I was *trying* to finish writing Chapter 03 for "Feathered Vengeance," but it's too late. Hyperfixating to bang out 2-3k just isn't viable, too close to bedtime. So instead, have a XiaoVen fic idea I simply do NOT have the time or motivation to write. Maybe if I throw enough of these ideas out there someone else will be inspired and write their version.

Another reincarnation-style idea (never enough of those), canon divergence style. Venti's fear has proven to be founded, the Great Sins have been committed by the alchemists of Monstadt. The Principalities once more demand the destruction of a civilization, this time the one full of his children. The first time had been devastating enough, a cruel ask he never quite recovered from.

Barbatos cannot destroy his children, and thus he is punished. Isn't that always the way? If one dares to defy the Four Shades, they will not permit such a Sin go. They will not risk letting Barbatos resist to protect his home. Istaroth makes an attempt at mercy, but what is humane mercy to gods that only understand force and control?

The Ley Lines bring Venti back, each time without memories. For the next thirty years, as he approaches that last birthday the Erosion takes away the human memories he has... Until the ones as a deity take his last breath. Over. And over. And over. Those last years are cruel, as he loses that which he gained and remembers what he will forever continue to lose. It is a cruel curse, but the gods deem it mercy - after all, he will continue to live, will he not? Even if he will remember the fires of Khaerin'rah and Mondtadt each time in those.

When first learning of it, Xiao makes a choice of his own. The Era of Humans has taken Liyue's need for yaksha away. But after two millenia of only protecting, of only sacrificing, learning how to live is difficult. Xiao only knew how to live for others, never himself. So he chooses to find Venti each time. When Venti turns twenty, Xiao finds a way to befriend him. Every time, offers comfort and protection in those final years. Is the only familiar face in those last moments, is a hand to hold.

And then... One time, something changes. Before the memories of Barbatos return, as they will, Venti does something different. There's a kiss. A confession. It's new and terrifying and... Wonderful? Heart-breaking. Fulfilling. There's a whirlwind of emotions. Xiao can't. He doesn't understand the new sensation, doesn't understand being loved for who he is instead of what he can do. So he rejects him, retreats before it's Venti's time. Is filled with guilt, but still returns for that last month. Can't bear leaving Venti to be alone in those moments. Not when the fire destroys so much.

The next lifetime, there's time. Two and half decades to think, to decide. That time, he tries. Xiao studied and asked and practiced in a mirror and... This one, he says, "yes." Ten horrible and beautiful years pass. The next lifetime, he asks. He's given a yes.

Each lifetime there's a yes. Always a yes. No matter how many good byes there are, there's the ease of the knowledge that there will be a future with another, "hello."

A cruel cycle, but one he accepts.

Until... That next time. When their eyes meet and instead of a smile and a hello... He is greeted with a warm smile along with a, "Hello again, Xiao."

Choice

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None really I think. (Rated G)

Square Filled: Single Parent AU for @star-spangled-bingo and AU: Single Parent (Y2) for @buckybarnesbingo 

Word Count: 2500ish 

A/N: I love Kobik. She is not part of the MCU I know but I just jammed her in there cause why not. I am sure it won’t be the last time either. It’s not completely an AU but since I am adding Kobik here and completely making stuff up I feel it counts. Probably more canon divergence though but it’s now a square. 

The premise of Kobik being detained by the government is inspired by Bring Home Kobik by @avengerscompound

Thanks to my lil sis @ifyougetkilled-walk-it-off for betaing for me.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

This had without a doubt been the weirdest assignment you had been given, although there had also been the slightest hesitation from you in accepting it. It wasn’t the first time you were asked to assess the safety levels of operatives, but this time it was different. Kobik was classified as a  weapon of mass destruction, but she was also a child. 

You had met her the first time while she was still locked up fifty feet underground in a secret facility sixty-five miles outside DC. Politician and army strategists feared her, or it as many of them called her. Despite everyone fearing her, you had also seen how everyone was focused on how to use her. 

All but two people, whom you had sided with after meeting Kobik the first time. She wasn’t a weapon. She was a child. That’s how you saw her and that’s how Captain America had presented his case before the united nations. 

After the war that had almost destroyed the universe, the men in power had learned to listen to Captain Rogers. You were sure they weren’t happy about it. Actually, you enjoyed watching their surly expressions as Roger’s left no room for argument in how he presented the argument that Kobik belonged with the Avengers initiative. 

Steve hadn’t been alone. Behind him were two men you had recognized too. One of them was Tony Stark. He hadn’t spoken unless he was spoken too but assured the council that he would put any safety measure in place so the girl wouldn’t pose a threat to the people of New York or the rest of the world.

The second man you knew as The Winter Soldier. You knew a few of your coworkers had been assigned his case a few years back. You hadn’t been at the hearing were he had been pardoned for all past crimes, but you know enough about the case to know it had been the right decision. He had been as much of a victim as any of the people he had been used to kill. He had suffered long enough. He deserved his freedom. 

After Captain Roger’s had finished his speech Bucky Barnes spoke up. He knew the child and had cared for her until the government had placed her under lockdown. He assured them he knew what he was doing and the way he spoke about her made you believe him. 

Barnes wasn’t fooling himself. He knew the child could be dangerous, but he felt she would be even more dangerous if she wasn’t exposed to the world and allowed to be with people she cared for. He was adamant that she should get to be a child and if she wanted to join the Avengers when the time came she would be trained. It had to be her choice though. 

You had been so impressed with his words that you had sent him a smile as you passed him to take the stand after the scientists and caregiver, which in your mind were more like prison guards, had finished telling the council how wrong Rogers and Barnes were in thinking something this powerful should be allowed any free will. It wasn’t human after all. 

Barnes had looked as if he was about to jump up and tear their heads clear off when you passed him, but your smile changed his expression. He looked confused and on guard. His reaction made your heartbreak for him a little. Even years after his torture and captivity he was still expected the worst from the world. Kindness threw him off. 

You without hesitation told the council how wrong the people before you had been. You made a point of saying you agreed with Barnes, looking straight at him when you did and he visibly relaxed a little. You continued describing the child you had met. You finished by explaining to the council that even if she wasn’t human she had the innocence of a child and was as moldable and breakable as one. If the world kept treating her like she was dangerous she was going to become a danger. 

In the end, Kobik had been signed over into Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers’ care and you had been assigned to monitor that her threat level stayed manageable by the Avengers. You had agreed to the assignment but rolled your eyes in hiding, wondering how a bunch of suits thought they could protect the world from someone as powerful as Kobik if the Avengers couldn’t. Only you hadn’t been as good at hiding your mocking of them as you thought and your heart skipped a beat when you turned your head to see Barnes sending you a cheeky grin. 

This had been almost a year ago and your weekly visits to the Avenger’s tower were a highlight for you. Kobik was an amazing kid and everyone there had made you feel at home right away. Well, almost. Bucky was looming around in the back of the room when you talked to Kobik at first. You didn’t feel as if he disliked you. It was just a general mistrust of anyone he didn’t really know and it was more than evident to you how much he cared for the little ball of energy. 

Kobik had called out to him on your third visit, making him come over and play with you. Bucky had seemed uneasy when he had approached you, sending you a questioning look which you had answered with a smile and wave of your hand. You didn’t need to spend your two hours with Kobik alone with her. She felt more than safe with Bucky around, that was clear to anyone. She hardly stopped talking from you walked in the door until you left, which still hadn’t changed from the first day until now. You had come to love the little girl and cherish being around her surrogate father this past year. 

Even on days like today when Bucky wasn’t around the little girl talked about him and the things they had done together since your last visit. Today, you were slightly distracted however and Kobik instantly picked up on it. 

“Are you sad?” she asked, breaking you out of your thoughts and you smiled at her tugging her white hair lovingly. 

“No. Well. Maybe a little. I had hoped Bucky was here today. I needed to talk to him about something,” you told her and Kobik instantly bounced over to sit in your lap. 

“Are you going to be my mom?” Kobik asked and your eyes widened and your heart picked up its pace. Kobik asking a lot of very blunt questions wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was the first time she has expressed a wish for you to be part of her little makeshift family. 

“Why do you ask something like that?” you questioned, not really sure how to react. The truth was you had cried this morning when you received the call the council expected your last report at the end of the month. They deemed the security level around Kobik to be stable. She had lived with Bucky and the rest of the Avengers for a year now without incident. Your reports only ever expressed positive change and to be honest, you were sure Tony had been fed up with the government breathing down his neck. So he had made them back off, no doubt supported by Steve.

No one wanted you to leave. That had just been an unfortunate side effect and the truth was you didn’t want to leave either. You loved Kobik and you enjoyed every moment you got to spend around her adopted dad. Kobik never called him that, but you knew she saw him as her father. Bucky never called Kobik his either, but the love and fire in his eyes when he was around her or talked about her meant he didn’t have to. She was his daughter. 

It was more than admiration that made you like being around Bucky. He was sweet and attentive, even if he could be quiet. Some days he was quieter than others, but every time he laughed you felt warm. Every time he touched you whether accidental or innocently in passing your heart skipped a beat and his warm smile made your cheeks burn hot. You loved Kobik and you had a crush on her dad. 

“Because you and Buckaroo like each other. You watch each other and smile when the other isn’t looking,” she answered and you felt as if all the blood in your body rushed to your face. “And he was sad when Uncle Steve told him you’re not coming by anymore. Is that true?”

The sadness in her eyes broke your heart and you instantly pulled her in for a hug. “I’m not sure, Kobik. I hope I can still visit. Maybe just in a little different way than before,” you tried to explain but weren’t sure how. “That’s why I wanted to talk with Bucky.”

“He’s up on the roof,” Kobik revealed eagerly jumping off the couch. “We should go talk to him.”

“What… I thought…” your chest tightened, not sure how to feel. You hated that Bucky was avoiding you. It made you sad that he wouldn’t want to say goodbye at least. You weren’t family to either of them. You were here to observe and report, only somewhere along the way you had begun developing feelings for them both. Kobik was high energy and sweet. She always wanted to help others and you loved that about her. Bucky was quiet, surly even at times, but he was more than that too. He was loving and gentle with Kobik. You swore he had even begun flirting a little with you within the past few months. Accidentally brushing up against you or sending you a smile that made your heart stop for a moment. 

It made you angry when you thought he might blame you for your assignment ending. It wasn’t your choice to go and if he would only ask you to come back to see him and Kobik on your own time, you wouldn’t hesitate at all. You didn’t hold on to the anger for more than a few seconds though. Bucky didn’t always have the easiest time talking with other people. You held onto that and tried to convince yourself Bucky might not be hiding away because he was angry with you. He might just not know how to deal with this situation. You found all of this difficult so you knew it was ten times worse for him. 

“Kobik, I need you to wait down here okay? Play with the stickers I brought you for a bit okay?” you told her, smiling at the small pout on her face. Eventually, Kobik did as you asked and you made your way towards the roof. 

Your heart was pounding as you pushed open the door. You spotted him easily. His arms resting against the rails with his back turned to you. He didn’t move as you quietly walked up beside him, but you knew he was aware of you. Hell, he probably knew you were coming as you made it up the stairs. 

“Kobik has been spying again,” you started awkwardly. “She heard you and Steve. So you know?” 

Bucky just nodded, and you felt your sadness and frustration grow. He had to be feeling something. If he would just give you a sign as to what. Anything. 

“Bucky. Talk to me. Please?” you pleaded with him, gently laying a hand on his right arm and he finally turned to look at you. 

“This. Kobik. Us. Was it just a job?” his words took you back and the hurt must have shown on your face because Bucky quickly continued. “I don’t think it was. It wasn’t to her or to me. I don’t want anything to chance. Maybe except…”

Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled as Bucky looked down studying the ground between you. His shyness made you bolder and you took a step forward so you were almost touching.

“Except what?” you breathed and Bucky looked up into your eyes. The air caught in your throat as his hands gently came up to cup your face and his metal thumb tenderly brushed across your lips. Almost as if he was asking permission.

You gave a small nod and Bucky smiled leaning in without breaking eye contact with you. The first kiss was just a brush of his lips against yours. The second was sweet and tender, still more lips than tongue and Bucky’s hands slide down your body and wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him. You closed your eyes getting lost in everything that was Bucky as you tangled your hands in his hair, moaning slightly causing him to smile against your lips.    

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in his arms like that. You were sure you would have stayed much longer too if it wasn’t for a sound. A giggle coming from the doorway to the stairs, made you and Bucky break apart to see a smiling Kobik watching you. 

“Are we a family now? Y/N is coming back?” Kobik answered, looking up at you with big hope-filled eyes. 

“I’m coming back,” you assured her with a laugh, feeling your heart skip a bit when Bucky gave your hand he was still holding a small squeeze but otherwise his attention was on his adopted child. 

“Kobik, remember what we talked about?” Bucky asked firmly and Kobik’s small face fell a little, knowing she was in trouble.

“No spying. I knooow,” Kobik sighed, drawing a pattern on the ground with the tip of her shoes, looking anywhere but right at Bucky. 

Neither of you and Bucky could help but smile at the little girl, and Bucky shook his head with a chuckle as he opened his arms and knelt down. Kobik’s little face split into a huge smile as she ran straight into Bucky’s embrace. 

“Sorry, Bucko,” she mumbled as he hugged her tight against him standing up with her in his arms and your heart warmed at the sight. You had never seen Bucky raise his voice with her or lose his temper. He was also so affectionate and gentle, never once treating her as anything other than a child, but aware of what she could do. 

“I know you are, Kobik,” Bucky answered her, tugging her ponytail making her smile, “what do you say we all go get ice cream?”

“YAY thanks, Daddy,” Kobik squealed throwing her arms around his neck again. If she noticed Bucky froze, she didn’t say anything. She just hugged him, letting him squeeze her a little tighter as his teary eye met with your glossy ones. They both deserved each other and you felt so lucky they had welcomed you into their lives.   

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Title: Dreaming of You

Author: 深山 Circle: ETERNITE

Series: Tales of Zestiria Main characters: Sorey, Alisha, Mikleo; also some Lailah and Edna Ships: Sorey/Alisha

Content rating: G Warnings: Spoilers, also a bit of a tearjerker imho Pages: 16 Ease of reading: you don’t even need to read | super easy | know some grammar first | tricky | advanced | this was really heckin hard

Summary: 

(High school AU ayyyy)

Sorey and Mikleo are at school, and Sorey looks exhausted. Mikleo guesses that he’s still having trouble sleeping and suggests he go to a hospital to get his insomnia checked out, but Sorey dejectedly refuses, finally saying that he doesn’t think the issue is physical.

Mikleo looks concerned and suddenly asks if Sorey believes in remembering one’s past life--which makes Sorey laugh and wonder if Mikleo’s also been missing sleep. Mikleo gets defensive and insists he’s being serious, but Lailah and Edna interrupt and indicate that he come with them. Reluctantly, Mikleo does so and promises to get back to Sorey later.

Elsewhere, Edna criticizes Mikleo for that “past lives” line, but Mikleo argues that the situation is no longer about Sorey “being a slow case,” as his body is at its limit and the lack of sleep is bound to hurt him if it continues. Edna explains that while Mikleo was probably correct in thinking Sorey’s faulty memory is the cause of his insomnia, attempting to make him remember his past life against his will is dangerous. She adds that the aforementioned cause can’t currently be found, and that it’s meaningless, anyway, if Sorey can’t recall what it is himself--although she’s already figured out what it is. Lailah says she has, as well, but Mikleo’s dumbfounded because he has no idea what it is lol.

Lailah assures them both that things will be alright, since Sorey’s missing “cause” recently enrolled in their school and she spoke with “her” earlier, someone who’s also lost her memory like Sorey has. Lailah encourages Mikleo and Edna to believe in the power of Sorey’s and Alisha’s bond.

Sorey eventually gets up to leave. He bumps into someone in the hall and they both apologize, but he freezes up when he sees that it’s Alisha. She explains that she just moved to town and promises to be more careful; when she realizes he’s staring at her, he assures her it’s fine and quickly goes to leave, wondering why he’s been seized by such a strange feeling. Almost immediately, he passes out.

While unconscious, he dreams he’s talking to Mikleo, who looks like he does in the game’s epilogue. In his narration, Sorey’s confused that Mikleo’s an adult, but dream!Sorey is talking with him and insisting that he hasn’t “changed his mind” about something. Mikleo teases him, saying he’s surprised that the first thing out of Sorey’s mouth wasn’t “let’s go explore some ruins,” but admits that Sorey’s always been full of surprises. Mikleo leads him through a ruin filled with tombs, noting Rose’s and Sergei’s, and mentions that the one they’re looking for is further in. Sorey wonders if it’s really okay for it to be out in the middle of nowhere, but Mikleo tells him it’s what “she” wanted, because “she” wanted to see the ruins. They come upon a grave on an open hillside decorated with Alisha’s lance.

(Surprise not really a high school AU ayyyy)

Back in the present, Sorey wakes up in the nurse’s office. Alisha comes to check on him and says she’s glad he’s okay, and that Rose and Dezel-sensei helped after he passed out, and Zaveid-sensei called the doctor--but Sorey interrupts by sitting up and suddenly hugging her. She’s embarrassed and confused, but he says that he remembers everything now.

“I remembered... I remembered all of it. How could I forget something so important? Alisha and Rose and Sergei... by the time I woke up, all the humans I'd known were gone. Mikleo and Lailah and Edna... and Zaveid... I met them again, and they were all so happy. I found my conviction before I went to sleep, but... it didn't help at all. I never, ever forgot those feelings of regret and helplessness. So I..."

Meanwhile, in his narration: "I finally understand. The reason I couldn't sleep until now... was because waking to a world without you was terrible."

Alisha admits she doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about, but then hugs him back and promises that she isn’t going anywhere--and says his name for the first time. This surprises him and he asks if she also got her memory back, but she admits that the name just came out of her mouth without thinking.

Sorey realizes she has a while to go before she also remembers, and instead asks if he can make one request: that she sits beside him while he sleeps. She cheerfully agrees to do so and holds his hand. They exchange "goodnights," and the last line is Sorey asking what she wants to talk about when he wakes up.

Impressions:

what I expected when I saw the cover: “aw cute fluffy coffee shop AU probably!”

what I got: CHEST PAINS AND TEARS

First off, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I heckin’ love when Mikleo gets these little moments to shine, even when the story isn’t strictly about him. The idea that he’d try to bend the rules to protect Sorey is just  👌 👌 👌 👌 YES, I love these bros so much and I would die for them and this doujinshi just nailed it perfectly ugh my feelings

Edna also gets a special mention, since she was a bit soft despite her teasing Mikleo a couple times and her attempts to look apathetic on the matter. <3

Anyhow, onto the main characters lol

It’s not completely explained, but I think the point of the premise is that everyone has been reborn into this modern/high school setting, and dreaming is their way of recovering their memory of their past (canon) lives. Sorey subconsciously resisted, because at the point he’d reached in his dreams, Alisha was dead and gone and he couldn’t handle it.

YEAH THIS HURT ME. I was legit getting upset when Sorey was explaining how lonely he felt lskjdfhnnggghhh I didn't ask for this. It pulled some LOST-level plot twist there at the end (except, you know, actually well done) which I WAS NOT READY FOR, THANKS, and while this is actually a happy ending since they all get to be together again (THAT CASUAL DEZEL MENTION ;___; ) I'm still? really?? upset??? :’|

also HEY screw the idea that Mikleo was involved in burying all their human friends t h a n k s  I  h a t e  i t

there's only... one other doujinshi, I think, that left me this shook, so yeah y'all can look forward to that

hnghhh but emotions aside, I really liked it! very nice art, good twist, excellent characterizations all around, also Sergei got some love which was nice!! (is he the overzealous drill-sergeant-of-a-coach in the high school AU, I wonder...)

This was one doujinshi I had to overpay a bit for via a mediator site (~$28 iirc, which... isn't terrible, but it's still scalping :T ) and then found for half the price elsewhere later on rip but it was worth it! 10/10, highly recommend, would cry again.

....I’ll probably think of this doujin every time I use the high school costumes in-game now great

Hey so like...how do u justify romanticising a minor/adult relationship bc as a minor it kinda makes me uncomfortable. You’re an amazing writer, I just don’t quite get why you chose the age gap

before i address your question directly, and i will, i want to point out a few things that confuse me about this ask.

first, the admission of being a minor with the implication you’ve read my work, and now outright interacting with me. i’ve written maybe half a dozen g- and t-rated fics, and none of them are particularly popular, which i’m guessing means you’ve read my explicit fics, which means you’ve clicked past Ao3′s polite “18+ only” warning. my apologies if this assumption is incorrect – maybe you really have only read my three or four gen/teen-rated fics. that just seems very unlikely to me because all of my more popular fics are mature and explicit.

now, while admitting you are a minor made uncomfortable by minor/adult relationships, you have directly approached me, a 29 year old woman, to ask me why i’ve made the choices i’ve made. granted, by going on anon, you’ve ensured that this is a public forum, but if you’d PM’d me, i wouldn’t have responded, because i am not here to interact with minors.

which brings me to my conclusion of this portion of the ask, which is: i am not writing for minors and i do not want to interact with minors. i can’t control what you read or don’t read and it’s absolutely not my responsibility to cater to you in any way, especially if you knowingly and voluntarily click past the 18+ warning. but i can control my personal interactions, and i urge you not to reach out to me again. 

next i’m going to nitpick the word “romanticize” which is a word heavy in the current moral rhetoric. literally speaking, you are right. i am making an age gap romance romantic. rhetorically speaking, to “romanticize” something means to flatten or gloss over it, sweep potential consequences under the rug. to romanticize abuse, for example, is to make it beautiful, to ignore all the trauma and pain that comes along with it. (i think it is a worthy artistic endeavor to attempt to romanticize abuse in fiction, if for only the ability to highlight how fucked up abusive relationships can feel in the moment, but that’s a rant for another time).

since you haven’t read training wheels, i can tell you outright i am not romanticizing a minor/adult relationship. there are certainly unrealistic/porny moments, but i’m not shying away from the actual emotional consequences of being a 17yo* girl dating a 25yo man. i’m doing my best to depict this relationship the way these relationships are actually felt, because they do happen, and i have been in them. they can be very romantic, but that doesn’t mean i’m romanticizing them. though we’re not in his pov, bellamy is acutely aware of the greater context of their relationship. and clarke, who has no context, is doing her best to navigate the difficulty of her situation, semi-aware that it’s something that will be haunting her for a long, long time. 

i am not beautifying the ugliness of their relationship; i am not fetishizing (another word i take issue with) the minor body. being in clarke’s pov means that bellamy is object of desire, and meanwhile we get, through clarke’s thoughts, the sometimes awkward and confusing realization of what it means to be wanted, loved, used, seen, broken, trespassed, and all the other things teenage girls sometimes have to navigate. 

and i have one more thing to say before i answer your actual question: you are allowed to be uncomfortable reading fiction. in fact, i think you should be uncomfortable reading fiction. all art should make us uncomfortable, because in discomfort lies broader awareness. by consuming things which push at the boundaries of our narrow reality, we are capable of widening that reality, and that’s what it means to learn and grow and become the people we want to be. you cannot become a better, stronger, wiser person without facing and overcoming that which makes you uncomfortable. 

i also resent a bit the implication that i, a fanfic writer, a queer woman, am beholden to appeasing your comfort when straight white male writers are not. i assume you’re not sending jroth letters about how murphy’s sex slavery arc in s3 made you uncomfortable. or that the entire premise of the show revolves around putting a hundred minors in a ship and dropping them onto a potentially lethal planet. or raven, a teenager, sleeping with bellamy, an adult, in s1. and that’s not even mentioning the violence perpetuated against minors in the show. they die! and they bleed! like, a lot!! charlotte, a 12yo girl, dies a gruesome death in s1. they are minors forced to kill or be killed in exceedingly violent ways, and you’re in my inbox asking why i’m writing a fic that depicts a loving and consensual relationship between a 17yo (clarke’s canonical age in s1) and a 25yo. 

now i’ll answer your actual ask.

you use the word “justify” as if i had to do some kind of logistical puzzle to make this fic morally okay in my eyes. i can tell you now, i did not, because the story exists to navigate that logistical puzzle on its own. the conflict poses the question: is this okay? is this wrong? what about it is wrong? for what reasons is it wrong? and i also attempt (in a clunky way because it’s a bit rough, plot-wise) to navigate what “informed consent” really means to a 17yo who has no information to go off of. for me it’s an experiment in what consent really is. clarke wants bellamy, but she doesn’t have a full awareness of the consequences of that want, so is it truly consensual? what does bellamy have to do to fully inform her of those consequences? is it even his responsibility, or should clarke take more agency over her experiences? and lastly, the most interesting question of them all to me – what happens to the minors in consensual age gap relationships? how do they cope with that experience years later? in what ways does it change them?

though it’s not my responsibility to indulge my personal ties to this conflict in order to further “justify” it, i can assure you, i am writing this from clarke’s pov having been the younger party in many age gap relationships, at times a minor. at times coerced. at times completely uninformed. but each time, consensual. i sought out the men i dated. i took the lead. i propositioned them. and i consider: how has that affected me and the way i love now? 

my mom at 20, married my dad, 32. my older sister at 16, met her (now ex) husband, her then-boss, at 23 (they waited until she was 18 to start dating). i dated an 18yo and then a 19yo when i was 14. a 21yo when i was 16. a 32yo when i was 19. a 47yo when i was 22. but i also had a long-term relationship with someone who was just three months younger than me. age gap is not the only way i know how to love, but it is certainly a way to love, and one i find, in lieu of seeking it out in reality, narratively compelling. so i write about those experiences in order to better understand them now that i’m older. in order to take them apart and piece them back together. in order to, in some cases, relive them, because i enjoyed so much about them. 

i don’t pursue older men anymore because i no longer seek male validation. i don’t meet a handsome middle-aged man and need him to love me to feel like my existence in the world is warranted. but that doesn’t mitigate all the old habits and drive and potentially genetic disposition that led me to relentlessly pursuing them in the first place. so now i sublimate that into fiction and offer my experience and understanding to others who might be predisposed in the same way, or people who are not and curious about what that experience is like. and that’s what fiction does.

lastly, i’ve sort of saturated myself in age gap stories. i’ve watched every age gap movie i can get my hands on, read every book. i dive through google and ao3 looking for age gap recs, seeking out the one story or fic or movie that not only gets the relationship right, but figures out how to make it work. that’s all i want – a realistic, plausible solution to this very delicate and complicated kind of relationship. and i can’t find that story, so i’ve decided to write it myself. 

training wheels is an uncomfortable story about a romantic minor/adult relationship and the realistic psychological consequences of it, both in the immediate present and long-term, and you are supposed to be made uncomfortable by it, regardless of your age. it makes romantic but does not romanticize age gap relationships. i do not take the morality of this story lightly, nor its meaning or intentions. whether i succeed in this is up to interpretation, and i can’t control that interpretation, but i can tell you with certainty what my intentions have been going into this story, and exactly why i’ve made the decisions i’ve made regarding it. 

*the age of consent in ohio, where training wheels is set, is 16. i recognize the current rhetoric around this is “legality is not morality” or whatever, but again – the purpose of training wheels is in part to directly address this conflict

The Best Gift (Rollisi fic)

So, I actually wrote the following fic for the Rare Pair Exchange a few weeks ago. But author reveals just happened today, so I decided to share it here for Amanda Rollins week, in @svucharacterappreciation

It’s my first time writing Rollisi and I had a lot of fun doing so! (Maybe I’ll do it again?) G-rated, about 1700 words. Crossposted from my AO3 account (where you can find the rest of my SVU fic.)

“You don’t have to stay and help, Carisi.”

“It’s no problem,” Sonny assured Amanda, as he picked up another errant plastic cup and tossed it in the trash. “See, in my house, growing up? My mom always used to throw these huge birthday parties for us kids. Everyone in the family would be there, all the cousins and aunts and uncles. Seemed like half the kids on Staten Island, too. She’d be up all night before the party cooking and baking, and then she wouldn’t go to bed after the party until every room was pristine clean again. The rugs had to be vacuumed, the kitchen floor swept, every dish washed and hand-dried.” He paused, bending over to retrieve a streamer that had somehow gotten wrapped around the dining room table leg. “But she wouldn’t let anyone help her, either, because she had her way of doing things—the only right way. It was just how she was.”

Amanda snorted and kicked a chair back in place, her hands full of gift bags to be sorted through tomorrow. “Well, as you should be able to tell by now, I’m not nearly so fastidious.”

“No one was—short of my mother’s mother, my nonna Marie. But I always felt bad seeing my mom exhausted by all that work. So trust me, you don’t need to do everything here yourself.”

“You’re right about that. And I definitely won’t refuse help offered willingly,” Amanda said with a smile, one that Sonny beamed right back at her.

All the other guests who’d shown up for Jesse’s first birthday party had left some time ago. Fin had dragged Munch off the premises first, the two of them arguing about current political events—as usual. Olivia had said goodnight when Noah started getting cranky and restless, perhaps not pleased that he wasn’t the center of all the adults’ attention for once. Melinda and her husband had stayed a while longer, happy for the relaxing evening out with friends—and sharing stories of how nice it was once the kids had grown up enough to leave the house for college.

“It’ll be a lot of years until I know how that feels,” Amanda had said, “but I’m in no hurry to rush through these early years.”

“Don’t be,” Melinda had assured her. “You’ll be reminiscing about them from the day she starts talking back at you.”

Amanda had also invited a few other young moms from the prenatal yoga class she had attended before Jesse’s birth. They’d stayed in touch because it was nice to have other mothers—most of them single moms themselves—to talk to, vent at, and lean on as necessary. And Amanda had been happy to see how their little ones were growing so fast...much like Jesse herself.

Jesse, who surely had no idea why so many people had been in their home, making all this noise and fuss over her. She was now fast asleep in her crib, and Amanda was getting close to the point where she’d love to simply crawl into her own bed, too.

But she didn’t mind Sonny lingering behind. She wasn’t a neat freak, but it could be depressing to wake up the morning after a big party and have nothing but a huge mess to clean up.

Wake up by herself, to the quietude of an otherwise empty apartment, save her dog and the baby she hadn’t planned for, nor expected.

“I’ll take these out to the trash chute,” Sonny said, hefting three plastic bags up over his shoulder as if he were Santa Claus.

“Thanks,” she replied distractedly as he headed for the door, throwing the deadbolt so it wouldn’t lock behind him. Sonny knew where the trash room was; he’d come over to make and share dinner enough evenings. In fact it had almost started to become routine, once every few weeks when they had the time. Dinner, catching up on the latest reality shows piled up on her DVR, talk about their various ongoing family dramas...

Talk about anything other than work.

Or the possibilities that were right there in front of them both.

It was nice. Sonny was nice, she thought as she settled down on her sofa with a wistful, tired sigh. She’d been seriously skeptical about him at first, but he’d grown a lot since he’d first landed at Manhattan SVU. Or maybe...maybe with time she had become more able, and willing, to see who he had been from the start.

Because Sonny was always there for her, in ways that few other men ever had been. And that’s why she was determined not to do anything to fuck that up.

She’d made more than her share of mistakes with men in the past, including—on more than one occasion, she had to admit—men she had to work with. At least her “mistake” with Declan had ended up giving her Jesse, who was now the best part of her life...but.

Still.

Sonny.

Sonny was a man who would stick around, unlike Declan. She knew that. And Sonny wasn’t carrying tons of baggage with a separated wife and multiple kids, like Nick had been.

Damn it, Amanda. A good guy—maybe the right guy—finally comes along and now you’re gun-shy. Don’t want to be the girl who ends up sleeping with every available man at the office. And yet, with Sonny she had the feeling it would be about a lot more than just sex. They’d had all this time to get to know each other, to become friends first. That would make things different, and better, right?

“Amanda, did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, what?” she said, jumping as he startled her out of those thoughts. Sonny had returned from trash duty and was now standing before her, looking concerned.

“I asked if you wanted to save what was left of the meatballs and sausage in the crockpot? I just need a container for it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. There should be some clean tupperware in the cabinet above the sink.”

“OK, will do. There’s easily enough for two lunches yet in there.”

“You can take it home if you want.”

“I won’t say no to that.” He turned to head to the kitchen, but then paused to ask, “You okay?”

“Me? Of course! I mean...why?”

“You...you looked kind of sad when I came back in.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just the post-party blahs, I suppose.”

“Being ‘on’ and entertaining for hours. I get that. It can be pretty draining.” He sat down next to her. “You sure that’s it, though?”

She bit her lip. Did she really want to have this conversation?

Right now?

Ever?

Or was she being stubborn and unfair to both of them, to keep denying what was there between them? “Sonny, you ever think about...I mean if I am projecting and off-base here please tell me to shut up and that’s fine and forget I ever even asked, but...”

“About us?” he interrupted.

“Uh...yeah. I mean...we hang out after work, you’ve tried giving me cooking lessons, you like being here with Jesse...”

“And Frannie!” he put in with enthusiasm, causing Amanda to laugh. The poor pup had gone into hiding from all the noise and activity and was still sulking in her dog bed in the bedroom.

“Yeah, and of course Frannie, how could I forget my first baby-girl. I guess I can’t help but wonder, why you do all that instead of, I dunno...getting out there and trying to find someone to share time with who you don’t have to see every day at work already. Someone who isn’t all tangled up in this line of work and all the stress we have to deal with.”

“I could do that,” he agreed, nodding his head. “But...maybe I’m more interested in spending time with someone who knows what this job is all about, who can help me deal with it better myself. And because...well, I like you, Amanda. I like you a lot.”

“I like you too, Sonny,” she admitted, and it was true. Her attraction to him had been far from immediate. Yet as she’d come to appreciate his kindness and heart, she’d felt her own heart opening up to deeper feelings for him.

“But I know you’ve been through a lot and I didn’t want—I don’t want—to rush you into anything you aren’t sure about.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, allowing herself a small smile—one that grew as she saw Sonny flush a little and look away, endearing in his moment of shyness and vulnerability. And so when he looked back to meet her gaze, she took a chance on leaning in for a light kiss on his lips.

It was sweet, and tender...and cautious. Like Sonny. She pulled back and they sat quietly, awkwardly, for a few moments, sharing shy glances and a few nervous laughs. Then he looked to her with a serious expression, his eyes focused as one hand cupped her cheek, and drew her to him for a much more sensual kiss.

Oh, she could fall hard, and fast, if there were more kisses to be shared like this one. What other surprises might Sonny have for her, she wondered?

Before she could contemplate such things for very long he pulled away, giving her a dreamy if regret-tinged smile. “It’s getting on pretty late, I should head home.”

“You could...stay...if you want.”

“I could,” he agreed, reaching up to stroke her hair with a light touch. “But, I meant it about taking things slow. I don’t want to mess this up. You know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He stood with a sigh, and so did Amanda, following him to the door. He lingered there for a moment, in the open doorway, and then suggested, “If nothin’ comes up this weekend, I can give you a call, we could do something together? I mean, something more than cooking dinner and watching Below Deck or Dancing with the Stars.”

“I’d like that. Good night, Sonny.”

“Good night, Amanda.” He seemed to be considering one last kiss, but then perhaps he knew if he went for it, he wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. So instead he smiled and headed down the hall to the elevator, casting one last smile and wave in her direction as he did.

She returned both, then closed the door, locking it behind her. Still grinning, she looked at all those gifts for Jesse from her friends, and appreciated having them in her life.

But Sonny had given her the best gift of all tonight.

The gift of hope, and maybe one more chance at love.

To Tame a Queen

At long last, here is the first chapter of my Chlonette fic. It’s not too exciting, just setting up the premise for the story basically. 

Title: To Tame a Queen

Summary: Chloe thought she had the world in the palm of her hands, but when the world discovers just how hideous she really is, she is forced to turn to her mortal enemy for help. 

FF | AO3

Rating: G/K+ (may bump up to T, idk yet though)

Tags: Chlonette, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers

There were only a few times in Chloe Bourgeois’s life where she had to wonder how she’d sunk so low, and none more so than now as she knelt before her nemesis in the school locker room with her hands clasped before her, a begrudging pout on her lips. It was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that she needed help cleaning up her image, let alone the fact that she was asking Marinette Dupain-Cheng for that help. On any other day, she would have rather swallowed a cactus, but she was desperate. Marinette had gotten her into this mess, and she was going to get her out of it.

           What mess was that?

           It all started on a crisp spring day when her dear father got a call from the TV station wanting to do a piece on the life of the mayor and his family. Of course, Chloe was more than happy to oblige by letting the camera crew follow her around and show off her glamorous life. That is, she was more than happy. See, things changed a bit when they followed her to school, her kingdom as she called it. A place where she commanded respect and got it, or so she thought.

           “This is College Francoise Dupont. It’s where I reign as queen. Everyone here just adores me,” She held her arms out wide on the front steps.

           “Good morning, Chloe,” Sabrina greeted, attaching herself to Chloe’s side the moment she walked up.

           “Not now, Sabrina. I’m in the middle of becoming a star. Carry my bag in for me, and do not drop it,” She tossed her purse at her friend and turned back to the camera. “Now, where was I?”

           “Ugh, what’s that brat up to this time?” Marinette grumbled to Alya from the base of the stairs as they glanced up at whatever extravagant shenanigans Chloe was pulling that day.

           “Some TV interview it looks like,” Alya tilted her head to the side a little as they headed up, careful to avoid getting in the shot. They’d never hear the end of it if they ruined Chloe’s perfect image.

           “Maybe she’ll be less of a pain today because she’ll be so busy trying to look impressive,” Marinette grunted, prompting her friend to snicker and elbow her playfully.

           “I practically run this school. Everyone looks up to me and comes to me for advice. It’s exhausting being the most popular and well-liked girl sometimes,” She pressed the back of her palm to her forehead and let out an enervated sigh, and Marinette suppressed an eye roll as she tucked her books away in her locker. “Ahem.”

           Marinette glanced up to see Chloe glaring at her with her arms folded over her chest. Great. Now what?

           “You’re in the way. This isn’t a show about you, so why don’t you scurry along?” She waved her hands in front of her in a typical “shoo” motion.

           “Uh, this is my locker, Chloe. I have every right to stand here if I want,” She shot back, cocking a hip to the side.

           “The people of Paris aren’t interested in seeing your hideous fashion choices. They want to see me. So hurry up and get lost,” She said through clenched teeth, and Marinette actually did roll her eyes.

           “Whatever the queen wants,” She said mockingly, slamming her locker shut and following Alya out of the locker room.

           “Anyway- no, don’t point the camera at them, point it at me,” She snapped her fingers at the camera man. “Ugh, I’m going to ask for a more competent camera guy if you can’t focus on what’s important.”

           Of course Chloe thought nothing of her behavior because it was all normal for her. Being the boss of everyone was just who she was in her day-to-day life, and never once had she ever considered that her actions could potentially ruin her reputation, and yet everything around her crumbled in a matter of days. Unbeknownst to her, the editors left in most of her interactions with her classmates, which was fine by her because it showed how much power she had over everyone. However, she did not expect that her father would call her down to his office a couple days after the show aired with a stern frown on his face and a magazine on his desk.

           “Princess, I need to have a word with you,” He started as she reclined back in her seat and scrolled through one of her favorite online boutique’s catalogs.

           “Of course, Daddykins,” She waved for him to continue without looking up.

           “It seems as though many people have not taken well to your behavior in that piece the TV station did the other day. Many people feel that you’re rather harsh to some of your classmates, and I’ve been getting a lot of concerned calls from parents,” He clapped the tips of his fingers together lightly as he broached the subject.

           “Ugh, what a bunch of crybabies,” She rolled her eyes.

           “Well, princess, some people feel that you bully their children,” He winced when she shot up.

           “I have never bullied anyone in my life!” She threw her arms out with an exasperated scoff. “I’m a natural born leader, just like you, Daddy.”

           “I watched the footage, and I think that there are certain times where you were…excessively insistent in your demands,” He bit his lip when her eyes narrowed into an icy glare.

           “Those wannabes are just jealous because I know how to take charge and their kids don’t. It’s not my fault I’m so much better than the rest of them,” She flopped back in the chair and folded her arms over her chest indignantly.

           “Yes, well, it seems as though Paris Weekly thinks otherwise about you, sweetheart,” He flipped around the cover of the latest edition of Paris’s most-read magazine, and Chloe felt the scream shoot up from her lungs.

           “Chloe Bourgeois. Paris Princess or Evil Queen? The inside scoop on Mayor Bourgeois’s precious little devil,” Alya chuckled as she and Marinette gawked at the rather unflattering picture of Chloe yelling at an old man on the sidewalk on the cover.

           “Ouch,” Marinette winced, a smug grin stretched across her face. “How much damage control do you think she’s going to have to do for this scandal?”

           “Hopefully loads. How amazing would it be if she had to be nice to everyone for a while,” Alya could barely contain her smirk.

           “Come on. This is Chloe we’re talking about. She’s probably proud of this,” Marinette scoffed, and her best friend shrugged in agreement.

           “This is slander,” Chloe growled, clutching the magazine so tightly that the edges crumbled. “Daddy, shut them down!”

           “I am working on it as we speak, princess, but unfortunately there isn’t much I can do about this. It’s already been printed and has been seen by most of the city by now I’m sure,” He held up defensive hands when she slammed the magazine back onto his desk. “Bad press is just a consequence of being in the limelight, darling, and I assure you I’m taking the proper measures to ensure that this doesn’t happen again, but right now we need to do some damage control until we can iron everything out.”

           “Who do we have to pay to do that?” She sat back down and crossed her legs, plucking a nail file from her purse and going to work on her rough edges.

           “Well, the thing is, Chloe, it’s always more effective if you can prove their claims false,” He tapped his fingers nervously as she continued filing.

           “Well, then call them and tell them it’s false,” She ordered, and Mayor Bourgeois sighed.

           “I think it will be best if you perhaps changed your behavior for a while, sweetie,” He suggested cautiously.

           “Why? I’ve done nothing wrong,” She uncrossed her legs and sat forward.

           “I know you feel that way, darling, but there are a lot of angry people, and given my reputation as mayor, I think the only way to fix this mess is for you to change your attitude and be nicer to other people,” He clasped his hands together on his desk.

           “I am always nice to everyone! They should be honored just to be in my presence,” She turned her nose up and folded her arms over her chest.

           “It’s up to you what you’d like to do. If you continue on the way you are now, you can get used to press like this, but if you want to change, might I suggest starting by making peace with Miss Dupain-Cheng?” He winced when she shot up again.

           “Make peace with her? I’ve never done anything wrong to her! She’s the one always starting fights with me,” She growled.

           “Regardless, it might be in your best interest to befriend her. Your little feud has gone on long enough. Don’t you think it’s time to let bygones be bygones?” Chloe slumped back down with a pout, refusing to look at him for even suggesting that she be nice to Marinette.

           It was absolutely ridiculous! How could he think that she could ever be friends with that classless little brat? He must be getting senile in his old age because there was no way she was going to ask Marinette to be her friend. No amount of bad press was worth that! Tabloids were tabloids, and she was certain that it would all blow over soon enough.

           Though she soon realized just how wrong she was, or maybe she just wasn’t as patient as she thought because for the next several weeks, more anonymous “victims” stepped forward with stories about her that showed up in more and more magazines. Every time she so much as looked at the sky wrong, there was a new article printed about her, and she finally reached her breaking point one afternoon when she was heading into the locker room and bumped into none other than the girl who had a cocky smirk plastered on her face way too often these days.

           “Hey, watch it,” She growled, and Chloe felt her last nerve snap.

           “Me watch it? Why don’t you watch it! I know you’re so thrilled with how my life is going right now because this is all your doing,” She spat, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

           “You’ve lost your mind if you think this is my fault,” Marinette grunted, folding her arms over her chest. “The only reason you’re in this mess is because you’re horrible to literally everyone, and the world finally realized.”

           “That is not true!” She shouted, stomping her foot. “This is all your fault, Marinette!”

           “Chloe-”

           “You did this to me!”

           “Chloe, stop-”

           “I hate you!”

           “Chloe Bourgeois on the attack again, folks. Will she ever learn to be nice to her classmates?” She spun around to find a news camera in her face, and she screamed, racing for the bathroom.

           “That’s enough! You have disrupted my institution enough as of late,” Mr. Damocles growled as he and Mr. Hapréle shooed them back through the front doors.

           Marinette cautiously stepped over to the bathroom and pressed her ear to the door. She could hear Chloe’s loud sobs through the wood and slowly stepped back a few paces. Part of her felt a little bad for her because she couldn’t catch a break, but on the other hand, she felt like it was time someone knocked her down a peg. Going in there would only make things worse, so Marinette crept back to her locker quietly, hoping to just avoid her for the rest of the day, but after sometime she was surprised when Chloe emerged and approached her, puffy-eyed and sniffling.

           “I need your help.”

I grew up watching a show called Ali G. It’s undoubtedly one of the greatest masterpieces of the early 2000s. If you haven’t seen it you’re either 13 years old, over 65, or have terrible taste in TV. Seriously it’s that good of a show.The show involved a guy interviewing a bunch of intellectuals and acting like a complete dumbass during it. Guests even included a young Donald Trump [1], to who Ali pitched the idea of an ice cream glove. Needless to say The Don didn’t invest.Ali would dress like a moron, mispronounce the simplest of words, and say the most absurd roll-on-the-floor-funny things. If you’re not familiar with the show go to Youtube and watch a few clips. [3]Here’s the crazy thing. 90% of interviewees came away thinking Ali was the moron. The idiots couldn’t identify the clear-as-daylight joke being played, nor could they see the fun side of it all. They were so rigid and detached from reality they took everything literally. In turn they came of looking like complete morons..The Dumbest People Always Think They’re The Smartest.Despite the interviewees coming off as stick-up-the-ass stiffs to anyone who watched them, rest assured they came away believing they were smarter than ever. After all meeting such a buffoon like Ali only reinforced how smart and intellectually superior they were.In short they were blind to reality.This is exactly how 90% of the entrepreneur community is. Complete morons. Yet they can’t see it. Let me explain.The whole theme of the entrepreneur sphere is work work work. Focus focus focus. Sacrifice everything. Work 18 hour days, work 7 days a week, work holidays. Don’t buy coffees – instead save the $3 and invest it. Discussions about whether being married or having girlfriends affects success. Don’t take vacations. Sleep 3 hours a day…. And so on.Basically live a life like shit.Don’t get me wrong, I get the premise. The thought being work hard and sacrifice a good time now, for a phenomenal time in the future. I understand the theory completely.The problem with this is two-fold.First, less than 2% of budding entrepreneurs ever become even financially well-off. By this I mean having enough money and savings to live out the last 15 years of their lives without working. The success rate is rock bottom.Second, it’s nothing short of insanity to work away the best years of your life. Time can’t be replaced my friend. It’s about the only thing that can’t. If you’ve ever look back on periods of your life and thought you should’ve used them better – or ever felt old – then guess what this horrid mentality will bite you in the dick later on. This high-work mediocre-pay setup is the ultimate waste of life..Don’t Work Away The Best Years Of Your Life. But Also Don’t Give Up On Earning Money.The world is beautiful baby. Friends, people and lovers are what makes life worth living. There’s fun in the simplest of things. Splashing about in a beautiful clearwater ocean, “wasting” a lazy Sunday afternoon watching a dumb comedy eating pizza, getting drunk and acting like clowns with your friends. That’s what life’s about.NEVER sacrifice all of that just for money. But at the same time understand pizzas, vacations, and hauling your drunk asses into taxis cost money. And the more money you have the more you’ll be able to enjoy the world.Money matters my friend. Anyone saying otherwise is deluded (or wishes it were true so they could be at ease with their lack of money).I’ve always hated the saying “Money can’t buy you happiness”[3]. That’s asking too much from money. But there’s no doubt money helps support happiness if you used smartly – whereas poverty doesn’t..So… What Should You Do?.I didn’t write this article to give you a step-by-step solution. It’s simply a reminder to balance what matters in your life.I quit my office job three years ago because it was killing my soul. I was working something I hated, and giving up my health, relationships and livelihood to do it. I was missing out on the world and what really mattered to me. It’s why I left to work for myself.Admittedly I much preferred working for myself, but it was still at the expense of everything else. I was working every day and barely did or met anyone else. At least before I had my weekends.My bliss came from learning to cut down my hours, by learning to charge a shitload more.In 2014 I was charging between £20-30 an hour – and worked around 45 billable hours [4]. It brought me around £3600 a month. It was mayhem. I felt burnt out. It was shit.Compare this with last year where I worked 19 billable hours total per week. I charged between £100 to £205 per hour and got all the work done from Mon to Wed, giving me four days off to do what I wanted. I brought in close £11,000 a month, and had the time to do more of what I loved. As a result my friendships and relationships with my wife and family have deepened, not to mention I look and feel great.This year I’ve got 4 hours billed at £280 an hour a piece (that’s £4480 guaranteed a month). And I’m hoping to pick up 4 or 5 hours more. And I’m going to get all my work done and dusted on a Monday, and take the other 6 days off to do whatever I want. I’m expecting to earn £8,500 a month.It’s less but who gives a fuck when I get 6 days off. It’s more than plenty to cover expenses, live a life of relative luxury, and put away a big chunk so I can retire hopefully in my 40s (I’m currently 30 years old).For me learning the skill of charging more for what I do has single-handedly transformed my life..The Art Of Charging (Lots) More Money Per Hour.Not everyone is comfortable with charging more money. They either feel secretly guilty to charge so much more than they currently are, or think it’s not possible to get anyone to pay them the kind of fees I’ve talked about.The guilt is a personal issue. Some people mentally can’t bring themselves around to charging a higher fee – even if they have someone who’s willing to pay them. They just wouldn’t be able to quote the fee. If that’s you, I can’t help with that. Either you feel guilty or you don’t. If you do I doubt it’s possible to charge the “super-fees” I’m talking about.If you’re ok with charging the money, but don’t think it’s possible to charge that much – then my friend you are wrong. I understand the thinking, but it’s absolute rubbish.Most people think you need to be an expert to charge mega bucks. They think it takes years of qualifications, experience or you need to have some sort of “reputation” before they have the right to charge even double the average. This is utter crap. You’re self-employed. Nobody chooses this but you.For the record I work in the UK, in an industry where the national average is £22/hour for what I do. You’ll barely see anyone charge even £35/hour. For some reason £30/hour is considered the top-end.As mentioned I have charged £205/hour for what I do. In October I have 4 hours confirmed at £280/hour. Grab a calculator, that’s over 12 times the national average. And remember I only have 3 years of the supposedly sacred “experience” under my belt.Don’t make any mistake about the quality of my work. I’m good at what I do. Truth is most people in any field are shit at what they do. The “average” market rate reflects crap work. If you’re not shit at what you do you should be charging more.There’s always someone willing to spend big money to find the right person. Believe me people piss away big money on dumber things all the time… (Just think of low income people queuing up in their thousands to buy the newest iPhone).Anyway that’s enough for now. Hopefully this little ramble has opened your eyes to the dumbness of working your life away, and more importantly to that you can and should charge more (assuming you can actually do what you claim to).SIDE RAMBLE POINTS FROM POST ABOVE[1] I’m not pro-trump nor am I anti-trump like much of the fundamental left-winged corners of internet and by no means want to be associated with that crap on either side. I respect any man who’s made something of himself – but have absolutely no care for politics. Saying that watch Ali Pitch to Trump here – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkuOuxRD1Bc[2] Who knows, maybe this birthed Dragons Den (or Shark Tank for you American readers)[3] Trust me it’s better than the poor ball-less excuses for comedies like Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mum[4] A tired cliché spewed by many including my mum. Did I mention we grew up kinda poor for a while? (Now I think about it, she seemed to say it less once my dad made some more money. Hmmm…)[5] I say billable hours, because I worked outside of that preparing stuff. I estimate it was around 15 hours, so likely worked 60-odd hour weeks. It was a piece of shit time..If you want to learn what I've learnedIf you liked the post and found it helpful or insightful in some way then please upvote and leave a comment. It takes a buttload of time and effort to churn out one of these articles. You pour your heart into it, and a comment means the world to a writer. Otherwise it's like writing for a brick wall.I'm also in the process of writing my new ebook The 10 Dark Laws of Charging (and Getting) Monster-Fees.You can grab it by heading over to my site The High Fee Club and entering the asked details in the sidebar (or bottom of page if viewing on mobile).I warn you in advance that I will ask for your email. That's completely your choice. Remember, I'm not sticking a gun to your head.The book contains the methods and strategies which have worked for me. Every word in the book comes from personal experience. The material inside isn't always pretty, but it works. You won't see me regurgitating material I know nothing about. It's 100% Free but I do ask for your email address. (Simply enter your details into the website sidebar - or at the bottom of the page if you're viewing it on a mobile device)By all means feel free to ask any questions. I'm out and about the whole day so won't be back for a good few hours, but I'd love to answer any cool questions once I'm back.