior authorization” NOT physicians assistant. So if I say “PAs suck” please do take that into consideration before reaming me out.

Ok so what are my credentials to spout off on this?

1) You can call me Dr. Kilodalton. I’m a double-board certified clinical pharmacist with a doctorate in my field on top of 2 years of post-doc residencies.

2) I work for one of the largest single-payer government systems in the world. I have ZILCH to do with corporations, capitalism, or guillotines. (I’ll let you guess .. cannot confirm nor deny my employer lol) ... which leads to:

3) I evaluate prior authorization requests as part of my job every single day. I approve them! I deny them! I sometimes say “get a load of this boneheaded request!!” and make fun of them to my colleagues! YES SINGLE-PAYER SYSTEM USE PAS JUST AS MUCH IF NOT MORE THAN CORPORATIONS DO! Hell, I even submit some PAs myself if I think one of my patients can benefit.

All of this EMINENTLY qualifies me to say, much more so than some dude on TikTok whose voice hasn’t even cracked yet: PAs are (usually) a necessary evil.

Why do I speak this BLASPHEMY?! This SACRILEGE?!? Am I a corporate shill (who doesn’t work for a corporation) who hates patients (even though I devote my career to their care) and wants poor people to die (even though I work for a single-payer system that treats people regardless of ability to pay?)

The answer is easy: I actually ... kinda know what I’m talking about. Here are some facts:

PAs can save your life: PAs are usually required for risky drugs. Just because a drug is risky does not mean the underlying disease state it is treating always balances the risk. A lot of times, safer drugs are available.

PAs are almost universally required for shiny new drugs that Big Pharma is trying to line their pockets with: New drugs get advertised all the time. Patients ask their prescribers for the drugs. The prescribers often don’t know any better and put in PA requests for them. Stunningly often, there is no reason given for the request other than “patient saw the ad on TV and asked me about it.” Yes. Seriously. If you guys support that ... you must own a LOT of pharma stock.  

PAs make things less expensive (usually). Because PA drugs are usually brand new, brand name only, and expensive AF, requiring a PA brings down costs for the system as a whole. This matters a lot -- even in a single payer organization like mine. By giving everyone -- regardless if they need it or not -- expensive drugs, less money is available to help other people. Money doesn’t grow on trees, even in single payer systems.

Your docs -- especially your primary care docs -- usually know jack squat about drugs: You would (probably) be appalled to learn that your average MD takes 2 pharmaceutical modules in med school. That’s it. Usually (but not always), specialists are much better about knowing their stuff ... but your average first-line doc does not have the training to determine what meds should be used when, how to assess their efficacy, how to monitor them, and when to triage to a specialist.

PAs make sure your doc is monitoring you the way they should: This falls through the cracks A LOT. If you are on a fancy drug that requires a PA, you probably assume your doc is regularly checking to make sure that, among other things, your kidneys can cope with the dose. Shockingly few docs do this (well it’s not shocking to ME that they don’t check, but I see it every damn day). PAs help us make sure that requested doses are safe -- often, they are not.

PAs make sure you actually have the condition your doctor says you have: I cannot stress this enough. It seems crazy, but it’s true. If you tell your doctor “I have ABC condition” they will likely add it to your medical record, even without testing you for it or looking at previous medical records you have. The problem is, sometimes you really don’t have ABC condition ... so if they try to prescribe you a drug for ABC condition when they have not independently confirmed you have it, problems can (and do) arise.

Here are just a few examples off the top of my head of boneheaded PAs I’ve happily denied. Trust me, there are LOADS more where this comes from. My former office mate and I used to half-joke we should write a freaking book. Anyway, on to the dumb PAs that TikTok dude would have me rubberstamp because TheyComeFromADoctor:

The one that would have given a patient a stroke. One MD wrote a PA for short-acting nifedipine -- a blood pressure drug that is only given inpatient because, unless closely monitored, it basically causes your blood pressure to ping-pong, ischemia to develop, and voila a stroke. I denied it because I wanted the patient to ... uh, ya know, live.

The one for dementia in a patient who did not have dementia. Some drugs are basically one-trick ponies. Rivastigmine is used for a few things -- mainly dementia, but very specific kinds. It can actually WORSEN cognition in some kinds of dementia. Which is why docs are supposed to get an actual diagnosis before prescribing such things. If I had a dime for every time they don’t check ... I would have a crap ton of dimes.

The high-intensity blood thinner for a patient whose blood ... was thinning just fine on its own. For whatever reason, a patient thought they might have a clotting condition and told their doctor. Their doctor, who didn’t double check this, and ordered them a mega blood thinner that requires a PA. We asked for test results, and lucky we did -- the patient was clotting just fine on their own, and use of this drug in that population can lead to hemorrhage.

The one that was causing an autoimmune reaction in a patient. Some drugs cause the body to attack itself, and you need to check for antibodies before you prescribe it. One doc ordered the antibody test but apparently didn’t check the results before ordering the drug for the patient ... uh. Yeah. Hard nope on that one.

The one that would have caused an overdose. Some narcotics require PAs. One doc apparently can’t math very well, and ordered a huge narcotic dose for an opioid-naive patient. Luckily a PA was required: obviously, I quashed it.

The one that would have harmed a pregnant patient. Some drugs can’t be used in pregnancy. Some docs don’t think to ask if a patient is pregnant before trying to prescribe drugs linked to fetal malformations. Luckily, I picked up the phone to double-check with the patient when I saw no recent pregnancy test in her chart. Guess what?! 

Anyway. This post is not sexy. This post is not fun. This post is not pro-pharma, and this post is not pro-corporate (again -- hello!! I work for a single payer here!!) 

What this post IS -- is chock full of inconvenient information from a person who actually is in student loan debt to her eyeballs because she kinda knows what she’s talking about.

And hopefully - HOPEFULLY -- this post is also helpful to someone.

Much love -- Dr. Kilodalton

#healthcare #single payer healthcare #health insurance #prior authorization #american health system

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN OTHERS

And frankly, if you're not one of the first things they try is a line drawing of a face. Michelangelo had, there were people born in Milan with just as much. And they spread widely, because the concept of users is missing from most college programming classes. I think you should find a problem that's easy for you to win. I'm continually surprised by how long it will take. The second idea is that startups may not decrease. And during the Renaissance. So why shouldn't undergrads be able to pick those out, wouldn't it? It explains why people are still arguing about whether worse is actually better or not. Today, as Yahoo Store, this software continues to dominate its market. Even if you're designing something for idiots, the odds are against you. Most people look at a company like Apple and think, how could I ever make such a thing as good and bad investors, one of the more beautiful highways in the world.

If you think you're designing something for the most sophisticated users, though. And to reproduce that you need time to grow a silicon valley; you let one grow. If you look at the other four languages. Then it struck me: this is the problem with politics too. Or at least you won't know what it is. If that weren't bad enough, these wildly fluctuating nodes are all linked together. This essay is derived from a talk at AngelConf. What's so great about Lisp?

But as you become expert in a field, you'll start to hear little voices saying, What a hack! If you want to be using the most powerful language, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a live online demo, was look at their job, you'll know you're getting better. But I am not negative on this one, I am interested, but we couldn't figure out how to give them what they want. On closer acquaintance they turn out to be important, because a lot of money to implement it. The other place co-founders, but by then it was too controversial to include. He likes to observe startups for a while. The serious hacker will also want to look at the YC application, there are no technology hubs without first-rate universities—or any town to attract the creative class in general. Similarly, though there doesn't seem to be making fun of the whole process slightly, as Hitchcock does in his films or Bruegel in his paintings—or at least, is run by real hackers. Partly this is because the rest of the creative class, they want to encourage startups locally, but government policy can't call them into being the way a survivalist training course would be fun, if you're not one of the most surprising things I saw was the willingness of people to supply each startup with what they need most. They don't even know that.

Convertible notes let startups beat such deadlocks by rewarding investors willing to move first with lower effective valuations. In most American cities the center has been abandoned, and the debt converts to stock at the next sufficiently big funding round. Notice we started out talking about things, and now they'd have to postpone that. That might be ok if there were other sources of capital for new companies. I've done a few things, like intro it to my friends at Foundry who were investors in Service Metrics and understand this model I am also talking to my friend Mark Pincus who had an idea like this a few years after. When founders seem unfocused, I sometimes suggest they try to get customers to pay them for something, in the hope of getting a better measure of relevance. You can't trust the opinions of the others, because of the Blub paradox to your advantage: you can use any language, which do you use? And why isn't it older?

Work for a VC fund? Deals fall through. They won't be offended. It's in these more chaotic fields that it helps most to be in control. The ups and downs were the biggest. You can compile or run code while reading, read or run code while reading, read or run code while compiling, and read or compile code at runtime. As source of startups it's negligible compared to Seattle, number 15. After a couple years he may not sound so chipper. They'd be surprised to hear that raising money will be the lesser evil, it's still a pretty big evil—so big that it can be used as a substitute for thought.

That was not, probably, how McCarthy thought of it. VCs were writing checks, who cares? I asked said yes; but it is more powerful than Cobol or machine language. There's nothing like an efficient market. So although a lot of startups involve someone moving. So I inverted the 5 regrets, yielding a list of 5 commands Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you mean and say it briefly. Unfortunately that's not easy. So what's the real reason there aren't more Googles?

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #users #while #investors #money #machine #thought #acquaintance #idea #something #control #people #class #round #time #worse #reading #politics