#because i have checked too many job sites and applied to nearly every place here at this point

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

KILL4ME

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader (and kind of x female!OC but that’s not the main focus of anything) 

Summary: You're a new actress trying to get your start. You end up getting your first role cast in a music video for Marilyn Manson’s “KILL4ME” music video but it turns out to be much more than you expected. 

Warnings: SMUT (male x female, female x female) 

A/N: 1) I made the reader straight with no prior female x female experiences. I don’t know why if I’m being honest but that’s how it is so please don’t come at me for it. 2) This is NOT how the film industry should work. If you’re trying to get into the industry, please stay safe, be responsible, and recognize red flags. Typically, randomly popping up pornographic requests is NOT professional or safe. This is just a fantasy I had while watching the music video and was written this way strictly for entertainment purposes. 

Word Count: 5696

__________________________

This project requires nudity and sexual scenes. If you are not comfortable, do not apply. 

The warning had been clear as day and yet, here you were, sitting in your car at the old mansion that was the filming site, nerves going off the charts and feeling less than comfortable with the imminent nudity and sexual scenes. You were an actor, you reminded yourself. This was the only job you’d landed since arriving in Los Angeles and, despite your promises to yourself and your family that you wouldn’t resort to full nudity for a project, there were bills that needed paying and your waitressing job wasn’t cutting it. 

Besides, shouldn’t you be thrilled? This wasn’t just any music video you’d landed a role in but a music video for Marilyn Manson! He was a goth rock legend and you couldn’t hide your excitement when you’d found out who you’d been booked to work for.

But still, the nudity and sexuality made you uneasy. There hadn’t been a script or anything. Your only instructions were to come looking your best and with an open, ready to work mindset. So here you were, physically feeling like a million bucks but butterflies going crazy within. 

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, you opened the door to your barely working 2008 Honda Civic, feeling even more self-conscious when you saw the other cars that were parked outside of the massive mansion were all beautiful and sleek, most of them black and very expensive looking. 

Crew members stirred around outside, entering and exiting the house with lights and props and sound equipment, everything needed for the production. You walked through the large black door that led into the beautiful white mansion, opening into an equally fantastic interior. You audibly gasped, “This is beautiful…” 

“Y/N?” A woman’s voice questioned from beside you and you spun quickly to face her, snapping out of your amazed daze. 

“Yes.” You answered hastily. 

She checked the clipboard in her hand, “Great, you’re right on time. Come right this way, we’re gonna get you into hair and makeup.” You were about to reply when she’d taken off down the hall without giving you a moment to speak so you followed, avoiding the moving equipment around you. 

Before you knew it, you’d been whisked away into a small room that was full of makeup, hair styling tools, and costumes. Nobody told you what they were doing as they pulled your hair straight and did up your makeup, surprisingly simpler than you’d expected with just light eyeshadow and moderate eyeliner. 

“Alrighty, now I’m gonna have you undress and put on that robe over there.” The man in charge of costumes directed. 

Your brows furrowed, “How undressed?” 

“All the way, sweetie. No panties, no bra. It’s all gotta go.” He must have seen the uneasy look on your face because he gave you an unsympathetic shrug, “You signed up for a nude project, hun. Welcome to Hollywood.” 

**

“Y/N is here. I believe that’s it, Mr. Manson.” The same woman as earlier announced as you entered the room you were supposed to be briefed in. It took everything in your power to remain professional when you saw Marilyn Manson standing there, talking casually with another girl who you assumed to be a co-star.

Like you, his makeup was already done up and he was in full costume. His face was painted pale white with a black loop drawn across one half and his other half blank except for the unnaturally blue contact and dark panda-like eyeliner.  His lips were stained bright red and you almost felt like you were looking at a picture of him online. 

“Thank you, Yolanda.” None other than The Marilyn Manson (and yes, “The” was now an official part of his name in your mind) thanked the woman who you assumed to be an assistant. “Come on in, Y/N.” He beckoned you into the room and you tried to front your most professional, most confident face but the way you held your robe tight to your body gave you away. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Manson.” You came up, reaching to shake his hand, “It’s a real honor to get to work with you.” Kiss ass, you muttered to yourself. 

Instead of shaking your hand, he simply waved his hand in the air, “Ah, the pleasantries. I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you as well.” 

You retracted your extended hand awkwardly, unsure of whether or not that was a blow off or him just being mysterious and cool, and scuttled to stand with the other girl. She was beautiful and blonde, tall and thin. Model-esque. You felt insecure next to her, especially in front of someone as influential as Manson. You were just you, an inexperienced actress-to-be, on her first professional job with a bunch of people who definitely knew their way around a camera. 

“Alright, so I know you came here with minimal details,” Marilyn began, a weirdly neutral look on his very painted face, his tone flat and low. It was hard to read him with his contacts in. “Hopefully, that’s a good sign this will work well. You’re both willing to take risks. You’re flexible. Well, I’m here to give you the details. As you know, there is nudity and sex required for this video. It will be between you two,” You stiffened up awkwardly as he gestured all too casually between the two of you, “And my old friend here.” 

On cue, none other than Johnny Depp walked into the room. Your jaw visibly hit the floor. There is no fucking way. “Hello.” He greeted with a smile, the same smile that you’d seen millions of times in his movies that you’d binged every so often. 

Were you the only one feeling so shocked? Why the hell was the actress next to you so calm? Why was Johnny so calm? You were about pretend to fuck Johnny fucking Depp! 

Johnny stepped forward to shake your hand, “I’m Johnny, nice to meet you,” He introduced politely. 

Starstruck, you took his hand, “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you as well.” Then he leaned down and kissed your hand, actually kissed your hand like a fucking gentleman, eyes never leaving yours. God, the way he looked up at you through his strands of middle parted 90’s hair… it was enough to make your breath catch. 

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he moved from you to the girl next to you, “I’m Marie.” She responded to his introduction politely. He brought her hand to his lips as well but, maybe you were crazy - just imagining some fantasy, but it felt detached and fast when he did it to her. 

“Great, well now that we all know each other,” Marilyn interjected as Johnny moved back to stand by his friend, “I’ll continue. I’ve already shot my parts so I’ll be here to direct you if needed but I want this as natural as possible. Aside from a few artistic shots, I need this to be raw, primal, and absolutely fucking filthy.” 

You and Marie listened on in intent silence, soaking in his every word. But you found it hard to focus when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny eyeing you. No, no, it couldn’t be. He was probably just zoned out behind you. 

*** 

A few hours later, all of the artistic shots had been done. There were shots of you pulling up thigh high stockings that clipped onto the garter belts hanging from your nearly sheer black underwear and having a leather corset tightened tightly on your back, cinching your waist smaller than you’d ever seen it. You had put on massively high heels and large, luxurious costume jewelry. 

Even though the outfit could be seen as objectifying, you’d never felt more confident or powerful in your life. After your last shot of just your nearly bare thighs, you were dismissed momentarily so Marie could film her sections. 

You walked over to your bag and took out a water bottle, not realizing how much this took out of you, running the same seemingly simple shots over and over again under blaring lights. “How long have you been acting?” 

Oh God. It was him. 

You turned to see Johnny standing next to you, very close, much closer than was considered polite distance but not so close that you felt suffocated. He looked gorgeous, hair hanging perfect from his beautiful tan skin. Earrings hung from his lobes, dangling just slightly. His white button up shirt was only buttoned half way, showing off his smooth, toned chest that barely showed any signs of his older age (not that he was ancient but he was definitely on your list of celebrities over 45 that you would let rail you). But the cherry on top was the eyeliner. The fucking eyeliner. It took you back to so many of his characters that you’d fallen in love with but with the white shirt and earrings, you were getting almost a refined Jack Sparrow crossed with Sweeney Todd feeling and God you’d never been so turned on by a pirate/ serial killer. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you blinked rapidly, totally horrified that you’d been staring. 

“Oh! Sorry! Um, this is my first real shoot, actually. You know how Hollywood is…” You chuckled awkwardly, reaching your hand around to rub your neck. Of course, he knew how Hollywood was, stupid! You cursed yourself, hoping you didn’t sound as dumb as you felt. 

He leaned a hand up against the wall, “Yeah, I know how that is. But don’t worry, this is a great place to start.” He reassured, looking away at the set oh so casually. Your eyes trailed up his arm that had planted itself just beside you on the wall. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing? 

No! He was Johnny Depp. He could have whichever woman he wanted at the bat of an eyelash. Why would he want you? 

“Y/N! We’re ready for your scene with Marie!” The director called to you from behind the camera and you perked up. 

“I better go.” You nodded over to the set, walking away awkwardly, almost scared that you be perceived as rude for having to do your job. 

He chuckled and waved you on. This made you blush bright red and turn to run off to set. 

You found yourself directed to a bed, “All right,” The director began, Marilyn standing directly next to him, hand on his chin as he watched his vision be brought to life, “Now, first, we’re going to get shots of you making out. I need it hot, I need it passionate. I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl before, make it look like you have. Next, we’re going to do totally nude shots of you grinding.” 

Your eyelids fluttered slightly in shock at what he said. Okay, you could do that, you hyped yourself up. 

Before you knew it, you were lying on the bed, Marie on top of you. Her soft lips were against yours and her nails raked gently down your throat, sending shocks down your body. Even though you were acting, it was hard to separate the feelings that arose, regardless of your sexuality. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you like this. Your hands tangled in her hair and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Cut!” The director yelled and Marie immediately pulled back, snapping out of character and back into her over-professional attitude. You, on the other hand, needed a brief moment to pull out of character. After just a second, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, Marie still straddling you. Your breasts filled the tight push up bra you wore but you felt surprisingly comfortable in it, even around all these people. That was, until you glanced over to see Johnny standing beside Marilyn, at first looking at a monitor and reviewing footage, but then over at you, his gaze stuck on your accentuated chest. 

Your face flushed red as you quickly looked away, not seeing the amused smirk that graced his face. Little did you know, he was very aware of what he was doing and very pleased with your reaction.  

“That was perfect. Now we’re gonna move onto the sex scenes.” He waved you and Marie over and you obeyed once she climbed off your torso.

Marilyn and Johnny too came over, completing the small group. Marilyn spoke, “Now you knew there was sex and nudity and I’m very pleased with how this is turning out,” He paused, giving you both a very serious look, “But now, I’m going to ask something of you that you probably aren’t comfortable with. Usually with sex scenes, there’s fabric in place to hide cocks and shit but I don’t want any of that. It distracts actors from the scene and there’s always the issue of whether or not you see it. I want raw, I want primal, I want absolutely fucking filthy.” 

He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you and Marie to piece together his request, but filling in the rest when he saw both of your professional exteriors crack in confusion, “I want you to all actually fuck. Only if you’re comfortable with it but if you’re not you’ll be paid for the work you’ve done and we’ll find someone to replace you.” 

You nearly choked, “Like… porn? You want this to be porn?” Johnny chuckled to himself, seeing your embarrassed, nervous reaction. You were so cute. 

He looked pensive for just a moment  before nodding, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He answered bluntly, “Like I said, only if you’re comfortable with it but, if not, you’ll be fired for the rest of the video.” 

Oh God, were you really about to agree to porn? Like actual fucking porn? Three way porn at that! But three porn with Johnny Depp…. It was the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do. But then again, your rent was due in two weeks and you were $300 short. “I’m in.” You answered, almost regretting it immediately. 

“Me too.” Marie agreed, long arms crossed across her chest. 

“Good. Now let’s get to it.” 

** 

The lesbian sex scene had gone by relatively hitch free, save for a few awkward placement issues. Marie, being straight as an arrow, had no clue what she was doing, and you too were inexperienced in the department but with a little direction, the scene was finished. 

She knelt on her knees, holding your naked hips up and grinding your bare core against her own. Your eyes were closed, trying to remember every previous sexual encounter and porno you’d seen to try and make the sexiest faces and the sexiest form.

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off you as you writhed on the bed, completely naked and grinding up against another beautiful woman. Everything about you looked so authentic but innocent but dirty. He found himself craving you in the most unprofessional ways as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your hips. 

When the scene was over, you nearly jumped off the bed and rushed for your robe. You were embarrassingly wet right now, the eye contact you’d made with Johnny while having your clit rubbed was just absolutely intoxicating and you were just thankful that you were able to control yourself enough to not get your juices all over Marie. 

As they changed the scene around, you stood beside Johnny and Marilyn. “Method actor?” He asked. 

You cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” 

“You looked pretty into the scene up there. Wonder what you were thinking about…” He continued. Your heart was in your throat. His tone was dark and sultry and implied exactly what he thought you were thinking about and boy was he correct. “As a method actor myself, I completely understand your… position.” 

Johnny looked down at you, his dark eyes unyielding as he dove into your very soul and could see you every fantasy. 

“Okay! Everyone on set!” 

** 

Ignore the cameras, you screamed at yourself. You’re not doing porn, you’re just having a threesome with Johnny Depp and some girl named Marie. Yeah, that was a convincing story to tell yourself. Just relax in this totally normal situation. Pfft, as if. 

But you were an actress. Then something occurred to you, the ghost of a voice spoke to you. It was actually words spoken by Johnny in an old interview you’d seen him do, words that had stuck with you as a foundation in your training: “The most important thing that an actor needs to do is not to act, but to react. That's what it is all about, and you do one of the most difficult things in the world, which is to just be--to be in the state of being.”

Just relax. React to the scene. Be in the scene. Hell, this wasn’t even a scene anymore. This was a secret fantasy you’d never known you’d had coming to life. There wasn’t even any acting involved. So just be. 

“Action!” 

Immediately in character, you caressed Marie sexually, hands running along her sides as you nipped along her neck. Now that you were the dominant character, her scantily clad body was putty in your hands. Your teeth raked along her skin and you felt her shudder beneath your touch, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. 

Then a quiet metallic sound drew your attention. You and Marie both looked over towards the ornate door to see Johnny standing there, looking in through the gold grated peephole. 

Marie looked at you, her eyes full of question. Should you let him in? Honestly, you weren’t sure if your characters knew who he was. No! Stop, you’re not playing a character now. You’re you. You are the character. 

You chewed your lip seductively and walked over, legs crossing and hips rocking as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor. You reached down, perfectly manicured fingers gripping the handle delicately and unlocked the door. Before he could even get ahold of his surroundings, you had him by the collar and pulled him in. He could play all the sexy flirty games he wanted, but right now, you were in control and you were going to make him want you more than anything, even if it all was just for the camera. 

His hands found your hips immediately as he attempted to steady himself but, gosh, all he wanted to do was take you here and now, preferably without Marie or the cameras, but he figured that if that’s what it took to fuck you, he was more than willing to compromise. 

You pulled him in, your lips finally crashing against his. At first, he was hesitant but only for half a second, before he returned the kiss with even more fervor than you’d gone in with. Marie came up on his side and nibbled his ear, hands roaming up and down his chest between your very close bodies. 

Johnny pulled back from this kiss and twisted just enough to snake an arm around Marie’s thin body and led her to face you. Then his hands came to firmly hold the back of each of your necks and forced your faces together, pressing you and the other woman to kiss. You both complied obediently, a strange mix of submissively and dominantly, like you were submitting to him but then fighting between the two of you. 

Her lips moved graciously against yours, smooth and soft. It was so much more different than kissing a man. This felt delicate still despite the absolute filth that was ensuing. Her hand shot out to hold you by the jaw and pulled you in roughly, Johnny’s hand almost not needing to do anything. 

He watched in amazement as the two of you obeyed his every physical command, the way you both looked so lost in each other. He knew you were straight just by interacting with you earlier but you could have had him fooled now. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in threeway with two other girls but this was definitely the hottest one. Before, it was all just to see if he could pull it off and then just to have the novelty of having girls bend to his will but this was different. You were different. He couldn't really explain it but he was completely enamored by you. An air of innocence surrounded you from the moment he set eyes on your otherworldly beauty but the saw in your eyes a fire that burned with the ability to be more than that. He was determined to see just how hot that fire burned. 

He pulled you and Marie apart before bringing her to kiss him. While he did, his free hand absentmindedly groped your chest, your breasts spilling from the top of your push up bra. A twinge of jealousy went through you as you watched them kiss, although you knew how irrational it was. They were actors. You were too. There was nothing personal about this. But, for some unexplainable, unprofessional reason, there was for you. 

You slinked behind the older man like a cat and ran your fingertips ever so gently across his closed shoulders and down his biceps. They trailed down his sides as his body moved from the intense makeout session with Marie before coming around to tease over his growing bulge. In his black well fitting pants. 

His body tensed ever so slightly, barely noticeable except to you two, when your hand made contact with his erection. You smirked to yourself, a dark, sexy smile, the kind of smile you’d expect to see in a twisted Tim Burton film. You were finally the mysterious gothic beauty you’d always imagined yourself as in all of his stories. 

With swift fingerwork and a quick, almost too skilled, flick of your wrist, you had Johnny’s belt whipped off him and held firmly in your hands. He pulled Marie off of him and shoved her roughly onto the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you walked in circles around him, trailing your gaze up and down his perfect body and dragging the leather of his belt on his torso and thighs as you did so. 

The way you looked at him, like a lioness about to devour her prey, made Johnny feel like he was on fire. You seemed so in control and confident and you had a way of touching him, as if you knew exactly what made him tick. It was intoxicating. 

His shirt was unbuttoned in a matter of seconds and without warning, he had you pressed back against the mattress as well. He crawled over your body, rolling his hips just right against your clothed core. A small, quiet whisper of a moan escaped your lips at the sudden, well placed contact. 

Your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you, forcing his head into your neck. He kissed and sucked and nipped and licked just right, like he had a map to your body. You were embarrassingly wet from just kissing and you secretly prayed that nobody noticed but you were too lost in the moment to do anything about it. 

Your leg wrapped around his waist and pulled him into you again. “Fuck…” His voice was a raspy, low whisper, said just loud enough for you three to hear. 

Johnny kissed down your neck and across your breasts, moving over to Marie’s chest, which he dove into with full force. She squirmed and moaned beside you as he assaulted her perfect breasts. You rolled over as far as you could and caught her lips in yours, swallowing her moans. 

That was, until Johnny’s hand trailed down to rub your core. You gasped into Marie’s full lips and rolled your hips into his hand, begging for more. Suddenly, he sat back onto his heels and grabbed your hips roughly, flipping you over onto all fours like he’d done it a million times before. “Ah!” You squealed slightly at the sudden action. 

He climbed off the bed and knelt just behind you, palms rubbing over your ass and admiring every inch of you. Marie adjusted to sit just in front of you, legs spread to reveal her bare vagina before you. You weren’t sure when she’d lost her underwear but low and behold here you were face to face with all she had to bear. You’d never eaten a girl out before but you’d seen enough porn and fooled around with yourself enough to know what might work as a good start. 

Cautiously, you started a few kitten licks to her clit, noticing every flinch or shudder that left her lips. Just as you began to get the hang of it, there was a loud rip as you felt the fabric of your panties be literally torn from your body. You gasped loudly, looking back behind you to see Johnny with his tongue between his teeth, admiring your body. 

Johnny ran his surprisingly soft hands up and down your ass before dragging his fingertips through your already dripping folds. You moaned against Marie’s clit, her hands pulling on your hair, as his fingers circled your clit. You pressed your hips back against him, begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige. 

Before you knew it, the three of you were a tangle of limbs. At all times, you were being touched by someone, whether it was groping your chest, your ass, or your pussy, but it was always a game trying to figure out who it was. The heat was becoming unbearable and you were grateful for the lack of clothing. Your body was slicked in sweat, both yours and Johnny’s mostly. 

He’d taken a clear preference to you and you almost felt bad for Marie but you didn’t feel too bad, seeing as how your lifelong fantasies were coming true. When someone was touching you, it was almost always Johnny, although he didn’t let his bias completely ruin the shot. He was a professional after all. 

Soon, after at least ten minutes of blind fingering and hand jobs, you found yourself straddling Johnny as he lied naked on the bed. This was it, the moment you actually had sex with Johnny Depp. He held his large erection in one hand, guiding it to your entrance and then moved his hands to grip your hips tightly, lowering you down onto this length. 

“Oh my… fuck-” You hissed out, throwing your head back as you adjusted to him. You’d never felt so full before, so complete. Without even moving, he made you feel absolutely incredible. 

He chuckled sexily below you, loving your reaction. This whole scene had been a game with you, fighting for who was seducing who, who was in charge, but here he was finally proving it was him. 

You steadied yourself on his chest, soft hands splayed out against his surprisingly taught, tattooed skin. To look at him like this, you never would have guessed how much older he was than you. He could pass for a very handsome man in his thirties easily. 

You swiveled your hips experimentally and clenched your walls around his cock. Johnny sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips dug harshly into your skin, sure to leave little bruises in their place. You looked down and locked eye contact with him through your long eyelashes, your hair disheveled and hanging in your face sexily, as you squeezed your muscles around him yet again and moved your hips. 

“Fucking hell.” He groaned out beautifully, short nails digging crescents into your skin. His grip moved to cup your ass cheeks from below, grabbing them firmly and moving you up and down until you found a pace that worked for both of you. 

Marie lied on the bed beside Johnny, one leg strewn across his chest and the other behind your bouncing body, as she toyed with her clit with one hand and fingered herself with the other. 

You reached down to play with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between your soft fingertips but the action was half hearted at best. All you could focus on was how Johnny felt inside you, hitting all the right spots. How you had him at your will just as much as you were at his. His hair was strewn around his face on the pillows like a damn god, his eyeliner smeared every so slightly from the sweat. His eyes screwed shut every now and then but otherwise, he looked at you like no other man had ever looked at you before. 

He reached between your bodies and found your clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles. Your walls began to clench uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm nearing. Your back arched as you leaned back, moving your hands to rest on his thighs as you rose and fell on his length. Marie leaned down, attaching her lips to your perked nipples and biting one gently, licking over the skin to soothe it before doing it again. 

Johnny reached down to finger her roughly as she ravaged your breasts. You continued to bounce, the new angle hitting that perfect spot inside you. “I’m gonna-” Marie whined out, her voice high and seductive. 

You nodded quickly, eyes screwed shut, “Me too!” You exclaimed, trying with all your might to stave off your orgasm for as long as possible but the pleasure was just building up too much. 

“Cum for me.” Johnny demanded from both of you and that was all it took for you to crash over the edge. Hot flashes stroke across your body in electric waves as your body failed to keep moving. He continued to lift your body for you, helping you ride out your high but his fingers dug tightly into your skin when your walls spasmed uncontrollably around him. 

“Fuck!” Marie whined out, her legs shaking against Johnny’s body as she came. 

You reluctantly rolled off Johnny’s body when you felt him lift you off and rested off to the side, breathing heavily while you recovered. He got up onto his knees next to you and stroked himself quickly, aggressively, using your slick to glide his hand across his erection, before painting Marie’s body in white ribbons. 

“And cut!” The director’s voice yelled out, harshly returning you from your daydream. Your eyes suddenly snapped as wide as a deer caught in headlights as the studio lights flicked on around you and the crew was visible again. The reality of everything came crashing down on you. Shit, that wasn’t some secret fantasy in your head. That was a pornographic threesome with Johnny Depp and some woman named Marie! 

You glanced over to the more experienced actress and breathed out a sigh of relief to see her looking the same way you did, completely shocked and a little disappointed at what you’d agreed to, but too pleased and amazed at what you’d just done to care too much before. 

Johnny, on the other hand, looked like he was already recovering with a cool exterior. He’d already begun climbing off the bed to get his clothes back on, leaving you and Marie alone on the bed to register what had happened. 

“Fuck me, that was hot.” Marilyn stepped onto the set, completely comfortable and practically ignoring the fact that he’d just watched his best friend fuck two women. You blushed a bright red. Great, you forgot that Marilyn Manson now would have the image of you fucking in his memories for forever. Not exactly the impression you typically went for in Hollywood… Or was it? 

The director watched over the footage, “They looked like they were enjoying themselves a little too much.” He snorted, pointing out something on the screen to Marilyn and you just prayed that it wasn’t a funny face you made in the heat of the moment. 

Marilyn waved him off, “No such thing as too much fun with sex, Paul.”  

Even though the crew were all doing their various jobs, you were convinced that every eye was on you. WIth a beet red face, you slinked out of the bed, hands covering your breasts and keeping your thighs as close together as you could, trying to shield your nudity from the room. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your body, it was just the feeling of being so exposed to a room full of strangers that made the blood rush to your face. 

You rushed around, trying to pick up whatever small scrap of clothing you could identify as yours. On the ground, beside the bed, was a crumpled heap of thin stringy black fabric. Your underwear! “Thank God!” You murmured to yourself, bending down to pick it up, only to have it fall in two, rendered unwearable. 

Your face dropped when you saw it and sighed, starting to become more comfortable in your naked skin but more so because you had no other choice at the moment. Could you even request clothing from the crew? Where did your actual clothes end up? Why did you even think that was a ridiculous request to want your clothes back? 

Just as you dropped the shredded underwear, ready to find a crew member and get your clothes back, you heard Johnny chuckle, low and sexy behind you, “You’re a great method actor,” He complimented with a wink and slight smirk, knowing damn well what he meant, the nonchalance of his entire being making you dumbfounded, “Perhaps, we could do this again under less professional circumstances.” 

And with the invitation, said in the most casual way - as if inviting you for coffee, he pushed the last button through the loop of his pristine white button up, and walked to find his best friend, leaving you standing on set, naked, clutching the underwear he’d literally ripped from your body just minutes earlier, eyes on his majestic figure and trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. 

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha

Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild Pt. 3

Read Pt 1 | Pt 2

Notes: Not writing out an entire cohesive story, but just hitting y’all with lore and the occasional scene is refreshing for me, but also like... I feel like I leave out so much since I’m not painting the full picture of it. So, because this is an installment of when they “met,” figured this is the good place to tell exactly what they look like. Sure, Birgundi Baker is too old to play the roles she plays and Shani is 16, but Birgundi’s look is perfect, so she is Birgundi at a 16 year old version.

Atlas, has no FC, because the image doesn’t exist in Hollywood, as far as I could find: Brown eyes, red hair, a freckles/acne collab skin type - this kid is covered in freckles - and will have acne his entire life, broad shoulders, tall, large ears, hands, feet, and Adam’s apple. Generally scowling. Has an overbite when he smiles and it's the only thing he's really self conscious about at first because when he does smile, it seems to be the thing that people's eyes move towards.

* Shani tells him it's because they're so used to boring, perfect teeth that a smile with character gives them the wrong reaction. "It makes me smile bigger," she adds, with a little shrug. He blushes and tells her to shut up.*

@shslargue​ @jacksope-lives​  Thank you for putting up with fragments of an idea that I wish I could mold into a world for you both.

A Savior is Born: The Rise of the Rebels 01

Shani: Objective problem solver, analytical mind, sometimes mistaken for being cold or detached, overthinker who doubts herself and tends to worry that she’s potentially acted or reacted without thinking with her heart.

Her field of study is communications, with special interest in linguistics, because comm can get her a media job and this is one of the careers that can make for a comfortable life in their society (lucrative, if she can handle various languages and/or several fields of communications). She’s focused on intercultural and multilingual communications at the start of the story and has a bunch of stuff about language and speech in her brain.

School is only available for pay, and Shani has applied for a program to work for her schooling - which includes lodging, clothing and food, but is extremely expensive. Students in said programs typically only have time for school and work, having to work an equal amount of hours to process payment for courses and meals, and having to put in a certain amount of hours per dollar amount of clothing, food, and class resources. She has everything available for her education accessible, but in the event that she can’t work for it, she loses that access.

Shani has been working her way through this school system since she was 10.

Prior to that, her parents struggled to pay for her to have a bright start, and also homeschooled, when they could, with outdated publications of any books that they could find, to stimulate her mind and figure out what she might excel in, because they couldn’t afford testing and she wasn’t on the successful track that kids with money were put on. Being a smart child and excellent student, Shani soon earned the right to apply for the scholarship. 

At that point, she moved into the dormitories, ate in a cafeteria that was typically full of students BUSY studying, as study hall was more expensive than at home study, and many of them had too many work hours to get a decent amount of study time in. 

Shani rarely struggled with taking in information, performed tests extremely well and didn’t take too long to complete homework, as to not interfere an extreme amount with her work schedule. A lot of the kids who were barely hanging on resent her for it, and one particular event that occurs when she’s 16 between herself and a few students who were being removed from school due to grades or insufficient work hours (both of which, at the time, Shani had the displeasure of having to be record keeper of), she was jumped and while she only shielded herself to prevent maximum damage, the aggressors had a matching story that she was involved in a fight with them and she received her sentence (and lesson that kids like her better know their place), along with an academic probation and a fine from the school. 

It was taken into consideration that for all 6 years of being in the program, she made excellent scores in all school assignments, performed admirably in all job assignments, and held perfect attendance. She wasn’t removed from the program during her sentencing, but would have to complete her courses remotely while serving her time, or repeat her semester later (having to work to pay off both the “abandoned” one and the one that she would have to make up. So, she chose to continue remotely, through her sentence.

She’s the only kid enrolled in school for the sentencing assignment and that automatically puts a target on her, from the other kids, particularly because she also clearly doesn’t belong here. They can just *tell* that she didn’t earn the sentence she’s serving, and (as always in her life when she gets into a group setting), others resent her for being where she “doesn’t belong.” The rich kids did it in class. The less adept kids did it in the dorms. These kids did it during assignments. She was used to it. But, she was actually terrified of these kids. 

They were criminals! Especially, that one. 

He was tall and imposing. Not… dangerous looking, really. He didn’t ever smile, but that didn’t mean much in a place like this. What was there to smile about? She noticed him before anybody else, even though he was quiet and not rambunctious like some of the others were on the bus ride to the worksite. She noticed him first because of his hair. 

It was bright red, but she didn’t think it was dyed. She had seen red hair before, but not as bright and it definitely wasn’t common. She’d read that it was rare, and had only gotten more rare as time went on. She could think of maybe 3 redheads that she had seen in her life, and none of their hair had ever caught her attention that way. He was covered in freckles. Every visible part of his skin that could harbor freckles appeared to. She couldn’t remember if she knew anybody with freckles, but she liked them. She could stare at them and pretend to make little images by connecting some of them. Her brain imagined a series of patterns while she looked at his arms, slightly less vivid red hairs coated them. 

And on his face, he had severe acne. She was a little entranced by it. She found herself also mentally tracing patterns in the bumps, sometimes even incorporating freckles for accent. Up until the point where her brown eyes met his and his were not as dark, but way more mean. She smiled uncomfortably, and his expression didn’t change. She made prayer hands and awkwardly turned away. She could feel him glaring at her, though. She could feel it for the rest of the ride to the woods, and didn’t dare to glance his way when they unloaded. 

They wound up standing next to each other as the chaperone took roll call, and verified their identities and sentences. Shani only looked at him again whenever the chaperone read his sentencing as “aggravated robbery.” 

He didn’t even blink. He just said, “Allegedly.” Shani noted that although he wasn’t muscular or that solid, he was even taller than he seemed on the bus… maybe 6’1 - 6’3. He was nearly a foot taller than her, at 5’5, but not quite. Still, with his broad shoulders, his brooding expression, and the collar on his neck (the consecutive crimes collar); she felt very unnerved not just being next to him, but being on this site with him. Aggravated Robbery was SERIOUS. You couldn’t even purchase an education with that type of charge. Of course, Shani WOULD be thinking in terms of education. She didn’t even know this boy. His education wasn’t her business... 

Next, the chaperone read her name, and stated, “First time violent offense?” And she read it like it was unbelievable and all of the kids looked at Shani as the woman continued, “Judging from your record, I’m assuming that you’re here because of a misunderstanding?”

Shani felt her face grow warm with everyone staring, including Mr. Collar, but she explained, in a low voice, “All I did was try to shield myself. I’ve always read that if you never attempt a hit, you can plead self defense. There were multiple assailants, therefore, my defense was futile and the judge sided with my aggressors, that it was a fight instead of a gang attack.” She heard groans and snickers. She looked at the redhead. He shook his head in disbelief. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel very insignificant. She didn’t realize that the last thing that she should have done in that moment was tell everyone THAT. The chaperone gave her a sympathetic smile and moved on. Mr. Collar scoffed, laughed a little and turned away from her. She studied his profile. His eyes drifted over, checking to see if she was looking at him. Whenever he turned to face her again, she quickly looked away, her face hot from being on the verge of being caught staring again. 

Whenever she glanced back, he was still staring. He didn’t look as mean as on the bus. He seemed to be... studying her. She would have loved to know what he was thinking. Whatever it was, his brown eyes were softer than before, at least. She offered a smile and he didn’t return it, but at least he wasn’t glaring. He turned away very suddenly, like something had happened. She noticed that he looked like he was turning red. That was... interesting. Imagine somebody tall and dangerous blushing over one little smile. Her own face grew warm at the thought. He might be... whatever the records alleged... but he was a tall boy with features she liked, too.

[pinnithin-writes]

The Valley

The beginning of an original horror I submitted for grad school. 4503 words.

A thin howl stretched lean across the New Mexico dusk. The desert was sleepy, its hot sand settling into a gentle cool like the ticking shutoff of a pickup engine. Porch lights flicked on in time with the stars as the town of Lonely Valley drew inside for the night. This was the hour of dogs.

Lonely Valley was a small town, a generational town, circulating bloodlines and traditions and ghost stories like the pinwheel of stars overhead, and its residents knew not to travel the old dirt roads late at night. Stay inside, leave a light on, let the tumbleweeds pass by, and sweep the paw prints off the porch when the sun comes up.

Jude Garcia knew the whispers, the stories that passed from mouth to ear to mouth across grocery lines and over glasses of whiskey. He was born here, had grown up here, and would likely die here, with Guadalupe County clay permanently under his fingernails. It was later than comfortable to be out walking. The scent of sagebrush sighed in on the cool wind as he crunched down the road toward his house.

He was safe, probably. Safe for now. Even with the distant sound of dogs wailing from the desert beyond, he knew how to avoid them. He remembered his mother’s advice, and her mother’s advice, and so on. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t shine a light in the dark. Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry.

And, if all else failed, run to the inn.

Jude didn’t have much to worry about. At least, not much more than the average resident of Lonely Valley did—stuck in the middle of nowhere, living in a rut of habit so deep it was impossible to climb out of. Shitty cell signal. Shittier roads. He jammed his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, using the emerging moonlight to guide him as he trudged home.

No, he wasn’t worried, just frustrated. He’d already settled in for the night, kicking his feet up on the ottoman to watch Seinfeld reruns when he remembered he’d left his phone at his workstation. A couple beers in, he didn’t feel up to drive, and the thrift store was only a few blocks away, as everything was in Lonely Valley. So he walked, kicking up dry, dusty clay all over his jeans, goatheads embedding in the soles of his sneakers.

Darkness gathered quickly. He was almost home.

He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. Concerned, perhaps, since he’d gotten the news of his sister’s condition earlier that week, but she was going to be fine. She was folded into the practiced hands of the Santa Rosa hospital staff, and she had a real job with real money in a real town, so she could afford it. Her heart was stronger than his, even with a hole in its tissues.

It was easy not to worry in the daylight, when the eggwhite sun burned hot on their heads. When the nearest beast was the toothy, painted dog sign at the visitor’s center. It was much more difficult now, with the cool air lifting his collar and his worrying forbidden through bloodlines.

A shift of dry sand, a panted breath behind him, and suddenly Jude was no longer thinking about his wallet or his job or his sister. He froze mid-stride on the dirt road, hair on his neck prickling. In the absence of his footfalls, only the sigh of wind and the chirrup of night creatures could be heard, but his heart rate climbed all the same. Don’t worry, he told himself, don’t worry.

Still, nothing came, so he kept walking, alert now to his surroundings. Straining to catch a long black tail, a reflected pupil in the dark. He stopped and started and stopped again, hearing the quiet snick of claws on gravel, or maybe imagining he heard it. His hand found the iron cross in his pocket, and he gripped it tight.

They were following him now. How could they not be, with the emotional racket he had been making? Jude worked his stride up to a faster clip, shoving away the cold pit of dread in his stomach. Squares of yellow melted out into the streets from the houses he passed, banding him with light and agitating the animals that pursued him.

The dogs didn’t like the light, didn’t like to be seen, sticking like tar to the shadows as their breath condensed on his heels. Jude Garcia whispered a prayer under his breath, guessing too late his faith made them hungrier.

There. His house. Leaning wearily in the darkness up ahead. A rush of air left him, and he fished in his jeans for his keys. A fumbled jingle rang out in the night, stopped short by the pair of eyes that met him on the front porch steps.

The black dogs of Lonely Valley weren’t necessarily dogs but something like them, with long legs and long ears and long red tongues hanging from their pointed jaws. They kept to the shadows so their limbs could not be counted, and one could never quite be sure of how many eyes they had, twin rings blinking white and watchful from the dark.

Snarls and snaps came from the surrounding night, and he realized he was encircled by a whole pack of them.

He ran.

---

Ramona used to tell people she knew the desert better than she knew her own mind. Growing up, this had always been the case—she’d spent hours in the sagebrush and sand, learning the names of the wildlife, the sound of the wind, and the smell of an infrequent storm rolling in from the west. She knew every rock in Guadalupe County and every creature that lived underneath them, and she did not know herself.

At eighteen, she’d since stopped saying this, as it was no longer an impressive boast but a sad fact.

This was because she was a Lopez, and every Lopez knew Lonely Valley intimately but were strangers to themselves. This was so with her two brothers, father, and her mother, she assumed, though she never knew her. The four of them lived and worked at the Black Dog Inn, hub of Lonely Valley—or, at least, that was what the sign said. The red and blue neon still worked even after seventy years, flickering and humming out hope in the canine darkness.

On most mornings, Ramona would sweep up the dust in the front lobby and knock the spiderwebs from the corners of the rooms, but today was unusual because they had a guest. This was heralded by a pounding on their door around ten o’clock last night, when the moon was thin and the night was close and purple, and Jude Garcia had come tumbling in their front door. Ramona and Luca, her younger brother, had been working the front desk—if chucking a stress ball back and forth over the counter qualified as working—when it happened.

It wasn’t the first or last time the desert dogs had hunted someone all the way to the inn. Their family had a reputation for protecting the townspeople and the secrets they ran from. Luca handled the guest—the patient, really—and Ramona handled the dogs. This was how they always did it, because Ramona was bad with people and Luca was bad with dogs, not necessarily because either of them preferred their respective duties.

She’d swung open the screen door and rang the old iron bell the animals hated so much until they melted back into the darkness. They’d be back, but not for a while. When morning broke, safe and silent, Ramona made herself scarce while her father checked on the guest. Most often when they had visitors, they’d stay a night, recover in the morning, and return home safely that day, trusting the Lopez family to keep their secrets as they always did. Sometimes, when the dogs were especially hungry, the person they fed on would have to stay for weeks or months, remembering who they were, but that hadn’t happened since Ramona was twelve.

Sometimes, they never remembered who they were and wandered into the desert to never return. But that hadn’t happened in Ramona’s lifetime.

The town of Lonely Valley was nine square miles of nothing, cupped by shallow mesas furred up and down with juniper and pinyon pine. A train track cut through the landscape like a spinal column, whistling in the night in a mournful way that haunted visitors and comforted residents. Ramona and her brothers used to stack pennies on the rails and wait for the locomotives to come chugging through, fishing the flattened copper out of the wells between the tracks after they’d passed. Luca liked to claim these were luckier than regular pennies, while Ramona argued that luck didn’t exist and it was all science. When pressed, Dominic would say luck was something you made yourself, revealing a mysterious smile before pocketing his coin.

Dominic didn’t go down by the train tracks much anymore. He was busy trying to make his own luck by applying to jobs in places far away from the valley. His smile was reserved only for interviews, and it was no longer mysterious.

Places like the railroad were where Ramona tended to hang out in the summer, because adults didn’t feel much like picking their way through the briars and camelthorn just for a couple of parallel lines and occasional passing freight. Adults needed more reward for their efforts, like a fantastic view after a mindless, exhausting hike, or a business deal after a mindless, exhausting meeting. It wasn’t enough to just dwell amongst the larkspur in your sunhat and listen to the approaching chuggachuggachugga while a jay screamed. It wasn’t enough to just sit and be.

Ramona liked the railroad, and she liked the dump site on the outskirts of town with its overturned, out-of-tune baby grand, and she liked the Dollar General parking lot and its sun-buckled blacktop. She liked haunting odd, undesirable places, because no place was really undesirable once she got to know it. Ramona spent a lot of time getting to know places nobody wanted anything to do with, and often she found herself falling in love with them.

She was down by the tracks right now, in the shade of a pathetic, scraggly spruce, throwing pieces of gravel at the steel beams from a few yards away to make a ting sound. It was a few hours past noon, and her cuffed jeans were dusted with clay after digging around in the rail wells, nearly washing them the same color as her red-brown hotel T-shirt. It was originally a bright, cheerful scarlet, but the sand and sun had bleached it out to a fine dirt color, as it did with most things here.

Inez Ferro’s arrival was announced only by her shadow falling across Ramona’s line of sight. Ramona threw another rock, missed, and frowned. She watched the shadow curl against itself as Inez bent to pick up a pebble of her own. A flick of a wrist in her periphery, and it went sailing past Ramona to ping solidly against the rail.

Some people, when they said they were born in Lonely Valley, really meant they were born at the hospital in Santa Rosa forty miles away. When Inez Ferro said she was born in Lonely Valley, she meant the bathtub in her parents’ double wide, because her mother didn’t believe in hospitals or medicine or anything else that wasn’t mentioned in the fat leatherbound Bible she kept on her nightstand. Inez had come screaming into existence seventeen years ago and hadn’t stopped screaming since, meeting the world with knives in her boots and sharpened knuckles. Her mother called Inez her prickly pear. Her father called Inez dead weight.

Inez didn’t much care what others called her, so long as they kept out of her business. What Inez did with her spare time only made sense to Inez, and the people who got along with her best were those who had given up trying to understand her. Once, Inez told Ramona she was her worst friend by far. Ramona wore the sentiment like a badge of honor.

Inez’s voice was low and rough as the wind in scrubgrass when she asked, “They got another one?”

Ramona let the rest of the rocks in her hand fall to the dust at her feet and turned to look at her. Inez was staring at Ramona with a dark, piercing stare that always looked accusatory, even when it wasn’t. The bones of her shoulders stood out where she cut the sleeves off her black graphic tee. Pointy thumbs hooked in her belt loops. Inez was always taking a knife to her appearance, hacking away her hair and slicing through her jeans. Ramona tried not to worry about what else Inez’s blades touched.

“Mister Garcia,” Ramona affirmed.

“That guy who works at the thrift shop?”

“Yeah.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “He’ll be fine,” even though she knew Inez didn’t really care.

“You’re feeding them tonight,” Inez said, sharply. Everything about her was sharp—elbows, fingers, smile. It wasn’t a question.

Ramona gnawed on her lip as hot wind blew in her face. “You can come,” she answered.

Inez was very good at appearing disinterested when she was in truth very interested, but because Ramona had spent years digging into her mind, she knew what the glint in her eye meant. To her credit, she managed to pull off a lackadaisical shrug that almost looked casual. “Sure. Didn’t have any plans otherwise. I mean,” she paused, smirking, “unless you count being a general delinquent.”

Ramona snorted, recalling her older brother’s choice words for them. In all reality they should have been spending their evening being general delinquents. This was their last summer here in the sun-baked valley of their hometown before their final year of high school, and after that they were expected to apply for colleges or join the military and move away. Each graduating class got a little bit closer to escaping, but a few always remained, either for familiarity or bad luck’s sake. Ramona knew she’d probably be one to stay behind and was almost certain Inez would skip town as soon as she turned eighteen.

She wanted to make the most of their last summer together, kicking around in the dry riverbed and making fun of Elliot for his accent and getting chased away from the gas station by Miss Barela and her broom. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she looked away, her throat suddenly tight.

“I’ve still got to pick some stuff up,” she said once she’d dragged her facial expression back to something manageable. She rattled the bag over her shoulder, jostling the railroad spike and the copper coins inside.

“I’ll help,” Inez intoned.

“Sure.”

It wasn’t fair; Ramona was never allowed to offer her own assistance to Inez, whose mouth would cut until Ramona backed off. But she wasn’t about to open old wounds now.

Loaded down with supplies, Ramona and Inez’s hike back to the inn concluded with soft guitar music on the porch. The setting sun bathed the adobe walls and a pair of dusty boots kicked up on the railing a warm red. Ramona recognized the voice crooning from her porch swing immediately. It blended sweetly with the soft plucked chords.

Was a cowboy I knew in south Texas

His face was burnt deep by the sun

Part history, part sage, part mesquit

He was there when Poncho Villa was young

And he'd tell you a tale of the old days

When the country was wild all around

Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way

And listen while the coyotes howl

At this, the singer’s curly head tipped back and he let out a loud “awoo!”

The distant song that answered him was too long and lonely to be a coyote, and it made the hair on the back of Ramona’s neck rise.

The best place to hide secrets was in plain sight, and this held true for the desert dogs of Lonely Valley as much as any other secret. A hundred miles north of Ruidoso, the town didn't get much traffic beyond the pronghorn herd that clouded in and around Guadalupe County, so it sold itself on ghost stories to turn a profit. Many residents who didn’t work in the city peddled whispers and worries alongside T-shirts and trinkets to any travelers passing through. The long black dogs that fed on feelings were a curiosity of the town, a charming oddity that drew road trippers off the highway for a tamale and a picture in front of the town sign.

Local shops had paw print keychains at the register next to the little trays of geodes, and the cashier would smile and wink when their total came out to $6.66. Ramona was particularly fond of the gas station tees that read “Don’t Eat Your Feelings” printed over a dog silhouette. Visitors were warned not to stay out past dark in Lonely Valley, and they usually didn’t, because there was nothing fun to do in Lonely Valley past dark, anyway.

This left a small, curious minority of ghost hunters, vloggers, and conspiracy theorists who hungered for the supernatural. The Lopez family buffered these visitors as best as they could, though often their curiosity was sabotaged by local teens making noises in the dark, freezing their blood to ice with a bucket, a stick, and some creative mimicry. Most of the morbidly nosey cleared out after a night in the Russian olives with only the moon for company.

That is, save one person, who prickled Ramona like a burr stuck to her sock. Elliot James.

He was a Lonely Valley resident only by technicality, living with his aunt in the summer while his musician parents went on tour. He flew back to Austin every fall when school started up, to clean the dirt out from under his nails and forget about the desert for nine months, and for this crime Ramona habitually disliked him.

Inez, however, enjoyed his company because he was loud and weird and lovely and her parents hated him. She let him in on the secret of the desert dogs when they were fifteen, and Ramona had eventually forgiven this discrepancy after several months of seething. She didn’t care if Elliot tagged along anymore—he had proven his value to the creatures of the night with the lovesick collection of B-sides he could strum on his acoustic.

The dogs loved him. Sometimes, perhaps, more than they loved Ramona, which was another obstacle of dislike she was working on clearing. It didn’t help he held an uncanny ability to show up all over Lonely Valley unannounced and uninvited.

“Lovely night for a hike!” Elliot said in lieu of greeting, silencing the still humming strings of his guitar with a flattened palm.

He smiled sunnily as Ramona ascended the porch steps with Inez trailing behind her. Elliot James was handsome in the way a well-made armoire was, warm and loved and handcrafted. He was the only outsider who was welcome in Lonely Valley because he disarmed and charmed in equal measure with his lovesick songs and his starfield of freckles. Elliot dropped his boots to the deck with two solid thunks as he stood, angling the neck of his guitar aside to bump knuckles with Inez as she joined them on the porch.

Ramona crossed her arms, determinedly resistant to his charm. “I guess you’re coming too, huh?”

Elliot’s smile was unwavering. “Oh, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Lonely Valley’s favorite tourist rounded out the trio of teens who kept the desert dogs fed. Ramona still wasn’t sure why her father had so willingly accepted both Inez and Elliot into the fold when he himself had never been permitted to bring along friends growing up. But perhaps that missed childhood opportunity was the reason.

Inez leaned against the railing, studying Elliot. “You sure? Last time you cried.”

Elliot pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, feigning insult. “And? It was helpful, wasn’t it?”

Ramona shifted the bag she carried to her other shoulder. “I’ve just gotta grab some stuff inside, and we can go,” she said. Her eyes fell to the acoustic Elliot carried. “I hope you're bringing the guitar.”

Elliot patted the polished wood good-naturedly. “Her name,” he corrected without venom, “is Winona. Of course I’m bringing her.”

Swinging through the screen door, Ramona left her friends to wait on the front porch. She tried not to think about how similar her name sounded to ‘Winona’ in his voice.

---

The sagebrush snagged at their ankles as they climbed. Ramona’s rucksack banged against her back, and dust caked beneath her fingernails. This last scramble was short but strenuous, pulling at the tendons in their calves, grabbing at their shoulders, beckoning the climbers back to the safety of the valley. The dog-sounds that cradled the hikers sent tremors through their ranks.

Mesa Luna was a sacred place, if only to the shivering pines that crested it and the children traipsing to its summit. It was built upon rumors and rattlesnakes, and its sharp, thin line on the horizon was the sun’s eternal hurdle to jump. It was a giant at night, blue and looming. Standing atop its siltstone table, Ramona always felt cosmic—detached in a way—like Lonely Valley and Mesa Luna and Ruidoso and Guadalupe County were all just meaningless labels for a cupped handful of miracles. Here, the land didn’t have names; the night creatures sang, and Ramona Lopez was one of them.

Generation to generation, each member of the Lopez family found their own way to feed the hounds. Emilio used to drive his battered white truck out to Holy Point and play a fiddle on a schedule kept like clockwork. His mother Gianna before that sank to her knees in Wolf Creek, shivering out prayers until the surrounding dogs were satisfied. Her mother preceding her sat on the back porch of their very inn, reading stories out loud to the quiet, panting night, a gentle flirtation with nightmares.

Ramona climbed to the top of Mesa Luna and frightened herself.

In the most recent years, she had helpers, but prior to that she would scale the tallest Ponderosa that hugged the cliff face and lean out over the rocky riverbed below. With nothing between her and the ground but the cool, empty air, Ramona would cling to her nerve and the tree bark while her heart threw itself against her ribcage. And the dogs would gather below her, hungry and expectant, until it was time to disperse.

These days, it was different. These days, it was a little easier on her heart. Ramona had been hesitant to allow Inez, and later Elliot, to join her out under the swathe of stars, but now it was a comfort. This was no longer a lonely ritual built to scare her soul. This was a commune with the gods, and Ramona did not know or care whether those gods were the creatures of the night or the three teenagers who ventured into it.

The three sat together in the dust around an empty fire pit that had lain cold since the annual burn bans rolled in. Ramona carried a walking stick with an iron nail driven through the bottom, wood grain worn under generations of fingers. A lacework of satin ribbon tied in knots of threes sat against Inez’s collarbones. Elliot kept sprigs of rosemary and dried chili peppers in his pockets.

They could sense the dogs nearby in an eruption of goosebumps on their arms, the hair rising on their necks. Ramona meticulously unpacked her rucksack and withdrew what she needed. Copper pennies, tossed in a circle around them. A dogeared book of Anne Carson poems. The industrial flashlight her father kept in his pickup. And the old iron bell, just in case, the clapper wrapped in cloth to keep it silent.

The dogs could draw near, but they could not make contact. There was debate among Lonely Valley residents if the talismans and the pennies and the prayers said in triplicate did any good. A trick of the light, of the mind, a placebo to keep the thoughts from wandering. The Lopez family straddled the line between arguments. If it worked, did it matter if it was real or not?

Ramona angled her chin to Elliot, speaking in a low voice. “You wanna start this time?” Behind his shoulder, she could see a pair of round white eyes watching from the surrounding ink. The animals were hungry.

Elliot’s smile was not as sunny as it had been on the porch of the Black Dog Inn, but he made a valiant attempt as he fingered a chord on his guitar and strummed.

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger

Traveling through this world below

There is no sickness, toil, or danger

In that bright land to which I go

I'm going there to see my Father

And all my loved ones who've gone on

I'm only going over Jordan

I'm only going over home

And so it went. Each took their turn leaving offerings, feeding off one another’s emotions with as much voracity as the dogs fed on them. They crooned and cried and sang and the dog’s voices joined them. Ramona recited passages from the book that made her heart ache. Inez chilled them to the bone with a ghost story and a Zippo under her chin, making the dogs flicker on the edges of their vision.

The animals circled and drank up their feelings, genuine heart song rising on the mists of their breath into the air. When it came time for them to disperse, the moon was a cold, bright point overhead. Sated, melting ink stains, the dogs were there and then were not, their absence noted by the warming of the night. The tension ebbed from the trio’s shoulders.

Quiet lay the valley. The town was at rest once more. Ramona never felt more alive than she did during these times; this was in her blood and her nerves and every particle of her heart, and though she did not know herself, she knew where she belonged.

[ilovemyschool]

Teaching through COVID???

Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.

I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry.  I absolutely love teaching and I love my students.  I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff.  Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you.  I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students.  I also try to support them through the hard stuff.  I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat.  I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.”  It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids.  If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical.  When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too.  When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.  

I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year.  My students are set to come back in two weeks.  There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out.  To quit or not to quit.  That is my question.

To Quit:

*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”  

*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor.  I have an autoimmune condition.  It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.

*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option.  The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours.  Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class.  If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two.  It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.

*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us?  I guess they’ll figure that out?

*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days.  If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank.  They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.  

*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask.  That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”

*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually).  Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online.  There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.

*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes.  That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there.  It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.

*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above.  If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.

*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures.  My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.”  This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others.  They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway.  I’m not so sure I agree with that.  I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented.  I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that?  Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”

*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines.  The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges.  Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education.  I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.

*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school.  We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week.  To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane.  My anxiety is in full gear.

*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.  

Not to Quit:

*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year.  I don’t want to miss it.

*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year.  I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program.  We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.

*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids.  I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.

*I LOVE my classroom and my lab.  I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out.  I decorated it really nice and made it super functional.  I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again.  All my desks match, too!

*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.  I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house.  If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year.  There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either.  With budget cuts, who knows?

*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job.  Those are rare and hard to come by.

*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask.  That’s helpful.  All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.

*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.

*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed.  If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.

*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised.  I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.  

*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife.  I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me.  I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on.  I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED.  I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.  

In conclusion...

I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.”  Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily.  This scares me.  I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year.  There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school.  I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken.  I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over.  I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.

Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer.  I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings.  We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity.  I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them.  Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking.  I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school.  Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.

If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year.  We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.

[blackgirlnotes]

Faux Activism and Exclusionary Practices.

Before I even begin this week's text post, I have to make it abundantly clear: All Black Lives must matter to you if you are going to be an "activist" or a social justice warrior. That said, let's have a conversation about what and why this new wave of activism in the black community is not inclusive nor real.

1. OUTRAGE

The outrage over the unnecessary killings and highly preventable deaths of black men and women is one hundred percent real and warranted. However, as I have noticed in my personal social media timelines, many people are unknowingly (or purposefully) excluding the names of trans people and non-binary people. This is abhorrent and frankly disgusting. Black people exist in every facet of life: from being a cis-woman who has a loving husband to being a trans man who lives with his life gay, cis-partner. Every version of the black experience is valid and worthy of protection and acceptance. Women and LGBTQIA+ folx have a hard time already existing in a straight, white, male dominated world. Imagine tacking on the fact that they are black. Now they experience two to three different forms of discrimination for things they didn't decide nor have the ability to change. If you are outraged at the injustices inflicted upon our people for generations, then you MUST also include your gender non-conforming friends and their experiences as well. Do not practice and exclusionary version of "Black Lives Matter." At that point, you are a hypocrite and liar because you, yourself do not see the value in the non-traditional (for lack of a better term) black life.

2. SILENCE

For the first week of protests and surge of political dismantling, we saw the names of nearly every black man who had died as a result of unjust policing and a corrupt government. Rarely did we see popular activists or celebrities mention the names of Breonna Taylor, Sandra Bland, or Atatiana Jefferson. Rarely did we see the same outpour of grief and support for the women also impacted by the world we live in. Never, in that first week, did I see a video or post about how to help locate the thousands of lost black girls snatched from inner cities. Last time I checked, the human mind is capable of focusing on more than one tragedy at a time. To not share the same loudness when it comes to the plight of the black woman is to be silent. As we have learned over the last few weeks: silence is deafening. It doesn't surprise me that our people don't make nearly as much noise behind the oppression and destruction of the black woman. This is the same community that had a generation raises young girls to "dress appropriately when there are men in the house," you know...the house the men are VISITING and you are STAYING in. The same group of people who deem black women ghetto for having multiple partners and children from said partners but praises men because "it must be so hard taking care of all those kids...as a man." The same delegation of humans who will bash a darkskin woman in order to praise a lightskin or non-black woman. Let me digress. The treatment of black women is so ingrained in to our psyche that we, as women, catch ourselves subconsciously giving in to these misogynistic practices. When my step mother tells me I should cover up because I live in a house with men, when my job tells me the uncomfortable advances from male customers is normal and I should just ignore it, or when the first lady of my church deems my knee length skirt too short simply because the old, perverted men in the sanctuary can't stop staring. It is done from a place of "protection" in their eyes but it stems from something deeper. To destroy the black woman is to destroy the black man, essentially. Every black man comes from a black woman. Before you try arguing in terms of "mixed kids with white mothers," learn basic genetics: the mixed boy with a black dad and white mom has a black grandma. His father's mother, and her mother and so forth, are all black. Do not be silent when Black women are oppressed, slain and abused. Be as loud as you are when George and Trayvon were taken from us. Be as loud as you are when your sport's team loses. Do not allow the black woman's life to be lost without at least trying to protect it.

3. PETITIONS AND DONATIONS

Yes, signing your name on petitions and opening your purse to the many sites created to help protesters is a great way to help make change but it isn't the only way nor is it the most effective. Stop bashing people who do not see the value in signing an online petition amd start suggesting other ways to be active in this fight. Organize something in your neighborhood, attend a protest, help localize the situations going on if none of the tragedies apply to your town. Educate yourself and a friend. There are many other ways to protest and be active in the community other than donating money you may not have or signing a petition because twitter user funyunslover48 told you to. This is a direct message to those demonizing others for not signing petitions online or donating online. Its not the end of the world if the petition with 400,000 signatures doesn't get signed by Sandy because Sandy has signed ten other ones today and doesn't feel like she has to sign another. I will say, as a counter, if you haven't signed at least one petition or donated anywhere of you could, then you are definitely not helping and you need to find some links and sign some ink. Period.

4. ORGANIZING

My only statement for this is to look at living, civil rights activist. Revisit history a bit and do what you can to try and rally our people together as a whole. We need, as a collective, to have leaders in the community who are bringing us together from all sides. Paris, London, Tokyo, and parts of New Zealand have all had BLM protests in accordance with the ones happening in every state in America. We must unite ourselves somehow so that the true message of what we're fighting for, globally, is not lost nor is it misconstrued. This is my only suggestion for this section.

In all, the practices that have been going on for the last two weeks have been positive and good mostly. However, there is always room for improvement and there needs to be room for those who we have been constantly ostracizing. Now is the time for black people of all sexualities, genders, ages, and backgrounds to come together and fight for ourselves. We cannot say that our lives matter if we exclude our women and LGBTQIA+ family. We are united by our shared experiences and culture, please do not let who someone shares a bed with at night deter you from that fact.

Here is a list of black-led LGBT organizations that you can glean information from or donate to (list curated by Eugene Lee Yang of the Try Guys):

TGI Justice Project

The Okra Project

Anti-Violence Project

SNaPCO

Black Trans Travel Fund

The Transgender District

Black Aids Institute

Marsha P. Johnson Institute

Brave Space Alliance

Voix Noire

- nellmaria

(please excues any typos. this has yet to be edited.)

[maisstories]

I Need Your Help

To be more precise, my girlfriend needs your help. The reason I am the one writing this text is because right now she is so depressed and discouraged that she doesn’t have the strength to believe asking for help would make a difference, and that… that terrifies me.

For those who don’t know us, I am Mai, and my girlfriend is Kari. Under different circumstances, we should have our lives all nicely sorted out, but as we are all aware, we live in the kind of dystopian world society at large likes to pretend only happens in fiction. Especially Kari. You see, I’m from Spain, and Kari is from the US. This means an entire ocean separates us (otherwise I would’ve bundled her up and brought her home, believe me).

Kari is a poor wlw who lives in a very conservative area (as in, Bible Belt conservative). She has ADHD, which went untreated most of her life, hampering her at every turn. First, because she grew up in a very conservative Catholic family and most Catholic families just Don’t Believe in Those Things. Now… well, now because she has no medical insurance and can’t afford to pay for medication. Cute, isn’t it? And that’s not even the best part. Kari has depression, that I mentioned, but this whole situation, and the hopelessness it causes her, has brought forth suicidal ideation. I don’t have the words to express just how scared I am by this. It paralyzes me. There is nothing, physically nothing I can do if they ever get the better of her.

To add to this, it has been made abundantly clear to Kari that her parents won’t help her if she becomes homeless. They didn’t want a child to begin with. A gay child? Yeah, no, forget about it.

(On a bit of a bright note, Kari has two adopted cats, which are the cutest fur balls over. They’re her closest emotional support most days, and I am very grateful for them. I can’t cuddle her or be physically there for her at all, but I can at least ask her to go cuddle them. They’re not even on the particularly scratchy side for cats).

Currently, Kari has a job, but despite taking on as many extra hours as possible, she cannot make enough money for rent. In fact, she cannot make many other basic necessities, which I will list here because they’re important, I am worried sick, and we really do need help:

-Work: Kari lost her previous job for one of those completely absurd, US-only reasons back in late October. I say absurd because any company trying to pull that shit here in Spain, and most likely anywhere in the European Union, would’ve been fined out of business. But hey, Country of Freedom and all that, isn’t it? She finally found a new job mid-November. Lower pay, though, which means it doesn’t help her cover full rent.

-Rent: As many people in the US will know, and others not from the US will have heard, rent outside of isolated areas is ridiculously expensive, especially for such a large and unpopulated country. The Wonders of Capitalism. As such, Kari is forced to pay a truly monstrous amount of money for a minuscule space to live in, one that ate up most of her previous salary and that surpasses her current one.

-Bills: Let’s not forget these. She rations. As much as she can. Electricity, water, internet… she goes for cheapest and least use, so far as to monitor her use of water during showers, but this still adds to her expenses.

-Food: Now’s where things get to a truly awful degree. When she moved to the place she lives in now (and if anyone wants the story that led to this move, please ask, because that’s an entirely other level of fucked up), she had to apply for food stamps, because she had barely no money left to feed herself and her two adopted cats after all the mandatory expenses. Food stamps people don’t look at the money you have left after bills, they just look at your income, so she was allotted $16. Useful, right? Anyway, fast forward to late October: Kari loses her job, so, obviously, one of the first things she does is contact the food stamps people to update her situation and have her allotment reevaluated. No response. Contact again. No response. This keeps going on. Mid-November, she gets a new job (still no response from the food stamps people despite the many attempts to contact them). Last Friday, her food supplies consisted of a bit of chicken, two fish fillets, and a couple eggs. I do not kid you. Today, the food stamp people finally answered her call: they won’t look into her case until, at least, December.

That’s it for the basics. As you see, it’s a wonderful situation.

Now, my role in this, as I’m sure some of you are wondering.

Let me start by saying this: I am a heavily disabled woman (nearly blind) living in an isolated area with the worst public transport system this side of the Mediterranean Sea. I am incapable of even getting out of home without assistance and someone to drive me at the moment. This means, having a job where I currently live is out of the question (I’m working on getting a job somewhere else where I’ll be able to live on my own. Sort of). My only source of income right now is my Patreon account, the earnings of which go fully to Kari because my girlfriend’s wellbeing matters to me much more than anything I could ever need for myself. I may say whatever I want about my parents’ belief that my relationship isn’t real because they don’t believe you can forge real connections through the internet (or the fact they want me to have a BOYfriend because they want grandchildren), but at least they’re so terrified I’ll break the moment I step outside on my own that they take good care of me.

Still, unfortunately, I’m only a writer, and a writer’s Patreon doesn’t make enough money to cover for such serious issues.

But Kari is the most important person in my life. I’m not exaggerating. I never thought I’d fall in love. I’ve always been the weird one out, the blind kid teachers coddled too much out of pity so other kids disliked and picked on, the one who was so odd that didn’t even fit with the weird kids in school. That happened everywhere, anywhere I went. Even in some fandom groups. It came to the point I stopped trying. It came to the point I thought once my parents died I wouldn’t have anyone. I’d stopped making plans for the future. There was no future for me.

And then I met Kari. She can make me smile with a silly gif and an obscure quote I thought no one else knew at 3am when I’m on the verge of tears because I feel trapped in my own house; she can get me excited about doing a joint cosplay in the distant future when I’d given up on cosplay years ago because I had no one who wanted to go to cons with me; she listens to my stupid history rants and even shows interest in them, when the most I’m used to getting are eye rolls and a change of topic.

Kari is the best that’s happened to me. Ever. And I want her to be happy. I want her to not have to worry about rent; I want her to be able to buy herself a chocolate bar because she feels like it without having to feel guilty for wasting the money. I want her to be able to live without the fear of being evicted every month, without having to worry about tomorrow’s meals because she ran out of food stamps and the fridge has only a can of soup left for the weekend. I want her to be able to go to the doctor when she’s sick and buy the medication she needs to get better.

But I don’t have the power to do this. Not now, not yet. So I’m asking you, everyone out there, to please help us. Help her.

And, I’m afraid, November is an awful month for Kari. Due to the late date at which she found her new job, she is missing a large chunk of rent. I’m doing everything in my power to gather money, and I ask —no, beg— you to help. Donate something, anything. Even if it is small, many small donations can make a difference.

Originally, we wanted to do a GoFundMe page with a three-month goal of 975 dollars to cover that period’s expenses (yes, guys, we’re missing about 500 this month. It’s that horrible), but every single crowdfunding website we have found works through bank accounts. Banks in the US are sharks; they tax you for not having enough income, for not having enough activity… Basically, if you’re poor in the US, you have to pay to have a bank account that will never have any money in it because the bank will eat it up. So, until we find an alternate crowdfunding site that allows to collect through paypal, we have set us several other safe forms through which you guys can donate to help Kari.

Paypal.Me: https://paypal.me/findyourwaycrafts

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/findyourway

Kari has a crafts store, because she is a fantastic artist (and you should totally check it out), with much stuff already on it and other stuff planned to come:

Store: https://findyourway.storenvy.com/

Store Tumblr: https://findyourwaycrafts.tumblr.com/

However, these things take time to take off, and we are running out of time in November. So please, please, help us cover the remainder of Kari’s rent for this month. Even if it’s just a dollar, three, five, a purchase of a necklace. Anything. Please, help us. Help Kari keep a roof over her head this Winter.

[hhemeraa-a]

Update / Haitus

I’ve been a ghost the last two weeks and I know that my last post was very succinct - which I had to delete because apparently porn blogs started reblogging it for some reason????????? And I’m just?? not in the place to deal with that.

I really hope to get back into a place where I can be here again, I know before I said I was on discord but I’ve had zero (zero) time to do literally anything else other than deal with my current situation so I’m barely even there. I do read all of your messages and I’m really sorry I haven’t responded. 

A lot of people had or have questions and wanted to know how I am, etc etc so under the cut will be a quick explanation of my absence and everything that’s happened within the last few weeks.

As some of you know, I am a Peace Corps volunteer servicing in China. I had been serving as a university English teacher for the last near 2 years. This was a very very very important and huge opportunity for me. 

Years ago when I was in college, my Mom was taking student loans out in my name while I was living with her. I went from having $54k in student debt (which is a lot already) to having about $108k in student debt in private loans. She shirked all responsibility on me, I had to graduate college early with a degree in something that I had credits in (International Studies with a focus on Chinese language and history), I was homeless for a while working random jobs, trying to join the Marine Officer program, etc etc -- needless to say, things were really really messy for a few years there. I ended up getting a really nice job for a logistics company getting paid about 2200 a month, but I was paying about 1600 a month in student loans. I had a lot of support from a friend who let me live with her and to this day I literally cannot thank her enough for everything she provided to me while I was suffering through all of this. 

After working that soul sucking job for nearly 4 years, I took a chance and applied for Peace Corps because it was an opportunity to finally make it to China. I was supposed to study abroad in college, but when my mother maxed out my debt, it was no longer feasible. I never thought I was going to get in because I had been out of school for years at that point, I had never taught English before besides 1-on-1s during college and I kind of thought I was too old???  

BUT LOW AND BEHOLD I GOT IN.  This shit meant everything to me. I was finally going to study abroad, I was finally going to have a chance to use my degree, I was finally going to have the chance to learn a language, I had an opportunity to have a complete career change. 

It was so incredibly hard though. I worked my ass off during training, I worked really really hard to integrate into my site, but if anyone has ever heard any of my horror stories of being the only foreigner in the middle of south east China, you’ll understand that it’s not always fun 😅 I even had a whole mental break down and had to be sent back to the States for 45 days so I could stop stressing, but I got my ass right back on that plane and came to finish the job I started. The low were low, but the highs were so incredibly high that it made up for every bad moment.

This program meant everything to me.  My first semester sucked ass, it was harder than I ever thought it would be. My second semester was so much better, my third semester I was over loaded with about 450+ students and 8 classes, but I was finally getting the hang of the language, the school, the people, and I had gotten the ‘ok’ from my school to work there as a full time teacher once my Peace Corps contract was finished. This?? Was such an opportunity?? I literally had started making the moves to start a life here -- at least temporarily. Work at my school as contracted teacher for a year, pass the HSK Chinese language test above a 4, use the money to find a better job in Taiwan -- there was a whole plan. 

Every year, Peace Corps meets for 1-2 weeks for In Service Training. We met from Jan. 12 - 17. Usually it’s just to reconnect and make sure all the volunteers are doing their jobs, medical check ups, etc etc etc. It’s a good time to see how other volunteers are doing. 

Jan. 17th we were formally told that the Peace Corps China program was being closed. After 2020, there would no longer be any new volunteers and that we needed to start preparing our schools for the transition. They called it a graduation, but we all knew it was a political move. For five hours, a room of 200 people ripped into the US PC HQ staff as to why they were “”graduating”” the program. They said it was because the budget didn’t call for it and that China no longer needed volunteers in their schools. Which is a lie. Tensions were already really really high, the answers kept gettin more vague, and we finally flat out asked if this was a political decision to remove Peace Corps from China. 

We didn’t get an answer. 

Needless to say, all the volunteers are livid. The information spread like wild fire to all of the schools and volunteers were faced with having to be the representative of a shitty political decision. It was extremely difficult to have to face students and try to explain that Americans don’t hate them when the political system there does. 

Chinese New Year was from Jan 25th - Jan 27th this year. I lived in Chongqing city in the Chongqing province/municipality, a city that has about 32 million people in it. During this time, the city becomes a ghost town due to the holiday being similar to Christmas/Thanksgiving where everyone goes back to their hometowns to be with family. All the shops close and for foreigners it can be difficult to find food because everything isn’t open lol. 

However on Jan. 25th was when news about the corona virus started getting around. It wasn’t very big, but the news was starting to spread. The Hubei province touches Chongqing province, so whispers were starting to come through and most information volunteers got were through foreign sources, but even my Chinese friends were telling me that I shouldn’t go out or if I do, I need to be sure to wear a mask. 

Sunday Jan. 26th, notices are starting to go up on store fronts saying that they are required by law to be closed, but I managed to find a place that was still open. News about the virus is starting to gain traction and more and more information about what is happening in Wuhan is starting to spread. My friend who is staying with me who lives in a small town near the border of Hubei (where Wuhan is placed) gets a call from his school telling him that it is safer for him to not come back to site. We are starting to hear that small towns are shutting down travel in and out, bus systems are starting to shut down and certain areas in the city are no longer allowing taxi or Didi (Chinese Uber)  services. 

Monday Jan. 27th, my friend leaves because all train and bus tickets out of the city were being canceled. My city was slowly starting to quarantine everyone. I live on campus, and when I tried to return after walking my friend to the metro, security took my temperature (with those neat little temp guns) and then wouldn’t let me in because they thought I was too warm. After arguing with them in my broken Chinese and convinced them that I lived there, they finally let me back on campus. They told me that no cars or people are allowed to go in and out anymore. 

I lived near city center and it was obvious that the government was slowly locking everyone away to try and prevent the spread, but it was so eerie and apocalyptic. We had been receiving emails from the PCChina director giving us daily updates that were inching towards the idea that all volunteers were going to be ‘consolidated’, so everyone just needed to be prepared. 

Tuesday Jan. 28th, the notice went out that the volunteers were being ‘consolidated’ to Thailand because China made it illegal for any group of 4 or more people to be together. We were only allowed 1 check in bag and we weren’t sure if we were ever going to be allowed to come back into country. People who were not at their sites were not allowed to go back to their sites. Wherever a volunteer was in that moment that we got the notice was required to get their ticket to Bangkok and leave immediately. I had to pack 2 years of my life up into a single suitcase not knowing if I was ever going to come back. 

Wednesday Jan 29th, I was on a plane and landed in Bangkok. I am a safety warden of my province and the first warden to arrive so I was in charge of all safety until staff arrived. 

But after that, things were very much in the air. We had no idea what was going to happen and every day things just got weirder and more serious and we didn’t know if at all we were going to be able to go back. We speculated a lot, as the news got worse and worse and worse. By Friday, all USA government employees were told to evacuate. No gov employee is allowed to enter China until the travel restrictions were let up, which meant that many PCChina staff - if they were to leave, would be allowed back in until China decided that it was safe enough or... if they wanted them back. 

Sunday, Feb. 2nd, all the volunteers who were at the hotel had a skype meeting with the head of the PCChina program and were told that due to the severity of the situation, all currently serving China volunteers would be forced to COS (Close of Service) by Thursday. The program was ending and we would all be sent back to our respective homes between Wednesday and Thursday. 

When I say it was the shittiest delivery of news imaginable, I cannot even put it into words. After we were all told that we could no longer return to China, we had lost our jobs, and couldn’t even say goodbye to anyone; HQ Staff had the balls to tell us that in order to get our final service allowance, we were still required to fill out paperwork and that we shouldn’t be sad. We should be happy we served at all. 

They gave no time for mourning, many of us put two years of our lives on hold to do this program, some of us don’t even have homes to go back too and they want us to make decisions in 4 days. After Thursday, they will no longer provide any assistance with travel, we do not get health insurance, the moment we COS, PC shrugs off complete responsibility of over 100+ volunteers. 

I have been so busy filling out paperwork and I have been so incredibly angry and sad and resentful that the only person I’ve told is my Dad. Returning to the USA isn’t really an option and the plan I had set into motion is now nonexistent because I’m no longer allowed in the country I gave two years of my life to until they decide that this virus has been resolved. 

I have been spending a lot of time trying to figure out where I’m going to live, what job I’m going to have, how I can get a cellphone plan, where I can go because I’m being quarantined for having been in China within the last 14 days, how to manage the money I’m getting -- everything has been changing so rapidly that I still don’t know where I’m going to be by Friday since Peace Corps is only paying for the hotel up until then. 

I promise I’m not ignoring any of you, I really really want to be in a place where I can RP and chat with y’all, but life for me right now is moving so fucking fast and I have to make so many decisions that will affect my future that I literally have not stopped going since Sunday night. 

I still stand by my last message: I really appreciate all the messages you guys have been sending me. I do read them. I just don’t want to talk. I don’t have the emotional capacity to and I haven’t even been given time to just... process and be mad. 

I promise I’ll be back, just give me some time. 

[sol1056]

hey im the anon who asked about how you knew the stuff, sorry i wasn't too clear on what. i just read the post explaining EPs and how the behind the scene stuff worked and i wanted to know how you knew all that, like are you involved in the industry? or just a nerd?

gotcha! Well, remember how back in S1/S2, people kept pointing out Hunk could be… awfully nosy? always getting into things, asking questions?

I was over here going, YES HUNK IS MY PEOPLE. 

It’s a hallmark of a certain type of engineer: insatiable curiosity, and never satisfied with only one answer, always sure there’s more to discover. Okay, we’re not all engineers — a lot of us are Russian Lit majors — but the key is our drive to discover. We take apart, put back together, connect dots close and far, turn things around and study them from a new direction. We’re those people who randomly show up in your part of the building, poke our heads in the room and say, “so, what do all y’all do here? what’s this do? hey, what’s that?”

Despite the fact that most of us seem to be (strangely) strong introverts, that doesn’t stop us. We’ve got questions for everyone. We’ll talk to total strangers all day if we’re on the trail of a particularly interesting idea. In a nutshell, we’re utterly shameless.

I did post-production back when NLE was relatively new and the compositing applications required massive nearly-mainframe computing power. I was mostly in the sfx/cg areas, but I weaseled my way into the color suite pretty regularly. I sat in on editing sessions and was a happy lunch-fetching lackey if it got me a chance to watch the compositing team. Any lull meant a chance to chat up directors, cinematographers, producers, etc. I totally took advantage. 

It’s been awhile since I did that – and since then I’ve been a roady, a mental health & substance abuse admin, a doorman, and even owned a bookstore, before going corporate. But for every wacky thing I’ve done, I’ve also kept in touch with people I met. Frex: the friend who got me the post-production job is now an executive producer. Yes, I do call him with questions. He’s used to it. If he doesn’t know an answer, he sends me to someone who does. (Another reason we’ve been friends for so long.) One answer is never sufficient, never a reason to stop there.

Meet one novelist, get introduced to six more, and three of them write for TV. Oh, that’s handy. Should save that contact, could be useful someday. It’s actually rare for someone to say no, come to think of it. idk, as long as I can get access, I can usually get the person to tell me something I can use. 

However, since my actual area of expertise applies across many industries, I’ve worked all kinds of places. A lot of it’s client-facing, and if you think that means I’m not wandering around the client site poking my head into rooms and cheerfully interviewing people on the spot, then you haven’t been paying attention.

Now that I work at a multinational corporation, I have literally thousands of people in my network, including everyone who’s moved on to a new place. You might be surprised how many people are fine with, “hey, I work at X with Y, and Y told me you’d know this.” Of course, everyone has a bias and a view limited to their own experience, so you can’t stop there. You can’t really understand a situation without knowing the agendas of all the players. You gotta ask a bunch of people, make sure you’re getting the most rounded sense of things. 

Not really a hardship for me. It’s kinda the whole point. 

People are people everywhere (outside cultural quirks), and it’s rare I’m ever researching a single person (I’m not an investigative journalist, if you were wondering). Most of the time, I’m looking for the industry-based cultural expectations. As in, “given X and Y, what would someone who does A generally think is a reasonable action, in this situation?”  

The key is to have a believable reason for asking, and being a writer definitely qualifies. “I’m researching for a story, and I have a character who do X. I wanted to know if it’s realistic for them to know Y. Who do you think would be the best person to ask?” I frequently cold-call, and I never ask “is there someone there,” I ask who they think is the best person. A lot of times it ends up being someone that the phone operator knows (personally or by reputation) who’s full of bizarre trivia and enjoys a chance to show it off. (Plus, it’s amazing what you can learn about a person from all the other subtle cues people are unaware they’re telling, when they’re focused on their area of expertise.)

That’s how I ended up interviewing the Director of the DEA about whether a non-US-university degree would satisfy the education requirement. His letter of introduction got me monthly lunches for awhile with the DEA director in my city. (Oh, the stories I heard.) It’s how I learned about sheep subsidies from one of the top execs at the USDA, and that there’s a single surviving Civil War widow still getting a VA pension. Going in person is even more fun. You could wind up talking to one of the very few artists in the world whose speciality is touching up pre-Renaissance books so the repairs aren’t visible. Or the art historian whose job is going through the nation’s attic and identifying century-old fakes. 

I’ve talked to embassy officials from five different countries, NASA biophysicists and astrophysicists, OSHA inspectors, Nobel prize-winning economists, police detectives, celebrity chefs, environmental lawyers, arena-level sound-people, race-car drivers, potters, opera singers, patent examiners, train mechanics, fire marshals, foley artists, and club DJs. I’ve interviewed fashion photographers, farriers, puppeteers, lighting designers, Catholic bishops, bioethicists, rabbis, fighter pilots, public radio personalities, newspaper editors, chemists, club organizers, war correspondents, Episcopalian nuns (yes they exist), textile artists, prison architects, midwives, cabinetmakers, tall ship sailors, haute couture seamstresses, and civil engineers. On and on and on. 

Don’t neglect official avenues, either. The Department of Labor, the International Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners, the Screen Writers’ Guild, the list is nearly endless — any organization, union, or federal/state dept that sets or guides policy. Everyone has a bias, so what people consider normal is sometimes… not. Or they just didn’t know (or saw no need to know, the fools) the reason for A over B. You have to check the rules, because a discrepancy between what you’re told should be done versus what people tell you is actually done… is also useful to know. 

(Labor practices are definitely one of those areas, since federal labor policy is something every company must observe. It’s the law. So when a workplace seems to be violating the law, it raises a lot of interesting questions.) 

And finally, of course, there’s traditional research. Textbooks written by people in an industry can be particularly interesting, especially if it’s a book meant for readers outside that industry (which usually means a lot of firsthand anecdotes to round out the gaps). Popular articles, academic essays, post-mortem white papers, TED talks, interviews. You need to do your basic homework, because there’s no waste of someone’s time quite like asking them a question that’s patently absurd once you get past common assumptions. 

I once explained the plot of a popular SF show to a NASA astrophysicist, and his response was simply, “Every word you used was English, but those words in that order make absolutely no sense at all.” Kind of a dead-end, there. You can’t come at a top-level expert with intro-level questions. 

Since I don’t always know who I’ll stumble over next, being an information sponge means I at least have a whole encyclopedia of analogies. If I can find  common ground (cars and houses are two of the best), I can at least get a basic idea of the person’s meaning. “Oh, so it’s like when you turn the key in the ignition, and the lights don’t come on because the battery is dead?” 

It’s asking the right questions, using an open and friendly approach, and having the right timing. Remember: there is no such thing as unskilled labor; there is only undervalued labor. That is, their time is also valuable, so be brief, open, and sincere. Treat every person as if they’re an authority in something, even if you haven’t figured out what that is. 

The world is a massively complex place, and contains more things than are dreamt of in our philosophies, all of it waiting to be discovered.

Or, the shorter version:

btw: I don’t actually recommend going in person to the Dept of the Interior, though. You’ll get lost. Like, instantly. That place is MASSIVE.

[dwyerlawrence9-blog]

Trump's Excellent Poor Talking Style.

With online message apps like WhatsApp as well as Snapchat acquiring a growing number of popular, and also Facebook Carrier, numerous Android consumers all still very likely use normal text message messaging applications. Although at first sight Vista and also Seven styles are comparable, they are far various baseding on usability and visuals amount. Samsung activity at Mobile Planet Congress Feb 21, 2016 The South Korean giant will definitely exhibit its own most recent mobile phone, the Universe S7, as well as might also talk about its major push in digital truth. If you are actually someone that enjoys to show, beginning a blog site could provide the opportunity to educate others considering your field of skills. And also, if your blog post comes to be very popular, you might get found by an agent or author while you're at this. Very merely the only technique to get a reduced car insurance policy cost is by utilizing the local area representatives and afterwards just if they know they are actually competing from various other neighborhood agents. You can learned about exactly how she swiftly became an honor succeeding writer in her e-book, The Globe from Wanderlust Account. Because 2005 the marketing income on her blog site alone has actually been enough to support her household. As lots of on the internet businessmen know, memberships are actually a simple way to gather reoccuring settlements and also for that reason is actually a reputable revenue you can easily rely on for your writing a blog attempts. While Georgia possesses more affordable gas prices, locals will definitely likewise deal with much higher insurance policy premiums ($ 1,559 every year) as well as treatment fixing costs ($ 418). Howevered, this's very easy to reveal why the Style is the only smartwatch our company wish to apply our wrists. But there are numerous unique (and often ignored) treatment choices that create a powerful influence on your general health and wellness and also the progression of your autoimmune ailment. Merely always remember to accomplish your research just before carrying out any auto Foreign exchange device exchanging software program. Autoimmune ailment is basically your physique betraying you (through striking you). Again, it's important to particularly ask your insurer regarding these offers, due to the fact that they usually won't talk to if your circumstances qualify you to one. Blog sites additionally possess many plugins readily available that permit you to add advanced functions without should understand any kind of shows, or even should employ someone to carry out the computer programming for you. With check here being actually featured on every media resource you can possibly imagine, a mom blogger might determine to put her title in the competing presidency. Like some other sites much like these there are actually scammer hanging around to take your cash. A lot of complications disclosed off people who have actually utilized my tutorial concern getting Word to publish graphics to weblogs; simply put, this demands you possess a graphic lot that makes it possible for publishing by means of FTP. That is actually certainly not too hard to get: Name es the title that you'll phone the 'batch', Fullname is the specific name that seems on the food selection, and also course is exactly how you ought to phone the path where you'll locate your roms within EmulatorStation, which is actually why you won't must point out the origin. If you intend to maintain your personal profile distinct off your writer profile page, our team advise incorporating author" to your title. Along with Blog sites you may pick a label that features the keyword phrases for your market, generate as well as connect bunches of weblogs. that create in effect a web 'web site'. BLOG POST EN VIVO: Presentación del http://rapid-deregenerare.info , 2016 Los angeles gigante coreana presenta los angeles nueva versión de su well-known teléfono de pantalla gigante y lápiz óptico.

In contrast to common beliefs, Coca-Cola's very first logo design was actually certainly not the text company logo our company see today, but seemed instead as a dull-looking black font spelling out its own name. All the excellent topics on your blogging pad have either been faultlessly dealt with in an additional blog site or even you merely have the label, yet no web content the compose. This book starts you right at the beginning, along with helpful tips for selecting a blog site topic, a name, as well as a blog writing platform. Certainly, obtaining released on a well-established weblog requires insight as well as something brand new to become contributed to the dialogue. They likewise help with easily handling what design is actually impacting an aspect with little bit of hassle. Jason Dunn is actually the man behind Feelings Media, a neighborhood of web sites that includes Wallet PC Thoughts, a web site I make certain a number of you are familiar along with. CSS Concept Occultist is actually an associate that, via a set from bit-by-bit directions, assists you to produce CSS design slabs from square one to make use of in your personal website, off picking the principal design template to the place of the page's content. To stop customers off mixing up the past attempt along with the most recent progression, the brand new major release will certainly operate as PHP 7. This is something they almost never talk about, and also to today I possess no idea how they managed to get out. He is actually extremely truthful regarding whatever here featuring: racism, medications, females, bodily maltreatment, songs, family problems and so on. This publication is actually filled in a quite comfy type as if Miles is sitting across coming from you on a couch, lower legs crossed smoking cigarettes a cigarette and frequently drinking on brandy or even scotch (or each) off a side dining table. Job in the automobile business, which had performed a stable then high decline given that 2005, reached stone base in June 2009 - the same month GM declared insolvency and also, under Obama administration oversight, began restructuring its procedures. Fly style views have been actually around for some time as well as nearly all watch companies deliver one, whereas the Flieger is actually a somewhat current trend as well as merely some brands deliver all of them.

[orbemnews]

It May Be a Nice Yr, if Your Enterprise Survives Winter For Ashlie Ordonez, proprietor of the Naked Bar Studio, a spa in Denver, vaccinations for the coronavirus can’t come quickly sufficient. Whereas she anticipates higher days later this 12 months, surviving till then will probably be a battle, and he or she is aware of the following few months will probably be lean ones. “I offered my wedding ceremony ring so we might pay the payments and preserve the doorways open,” she stated. “I’m sacrificing every thing to make it by means of this pandemic.” Vinay Patel, who manages a sequence of 9 motels in Maryland and Virginia, is wanting even additional out for a restoration: “2022 is once we’ll see the true true potential of the vaccine.” Mr. Patel added that his greatest hope for the approaching 12 months is a measure of stability, if not prosperity. As 2021 begins, enterprise house owners huge and small confront a quickly shifting panorama. An finish to the pandemic is in sight as inoculations start, however the gradual tempo of vaccinations has delayed the turnaround they have been relying on. Hanging on is the chief purpose for a lot of, whilst others stay up for what they contemplate to be an inevitable rebound. This 12 months “will not be going to be a stroll by means of the park, however I’m optimistic,” stated Jimmy Etheredge, chief government for North America at Accenture, the technique and consulting firm. “The eggs are within the vaccine basket.” Whilst he anticipates a turnaround, Mr. Etheredge emphasised that lots of the adjustments wrought by the pandemic, equivalent to working remotely and a shift to cloud know-how by firms, are right here to remain. “Ten months of pandemic has accelerated technological change by 10 years,” he stated. “We’re by no means going to return to the way in which issues have been earlier than.” Within the meantime, it’s clear that there will probably be winners and losers this 12 months. Restaurateurs, leisure and hospitality companies and the journey business will proceed to battle as a surge in Covid-19 instances prompts renewed lockdowns in lots of elements of the nation. Few count on imminent salvation. The largest firms, alternatively, are positioning themselves for what could possibly be a surge in consumption when the pandemic recedes. Expertise, manufacturing, well being care and another industries are booming. Certainly, the distinction was evident final week as main inventory indexes notched new highs even because the Labor Division reported that the financial system misplaced 140,000 jobs in December. It was the primary decline in months, with the leisure and hospitality sector alone dropping half 1,000,000 positions as lockdowns are enacted. “There’s gentle on the finish of the tunnel,” stated Brian Moynihan, chief government of Financial institution of America. “However there’s a aspect of the financial system that’s nonetheless in bother. There’s a gaggle of Individuals who wish to go to work however can’t as a result of work isn’t open.” Mr. Moynihan stated he was happy that the $900 billion pandemic reduction package deal was handed and signed into legislation after many matches and begins, and he favors extra stimulus if obligatory. Roughly 19 million staff are amassing unemployment advantages, and the employment image stays bleak for a lot of lower-wage staff within the service financial system. President-elect Joseph R. Biden Jr. signaled Friday that trillions of {dollars}’ price of recent stimulus could possibly be on the way in which, and the approaching Democratic management of the Senate makes that rather more doubtless. As attempting as the following few months appear, the financial system is in higher form than within the months after Covid-19 first struck, when unemployment soared to 14.8 p.c. The jobless charge in December stood at 6.7 p.c. Vacation spending by Financial institution of America clients was 2.5 p.c greater than final 12 months, and account holders even have extra in financial savings than they did earlier than the pandemic. “There’s a bunch of sectors which can be doing very nicely when it comes to earnings,” Mr. Moynihan added. Even so, these stay occasions of limbo for a lot of executives and enterprise house owners, when the previous guidelines now not apply however the post-pandemic actuality has but to materialize. Up to date  Jan. 12, 2021, 3:19 p.m. ET “The times of getting a everlasting funds or a everlasting plan are gone for some time,” stated Mercedes Abramo, chief government for North America on the luxury-goods purveyor Cartier. “You’ve acquired to handle by means of this ambiguity.” Adaptation is a method that Ivan Kane, proprietor of a restaurant and nightclub in Columbus, Ohio, is aware of by coronary heart. To adjust to social-distancing necessities, he diminished the venue’s capability from 320 to 117, filling what was previously a dance ground with tables to offer ample area between friends. To draw clients, he purchased 15 hospital-grade ultraviolet disinfecting lamps, and he not too long ago acquired an igloo to permit friends to dine exterior whereas protected against the weather. Within the coming months, Mr. Kane hopes he’ll have the ability to break even, however he predicts that will probably be a 12 months earlier than he is ready to usher within the crowds essential to make his enterprise worthwhile. “The margins are razor-thin,” he stated. “It’s nearly conserving the lights on.” However for different enterprise house owners, the vaccine has arrived too late. In September, Camilla Marcus closed West-bourne, her restaurant within the SoHo neighborhood of New York, after she was unable to renegotiate her lease to scale back lease prices. Ms. Marcus has stored a trickle of cash coming in by promoting packaged meals on her firm’s web site in addition to holding digital occasions. However she has no plans to open one other restaurant. “It’s going to get so much worse earlier than it will get higher,” she stated. “It’s going to be a protracted haul.” Others, like Roy Paulson, a manufacturing facility proprietor in Temecula, Calif., are feeling safer. Like many producers, he has had robust demand throughout the pandemic for the commercial face shields and goggles his firm makes for the likes of welders and electricians. The Second Stimulus Solutions to Your Questions In regards to the Stimulus Invoice Up to date Dec 30, 2020 The financial reduction package deal will difficulty funds of $600 and distribute a federal unemployment good thing about $300 for a minimum of 10 weeks. Discover extra in regards to the measure and what’s in it for you. For particulars on how one can get help, try our Hub for Assist. Will I obtain one other stimulus cost? Particular person adults with adjusted gross revenue on their 2019 tax returns of as much as $75,000 a 12 months will obtain a $600 cost, and a pair (or somebody whose partner died in 2020) incomes as much as $150,000 a 12 months will get twice that quantity. There’s additionally a $600 cost for every youngster for households who meet these revenue necessities. Individuals who file taxes utilizing the pinnacle of family standing and make as much as $112,500 additionally get $600, plus the extra quantity for kids. Individuals with incomes simply above these ranges will obtain a partial cost that declines by $5 for each $100 in revenue. When would possibly my cost arrive? The Treasury Division stated on Dec. 29 that it had began making direct deposit funds, and would start to mail checks the following day. However will probably be some time earlier than all eligible folks obtain their cash. Does the settlement have an effect on unemployment insurance coverage? Lawmakers agreed to increase the period of time that folks can acquire unemployment advantages and restart an additional federal profit that’s supplied on prime of the same old state profit. However as an alternative of $600 every week, it could be $300. That can final by means of March 14. I’m behind on my lease or count on to be quickly. Will I obtain any reduction? The settlement will present $25 billion to be distributed by means of state and native governments to assist renters who’ve fallen behind. To obtain help, households will have to fulfill a number of circumstances: Family revenue (for 2020) can not exceed greater than 80 p.c of the realm median revenue; a minimum of one family member have to be prone to homelessness or housing instability; and people should qualify for unemployment advantages or have skilled monetary hardship — immediately or not directly — due to the pandemic. The settlement stated help will be prioritized for households with decrease incomes and which have been unemployed for 3 months or extra. New fashions of shields, initially set to be launched final 12 months, will probably be popping out quickly, which Mr. Paulson hopes will additional increase gross sales. Final week, the Institute for Provide Administration reported that its manufacturing index jumped in December to its highest studying since August 2018. “Manufacturing is alive and nicely in Southern California and the U.S.,” Mr. Paulson stated. “I’m anticipating a superb 12 months.” Whereas the scenario could be very totally different for eating places, some are assured that the business will rebound. “We predict issues will flip the nook within the not-too-distant future,” stated Brian Niccol, chief government of Chipotle Mexican Grill. He’s eyeing summer time or early fall for a return to regular, including that “folks will wish to eat and socialize and eating places will probably be nicely positioned.” Mr. Niccol has some main benefits over small entrepreneurs — his firm is debt-free with a powerful money place and a inventory market capitalization of practically $40 billion. However some small enterprise house owners share his optimism. Andy Rodriguez, co-founder and chief government of the Salty Donut, an artisan doughnut store and low bar with areas in Texas and Florida, believes that the pandemic will strengthen his enterprise in the long term. After the virus struck, Mr. Rodriguez needed to quickly rework his firm’s enterprise mannequin, which used to rely closely on in-store site visitors and company catering. He made the doughnut store’s full menu out there on Uber Eats, and beefed up its social media presence to encourage clients to position on-line orders. Mr. Rodriguez hopes that the work the enterprise has completed to construct its digital gross sales platform will enable the enterprise not simply to recuperate, however flourish, because the pandemic subsides. “We’re going to be in a much better place than ever earlier than,” he stated. “We’re going to be firing on all cylinders.” Audrey Hoyt, who owns the Seattle-based co-working enterprise the Pioneer Collective along with her husband, can also be assured that within the coming 12 months there will probably be extra demand for his or her firm’s companies than ever earlier than. She believes that co-working preparations will probably be engaging to many companies in search of versatile workplace area throughout the transition to a post-pandemic world. Ms. Hoyt stated she hoped that Democratic management of the Senate would clear the way in which for extra stimulus efforts. “The implementation of extra loans and help to get small companies by means of this era is crucial,” she stated. “Now that the Democrats have extra energy, I’m extra hopeful we’ll have the ability to get the assistance we want.” Ms. Hoyt has been working to develop the corporate’s actual property holdings, whilst enterprise income has been lower in half due to the pandemic. As a result of business landlords are keen to draw tenants, the enterprise has had extra leverage in negotiating favorable lease phrases, Ms. Hoyt stated. She plans to open a brand new constructing in downtown Seattle in April. “It was a deliberate determination: Both we shut totally or we dig deeper and discover a option to stick this out,” she stated. “Hopefully we are going to come out stronger on the opposite aspect.” Ben Casselman contributed reporting. Supply hyperlink #Business #Great #survives #winter #Year

[rainwashedhistory]

Quarantine Journal

Apparently I am incapable of maintaining a daily pace -- part of this is trying to fit ONE day in at a time and finish the day and then forgetting the next morning.  I'ma TRY to get back to it but let's go a little free-form right now.  Maybe I'll start posting weekly instead?  Today is 6/13.  Some shit's gone down.

Shawn, my old boss from WWP died.  I feel bad that I never got to tell him what he meant to me.  I wrote a pretty long memorial thing on insta/facebook.  I'ma repost it here too... with a couple, more honest updates.  Readmore at the end.

I'm planning to go up to Redding for Shawn's memorial right after Father's day.  Terrified of COVID but hey.  This only is going to happen once.  I'm gonna stay with my high school bestie, and hopefully see my friends Aleesha and Robyn, at least.  And get some chicken rolls.  The sushi place we used to go to is under new ownership buuuuuut.  And this will almost certainly be the last time in my life I'm ever going to go to waterworks park, so let's make it count, I guess?  I bought a cute romper onepiece swimsuit that hides a bit of the quarantine bod.

On the way to Redding, I am officially gonna hit up Liz's place!  I miss my girl. Need to meet Connor!

Stafford House is officially gone for good.  I have cleaned out my classroom.  There are rumblings that the school might be bought by another co. that wants to do more vocational training -- fingers crossed that happens and that I'll have a job there?  Yikes. Hello Future, indeed.  I also stole my CAE books.  Hell if I'm giving those back.  I also took my test binders and a few mini-whiteboards that Patti offered

There's been a ton of BLM protests here.  I feel guilty af that I haven't been to a single one or done much of anything -- I just don't feel safe doing so.  Both physically, at protests where cops are pretty openly inciting violence, and... situationally?  OANN is quartered here, and if my parents see me at one of them, I stg they'll kick me out of my place.  Things downtown are pretty boarded up.  And like I'd be donating but I need to fucking save my money because COVID relief unemployment is not gonna last forever.

I spent like 2 weeks not talking to mom.  Had a call with her a couple days ago, though, and it was... fine.  No major yelling about politics.  Phew.

Therapy... I went this week.  Meh.  I'm not sure it's helping all that much.  I really want to start going in person again, this teletherapy stuff is balls.

I've been applying to jobs.  It's the worst.  Especially because even though there are a handful of job postings, with COVID, who even knows what'll happen.  will schools reopen?  I should really start pouring myself into the online teaching stuff but so many sites make it so difficult.  I re-applied to ALI, god give me strength.  And I need to re-apply to Miramar.  SIGH.

I'm hanging out more and more (every saturday) with Ricky, Mat, Stazia, and Nick.  This is helping give me some balance.  And kitty time. Whenever their skittish cats come chill with me I feel blessed.

I killed my sourdough starter, somehow.  All orange tinged.  Nick gave me a new one (dried).  I built it back up and have since found a me hair, a cat hair, and a big ass bug in it.  WTF?  It still... looks good though?  Gonna give it a bit to see if it goes off, too.

Meals for this week incluced hot honey butter-glazed chicken, fettuccine pasta & mushrooms, and one-pan vegetable udon.  All three were good but not necessarily mind-blowing.  I probably should start food logging again?

Painted my nails all pride-y.  Will post a pic later.

Bought lighting for computer desk and bedroom, FINALLY

Cats seem mostly flea-free, though mimosa is still not sleeping on the bed like a psycho

FINALLY (like 8 months later) got my car engine steam cleaned, will try to get an appointment to get my engine checked before I try to drive up to fucking Redding

Got the prelim documents in for my RealID.  I need to get an appointment at the DMV but they're not scheduling them right now

School starts Monday. I am nooooot ready.

Mortgage is delinquent?  Inquiring about COVID relief stopped payment on our autopay and now things are all messed up.  SIGH I hope this doesn't go on my credit.

Haven't been walking nearly enough.  It's really hard to make myself shift into that again, and frankly I need to.  It's been three months since I've worked out at all.

Keeping up with RnM with Erica.... it's a fucking wild ride and I'm soooo glad she loves it as much as I do

Started playing Assassin's Creed Odyssey.  It's fun af, but also not like... engrossing like HZD was, which means I don't feel too cranky when I can't play.  holy SHIT the world is huge tho.  And gorgeous.  But again, maybe... too huge, and too samey-same.  I get that that's the region, but I loved how HZD changed so much depending on the area you were.  SPEAKING OF HZD, the news about H2FW came out and hooooly shit I am hyped.  We're going to Cali!

Here have some more mask GPOYs

Other stuff:

Temp still normal, in the high 97/low 98 range

RHR is hovering around 64-67

Steps have been in the 2-3000 range, yikes

Weather has been lovely, why am I not going out more???

Ok fam, that's it.  Time to shower, get dressed, and head over to R&M's for weekly mandated social time.

source

https://katalyst.livejournal.com/494991.html

Shawn, you were my first, and one of my best mentors. You promoted me to management when I was an anxious, terrified, by-the-book 18 year old who had absolutely no idea why she was even considered for the position. You had so much faith in me and my abilities and you were the most patient boss I have ever had -- you taught me every year, for years, how to start up the pumps again, until I literally could do it in my sleep, even now, over a decade later. You taught me how to fix almost anything in the park, and you never acted like there was anything I was too fragile or stupid to do -- even when others did.

You were tough, and I never wanted to get on your bad side... but you were also supremely kind -- I remember you yelling at almost everyone, at least once, except me. Even when I deserved it and I made mistakes that would cost the company money. I remember begging you to take it out of my paycheck and you just stopping and laughing and telling me it was okay, just not to do it again. I think you knew I would crumble, and all you ever wanted to do was build me up.

You knew the value, and the joy in a hard day's work... and you also knew how to take it easy, and that both are vitally important. I remember the day I slept straight through my alarm and you opened the whole park without calling me, just to give me a little break. I remember the way you taught me that management was never above any job -- if you expected your employees to do something, you'd always pitch in and show them that you weren't too good to clean a toilet, too. I'll never forget your 36 hour days, or your calling in well to work, or shiraz Saturdays. I desperately miss sitting in your office or up on the side of the river ride and eating pizza and talking. Everything I loved about Waterworks really came down to working with you and the community you helped foster there.

You taught me how to find my voice and stand on my own two feet in a job that I found utterly terrifying, after living with a family where I never had one. You were a second dad to me -- one who stuck up for me, who was always in my corner. I honestly don't think, if it weren't for you, that I would have found the confidence to pursue teaching. There is so much good in my life that you helped me reach for, and I will always be grateful.I'll be opening a big bottle of Yellowtail this Saturday in your honor. I miss you.

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

mo

How to make your firm more diverse and inclusive

Tips for chief executives

Print edition | Business

Nov 7th 2019

To: ceo

cc: pa

Subject: A hard-headed guide to corporate diversity

Dear David,

You face pressure to “do something” about diversity in your company—not only from your wife and woke children. Corporate clients increasingly demand it in your supply chain. Regulators, who use a “stable” or “inclusive” culture as a proxy for low risk, are breathing down your neck. Governments like Britain’s, which now mandates pay-gap reporting, insist on making more of your sensitive data public. And employees, including former ones, can air their complaints on social media.

Small wonder that 87% of your fellow bosses told consultants at pwc that diversity is a business priority. I’m sure you did, too. After all, you recently posted a job opening for a diversity manager. You were not alone; the number of such offers in Britain has doubled in the past year, say analysts at Glassdoor, a recruitment website. Since June 2017 more than 800 American ceos have signed a pledge to “advance diversity and inclusion in the workplace”.

That is where we are: lots of talk, plenty of initiatives, little change on the ground. Between 2015 and 2018 the share of female executives at large (mostly) American and British firms went from 12% to 14%; for ethnic minorities it moved from 12% to 13%. The ftse 100 has fewer female ceos (six) than it does bosses who share your name (seven). In American companies with over 100 employees, the share of black men in management was 3.4% in 2017, half their share in the population as a whole—and virtually unchanged from 3% in 1985. White women make up 25% of executives and senior managers, compared with 60% for white men. Something is clearly amiss.

In the past this letter would have gone straight to your legal department. Since the term “diversity” entered the corporate lexicon in the 1960s it has been code for avoiding lawsuits—especially in America, where companies have coughed up billions in fines for discrimination over the years. The financial sector still treats it mostly as a compliance issue.

Now you are no doubt tempted to forward it to someone in hr, almost certainly a woman with an arts degree, a sound moral compass and too little power. Don’t. This is your problem. Without your leadership it is unlikely to be solved soon.

Keep reading

Deep inside, you may be wondering if anything really needs solving. The short answer is: it does. With that in mind, you should ask yourself three things.

First, why does diversity matter to your firm? Is your reputation in trouble, as it was for Uber, Nike, Lloyd’s of London and others scarred by #MeToo? Do you, like consumer giants such as p&g, hope that more diversity makes for better products? Are you concerned about attracting and retaining bright sparks? You would be in good company: 97% of executives fret about increased competition for talent (according to Mercer’s hr consultants).

Or are you hoping that diversity will boost the bottom line? To be perfectly honest, I have no idea if it does. It is hard to tell if diversity helps firms do well, or if successful firms are also more enlightened on other matters. But variety has been linked to innovation, productivity and, for example in diverse teams of surgeons, fewer mistakes. Lack of it breeds groupthink—which in turn can lead to disasters. The Bay of Pigs invasion and the Lehman Brothers collapse stemmed from narrow-mindedness. And employees who believe their firm cares about gender diversity are 40% more likely to be satisfied at work—and possibly more productive as a result.

Once you have sorted out the why, consider where you want to get to. Some firms, like Facebook, Nike or p&g, say they wish to mirror their customer base. Others are keen not to recruit from an artificially thin talent pool. Goldman Sachs claims its new entry-level recruitment targets—50% female and, in America, 14% Hispanic and 11% black—are based on things like graduation rates. Clear goals make it easier to assess if you are on track. But make them attainable. Qantas’s goal of 40% of its pilot intake to be female by 2028 is as admirable as it looks unrealistic: today just one in 20 pilots worldwide is a woman.

The third question concerns barriers that stop diverse talent from flourishing at your firm. Mapping how it flows through your organisation and where the blockages and leaks happen is a start. A McKinsey study of more than 300 companies identified the second step of the career ladder, from entry level to manager, as the “broken rung”: for every 100 men only 72 women (and just 68 Hispanic and 58 black ones) earned that critical early promotion. When Google was losing women in disproportionate numbers it homed in on maternity as the principal cause; the technology giant increased maternity leave and support for mothers returning to work.

Staff surveys can help, provided they are large and comprehensive enough. After its #MeToo moment, Lloyd’s, an insurance market, found that 45% of staff felt unable to raise concerns about improper conduct. Employees are now encouraged to speak up, including through a bullying-and-harassment helpline. A “culture dashboard” tracking progress on survey metrics will be published with the Lloyd’s annual report.

Now you’ve got your diversity-and-inclusion priorities straight and diagnosed what needs fixing. Good. Before you order a rainbow float for a Pride parade and send staff on a micro-aggression avoidance course, here is what not to do.

American firms spend billions a year on training. Half of large ones have unconscious-bias seminars. Most of these “d&i” programmes are a waste. Or worse: recent research from America shows that diversity statements can put off minorities, possibly because they perceive them as tokenism. Often, firms do d but forget i, which is about ensuring that the workforce is not just diverse, but thriving. Too many try to fix people instead of procedures. Training women to be more assertive in asking for a promotion or pay rise is pointless; they are just as likely to ask for these but also likelier to be seen as pushy when they do. Ushering your managers onto the “Check Your Blind Spots bus”, currently touring America as part of the ceos’ drive, is unlikely to do much. “Days of understanding”, popular in American offices, risk causing “diversity fatigue”. It is hard to beat bias out of individuals—easier to root it out of systems.

The don’ts

Take Silicon Valley. Big Tech has splurged on d&i to little effect. Representation of blacks and Hispanics has been flat (see chart). Girls Who Code, an industry-sponsored ngo, found that a quarter of young women who applied for internships at tech firms said they were asked inappropriate or biased questions. Others reported being flirted with or demeaned. It’s no use hiring diverse coders if the message then is: wear a hoodie and pretend to be a guy, or this is no place for you. They will underperform—or flee, leaving you as undiverse as before. Firms that do not change their ways beyond recruitment see high attrition rates of diverse talent. A lack of diversity is a symptom of deeper problems that a few diversity hires won’t mend.

At this point the how should be relatively clear. In a nutshell, it is all about creating a level playing field. When recruiting, software can mute biases by concealing giveaways to a candidate’s gender or ethnic identity. These include names but also less obvious hints like the sports they play. If only the usual suspects apply, look harder. Specialised recruitment drives, such as visiting “black” colleges or advertising in women’s forums, appear to work. The Bank of England no longer visits the Russell group of top universities, whose graduates apply in spades anyway, and focuses instead on less elite schools. bhp, an Anglo-Australian mining giant, broadened its search for female miners by recruiting from professions, such as nursing, with some similar skills.

In an effort to find trainees from different backgrounds, British law firms are trying “contextual recruitment”. An applicant with Bs from a school where everyone got Cs may be more impressive than one with As from a place full of A* pupils. Rare, a recruitment firm, has developed software which screens candidates for disadvantage and gauges their outperformance against the average for their school.

Once in the workplace, the clearer your criteria for professional advancement, the better. Informality is the enemy of women and minorities. It perpetuates bias. Surveys of American engineers and lawyers found that female workers were nearly twice as likely as their male peers to be saddled with “office housework”, like setting up meetings and conference calls. White men were likelier to be given careerenhancing tasks such as client meetings.

Sponsorship schemes are an effective way to ensure traditionally sidelined groups get a fair shot. PayScale, a pay-comparison site, found that employees with a sponsor made 11.6% more than those without. The Bank of England has offered most of its sponsorship places to ethnic-minority women. Staff surveys, if bite-sized but regular, can bring clarity to fuzzy inclusion metrics. “Psychological safety”, lingo for an environment where people feel free to speak their mind, can be tracked with questions like “are your ideas regularly attributed to someone else?” or “are you regularly interrupted in meetings?” Rotating who chairs a meeting, or a firm word with loudmouths who dominate it, can help.

Many employers—yourself included—would be horrified to learn that they implicitly require employees who want to be considered leadership material to adjust their behaviour. Women shouldn’t need to “act like a man”, gay employees to “act straight” or people with frizzy hair to treat it to “look professional” (ie, white). Let grievances fester and your workers will lose motivation or simply leave.

That is a lot to take in. But unless you do, your most valuable resource—workers—will not be as good as it could be. Best to get ahead of the problem. It isn’t that hard. And it can pay off mightily.

Yours,

Shareholder■

[roxywashere]

Feel the Fire

A long retired supervillain is pulled back into action.

Xena Noble had made her fame in the 2040’s as a supervillainess, the shape-shifting and pyrokinetic Salamander. She never killed, but she did cause billions of dollars in property damage in Danesville, Wisconsin over the ten years she was active. In the latter years she began to become disillusioned with her chaos and sought desperately for escape. She had gotten her chance in the form of Renegade, a superheroine she had fought many times. One time, she had gotten too zealous for her good, and had very nearly killed Xena. Xena had let her think she had. She shapeshifted away from the wreckage of the building the Salamander had died in, and never used that name again. Xena had never been unmasked, and would never be chased after; it was the perfect crime.

She sought normalcy. She applied for a job as a teacher at a superhuman school, the Astra Academy in upstate Wisconsin, so she could put the knowledge that had created the Salamander to good use.

By sheer coincidence, she managed to become close friends with Renegade’s civilian identity, Alice Prince, who was also a teacher at the same school. In the fifty years since, she had come out as a former villain to the rest of the superhuman staff, and had been forgiven and accepted by the vast majority of them. She had found normalcy.

But now there were some jackasses kicking around and causing chaos using her old name.

She had gone to Danesville, her old city of operation, where the new Salamanders had been making a ruckus. She was standing in front of a still smoldering arson site, as snow drifted from sky onto her afro and wind fluttered her coat. Police were still swarming the scene, and she tagged one down, flashing her Astra’s League (associate) badge. “Morning officer. I’m Xena Noble, from the Astra Academy. We have reason to believe that two of our graduates did this. What can you tell me?”

“The owner of the building said he saw...” The officer hesitated. “Well, he described them as Demons. Big, 7-8 feet tall. Pitch black skin, and glowing mouths and eyes. That ring any bells?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” They hadn’t just stolen her name, they were stealing her look, too.

“Well thank goodness. I hope you don't mind us pawning this off on you, but we’ve been swamped this week with all of the Harlequin activity.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’ll take it from here.”

“I’ll go grab some of the files.”

Xena pulled out her phone, dialed it, and held it front of her. A hologram appeared above it showing Alice Prince's elderly face.

“They definitely know my old MO,” Xena explained. “They even impersonated my old combat form. If they're both half as good as I was, well, you can do the math.”

“Feel free to call down some help,” Alice pleaded.

“Once I’m actually on their trail, maybe then. Talk to you later.” She hung up. Xena had always been a lone wolf type.

The officer returned with a data card. “This is everything we have on this investigation, and the ones with the same ID’d perps. Drop by the station if there’s anything else you need.”

“Will do.”

Xena walked off, plugging the card into her phone. She read while she walked, and by the time she had gotten to where she was going, she had read all of it. She stopped in front of an old warehouse. It was visually the same as it was before but it obviously wasn’t the same building as the one that she had headquartered in, since Alice and Xena had destroyed it in their last fight. She didn’t even have any reason to suspect that the new Salamanders would be there, she just went there because it’s what she would have done.

The building was abandoned, as it had when she had first taken up residence, because of a downturned economy. The door was chained shut, so she checked that the coast was clear, grabbed the lock, and turned up the heat in her palm, melting the brass away. She forced open the door and kept the heat in her palm going, redirecting it into a flame to light the warehouse. It almost looked too much like it did when she had lived there. If her eidetic memory wasn’t betraying her, it was identical down to the patches of peeling paint on the walls, and the grease stains on the floor.

She ignited her whole body instinctually, and absorbed her clothes and phone into herself to protect them. She turned her skin into diamond-hard black carbon, and turned her eyes and mouth into bright orange embers. This was what she had called the Salamander: A fire elemental with no set form. Her body was a domain which she held full control over, every atom and its energy subject to her will.

Xena cautiously spun on the spot, scanning the now fully illuminated warehouse carefully. As she did so she spotted two shapes crawling from shadow to shadow. She growled at them, her mouth spitting smoke and fire.

They slunk out of the shadows, like serpents, not moving but growing and receding in her direction. They solidified into the forms of two androgynous teenagers, one with pale skin and long black hair, and the other with tan skin and short auburn hair. Xena did recognise them, they had been enrolled at the Academy. They had also taken a suspiciously high percentage of her classes. Xena now realized they had just been been studying her the entire time.

“Look who finally came crawling back to the cradle,” said the auburn.

“What a pathetic excuse for an Elemental,” the brunet taunted.

“What do you want from me?” Xena shouted at them.

“We want you to suffer,” said the brunet, standing where the auburn had been.

“You’ve abandoned your heritage,” said the auburn, standing where the brunet had been.

“You’ve forgotten who you are.”

“You’ve lost your flame.”

“Why should I care what two punk-ass kids think?” Xena taunted in return.

The two were gone, as quick as a blink, though Xena could swear she hadn’t. She spun around, and was met with two Titans, 30-foot tall lumbering masses of fire, soot, and shadow. “What about what we think?” they asked in unison. One of them grabbed her, and the other surrounded her with it’s hands, and she felt their heat. She didn’t just feel it, they were burning her, and she screamed, in pain and anger. Just when she thought their fire would consume her...

She snapped out of the lifelike deception, standing in a warehouse that looked no more like the one she had called home than any other would. Her heart was racing. She looked at her hands: Brown skin, not black carbon. She felt her face, and massaged her temples. “Shit, I do need to call in some help.”

And for deception magic as powerful as that, there was only one person capable of studying it and possibly tracing it: Aradia Furst.

Aradia was Alice's niece, and though most of their family wasn't on speaking terms with itself, Aradia always kept close tabs on her relatives’ allies. When Xena had come out as a former villain, Aradia had briefly kidnapped Xena to interrogate her for her intentions. Xena had passed with flying colors, and as a reparation Aradia offered her services for any magic-related troubles Xena may encounter.

And Xena figured now was definitely the time to cash that favour.

“If I didn’t know any better, Xena,” Aradia explained after hearing Xena’s recounting of the daydream, “I’d say your mysterious and unexplained backstory was catching up with you. You’ve always said you got your powers in a lab accident, but that doesn’t line up with what I’m hearing from you now.”

Aradia was hovering, Lotus-Position, in the center of her workshop. Her black and gold robes hung to the floor, and they glittered and shone with reflections of the glyphs and holograms that covered the walls. Her long brown hair floated freely, and her golden eyes shone with their own light.

“It was lab accident. I was doing my work with Heat-Controlled Cellular Regeneration, a bit of the test culture got on my hand, and then the propane tank fueling my bunsen burner backed up and the lab exploded. That’s all that I remember.”

“Hmm.” Aradia reached her feet to the ground, and walked towards her workbench. “A propane tank spontaneously backfiring at such an opportune time sounds like the work of a Metanarrative Totem.” With a few flicks of her wrist, Aradia summoned a stylized glyph of a spider, and then X’ed it out and drew a stylized salamander in front of it with her finger. “With that kind of force at work it’s a miracle there’s only three of you. Last time a Totemic power got unleashed upon a multiverse a thousand of them went to war, and nobody wants that again.”

Xena just stared at Aradia, unused to seeing this less-than-stoic version of her.

Aradia sighed. “This reference is being wasted on you. Spiderman, Spider Totems, Spider Verse. You’ve never heard of any of that, because Marvel and DC don’t exist in this universe.” Aradia rubbed her face. “I need to get out more.”

Aradia had an apparent revelation with that sentence. “There's an idea, take me to the place it happened. I'll be able to study the magic better if I’m immersed in it. Where was the warehouse?”

“Down by the Pike River outlet.”

Aradia drew a wide circle with her fingers, which then tunneled through the fabric of reality, opening a portal to the Pike River embankment. She stepped through, and beckoned Xena to follow. When she did, Aradia gestured for her to lead the way. Xena led her to the warehouse, and Aradia started casting spells to reveal the magic that had triggered the daydream, summoning illusions and holograms displaying in complicated detail every facet of the space.

“Oh, this is definitely Totemic in nature. It’s got strong traces of Demonic influence, as well, that’s never a good sign. If the Demons are directly involved I may need to summon divine assistance.”

“ ‘Divine assistance’?” Xena asked.

Aradia ignored her question, deeming her not ready for the answer. “A Demon is a worst case scenario, though. Most likely it’s just magic based upon the Deceiver’s own, and not it actually.” She focussed on the glyphs surrounding her as they honed in on the source of the magics. “There we go. Very strong. Ancient. Absolutely Totemic. But, not Demonic, and therefore in my jurisdiction. Would you mind if I called my sister in to aid us?”

“If you think she’ll be able to help.”

Aradia performed an incantation, and after a moment, she created another portal. Out of it stepped a figure.

Thrud Furst was tall, wearing a combination of robes and gold and black metallic body armor. She had long black hair, flowing in the breeze coming from behind her, through the portal. The skin of her face, the only skin of hers exposed, was heavily tanned. Her left eye was replaced with a complicated connector, a port to interface with any other magitech. The skin around it looked violently scarred, and more scars peeked around the edges of the bodysuit hiding her neck. Her arms and legs were not organic, but instead gold and black prostheses, designed to look and act like metallic muscle. She was holding in her hands a very ornate gold and obsidian mask, with a glass slit across the front and a jack inside that matched the one on her eye. After stepping through the portal she placed the mask upon her face, and the glass slit started glowing red.

“The hunt is on, sister,” Thrud said, her voice distorted in an almost robotic manner, summoning a golden sword from the thin air behind her back.

“Indeed it is, sister,” Aradia replied. “Pseudo-Demonic magic, made to mimic the manipulations of New Jerusalem's Deceiver.”

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. Where are they?”

Aradia studied her holograms more. “The foundries in the south of the city. How apropos.” She summoned another portal, straight to the foundries along the  border with Chicago at the south end of the city.

“I imagine drawing them out will be as simple as you arriving there,” Aradia said. “At least, assuming they do truly wish you dead.”

Despite their reassurances that the enemy was not Demonic in nature, Aradia and Thrud both crossed themselves before stepping through the portal. Xena stepped through without ceremony.

Aradia and Thrud were standing back-to-back, watching their surroundings carefully. It was strangely quiet. None of the foundries were being worked, all the workers having gone home after a hard day's toil.

Xena assumed her pure carbon form in preparation for whatever may be coming.

Aradia spoke up. “Do you feel that?” She summoned a circular flat hologram, which rippled like a pool of water, shaken by some subaudible vibration. She pointed the hologram in a number of directions around the trio, until the vibrations spiked. “That way.”

She led them to a FursTech Foundry, where the vibrations were audible, a series of loud, steady clangs, the sound of metal being worked. “Well, they certainly have a sense of irony,” Thrud mused.

“They also have a sense of who I’d have gone to for help,” Xena Responded. She pushed through the unlocked door to the foundry, and made her way through the offices to the foundry floor, where the two Titans were at work. One of them was holding its hands over a large glowing-orange sword, heating it to be forged, and the other was hammering it with a massive golden hammer. As Xena silently approached them, they glanced in her direction, nearly rendering Xena paralyzed with fear. They finished their forging, the one who had been heating the sword hoisting it over it’s shoulder.

“Are you ready to join with us, little Salamander?” they both asked in unison, their hulking forms approaching her.

“I...” Xena stammered. Aradia and Thrud stepped out of the shadows behind the Titans. Aradia summoned a circle of seven glyphs in front of her, and each of them fired a laser of a different color at the Sword Titan. Thrud dashed up the Hammer Titan’s leg and back, and planted her golden sword cleanly in the back of it’s neck, before activating an ice spell. She ripped the now frost-coated blade out messily, jumping away, and landing next to Aradia. The Titans both cried out in anger, making a sound like the roar of a jet engine.

“Then you’ve come to die,” they both surmised. “Very well.” Their forms changed rapidly, going from soot and shadow, with burning interiors, to pure flame, surrounding a skeleton of ember bones. Their shape was more obvious in this form, showing that they were humanly proportioned, if a bit stocky, and their skulls were now obviously horned, with two thick bull-horns curving up and slightly forward.

Xena responded by matching their height. She grew her carbon skin thick, and allowed her inner flame to consume the rest of her, becoming an armor shell surrounding a being of fire. She threw the first punch, turning her fingers into long obsidian claws and swiping at the Titans’ skulls.

The Titans both parried with their weapons. Xena then focused on the Hammer Titan, and focused as much heat as she could into the weapon, trying to melt it. Aradia and Thrud, meanwhile tried to divert the attention of the Sword Titan. Thrud zipped around it’s ankles, and Aradia blasted it with various Cold, Light, and Water magics from a distance. After she saw Xena heating the metals glowing hot, Aradia shouted: “It’s Adamantium! Melting it won’t work, you’re just making it more dangerous for us!”

The Sword Titan brought it’s blade down powerfully on Thrud, who held her sword up to block and locked her body mechanically, her armor and limbs seizing into a solid interlocked frame. The swords clashed, and Thrud pushed a crater into the ground instead of being crushed outright. “This is the power of Adamantium,” she proclaimed. She summoned an upwelling of magic strength and pushed back the larger sword. “My body was destroyed by a Demon, but my sister summoned the aid of the angels to gift her the materials to rebuild me. Celestial Adamantium and Uru-mithril make me an unbreakable conduit for magic.”

“Stop talking and start fighting!” Xena roared. She attempted to tear the weapon from the Hammer Titan’s hands, but the Titan would not let go. The two quickly transitioned to wrestling, which threw their tangled forms against the walls of the foundry, and they fell through it to the outside.

The Sword Titan made to follow, but Aradia threw up a barrier preventing it from escaping from the magitech assault. It raged at the barrier, striking it with the sword ineffectually. Thrud climbed the wall nearest to it and leapt to try and stab at the burning skull, but as she did the Titan swung its sword directly at her. Thrud was sent flying through the foundry, crashing into the far wall. Aradia dropped the shield as she tried to cushion Thrud’s impact, allowing the Titan to join its other outside.

Xena had been dealing with the Hammer Titan, throwing it at the surrounding buildings, trying to entangle it in debris so she could try and wrest the Hammer from it. The Sword Titan rushed behind her, and cleaved a wide slash in her back. Xena roared and slashed back, allowing the Hammer Titan to gather itself and lift its hammer.

Aradia, rushing out of the Foundry, hit the Hammer Titan with a frost beam, blasting it’s hands and making it drop the hammer. Xena, turning and seeing the Hammer now free, quickly grabbed it, and tried to smash the Hammer Titan’s skull. The Hammer Titan rolled out of the way, but not fast enough that Xena would completely miss it, smashing it’s collarbone. 

The Hammer Titan howled, crawling towards the other, and the Other met it halfway, grabbing it’s hand. Their bones began to melt together, and they flowed into one another, becoming a blob of flame surrounding a swirling mass of bones. The bones melded together, and the new Titan started taking form, not quite twice as tall at the two had been separately, but lanky and slim in comparison. 

“YOU WILL BURN!” they cried. Almost effortlessly, they bent down and grabbed Xena in both hands, and overpowered her flame with their own. Xena resisted at first, hammering away at them, but quickly the pain became too much, causing her form to start to lose cohesion and be drawn into the Titan. She screamed, refusing to surrender. 

“SUBMIT TO OUR WILL, OR DIE!” 

Far below, Aradia continued blasting with ice and water, and Thrud lept up the sides of the buildings to try and reach weak areas of the Titan. 

Xena seethed for a moment, and then relaxed, allowing herself to be drawn into the Titan peacefully. Once her mind had been completely welcomed by the Titan’s two others, then she started fighting again. 

“I submit to no-one. You submit to me!” 

The Titan’s twin minds, not expecting to be turned against, were quickly restrained by Xena’s will, and fought her as she bottled them into a dark recess of her psyche. As she gained more and more control of her new body, she started dousing the flames, and condensing back to a normal human size. The Titans’ powers, instead of being bottled with the minds, were added to Xena’s own, giving her an immense rush as she accepted the quadruple in strength and control they offered.

The Hammer and Sword fell to the ground as the form grew too small to hold them, causing Aradia and Thrud to back away. They watched as the Titan shrunk to human size, flame swirling around it as it went out, and the form itself solidified. They approached cautiously, spell and sword at the ready, watching Xena wrestle the last bastions of the Titans into the pit in her mind.

Xena, kneeling on the concrete amidst the destroyed foundries, opened her eyes. She looked at her hands, seeing them the shade of brown that she had been born with. Her clothes wrapped snugly around her body, and everything she had had in her pockets was there once again. She noticed that there was suddenly an ice-cold sword pressed against her throat.

“Are you in control?” Thrud demanded from her.

“Why would I tell you if I wasn’t?” Xena answered.

“That sounds like her,” Aradia noted. She finished casting a spell, showing her the landscape of Xena’s mind: The roaring flame of Xena in control, and the two smoldering embers of the Titans wrapped in chains. She motioned to Thrud, and Thrud reluctantly removed the blade from Xena’s throat, sheathing it in the space behind her back.

“How do you feel?” Aradia asked.

Xena introspected for a moment. “Stronger than ever,” she eventually answered. “What was that you were saying about Adamantium earlier?” she asked, having a thought.

“Why?”

“What kind of power would be required to incorporate it into my shifting?”

“Immense.”

“I’ll give it a go then.” Xena stood up, walked over to the still-hot giant Adamantium sword, and pressed her hands against it. She utilized all her newfound power and poured as much heat as she could into the metal, scorching and cracking the ground around her before finally the metal succumbed and started flowing freely from the puddles under her hands. She quickly scooped it up, and absorbed it into her skin. Keeping it heated within herself, she used her shapeshifting to create a mold inside her, directed the Adamantium into the mold, and then sucked the heat from it.

When she was done, she carefully pushed the molded Adamantium out through the skin between her knuckles, in three long blades.

“How original,” Aradia dryly noted.

Xena absorbed another thick glob of Adamantium, and remelted the stock she already had. She moved it throughout her whole body, storing all of it in her bones, having just enough of it to replace her entire skeleton. “I’ll keep working on the possible applications of this metal. But for now, Thank you, Aradia. And thanks to you as well, Thrud. Would you mind dropping me off back at the Academy?”

“It would be no trouble.” She summoned one last portal, opening to Xena’s office at the Astra Academy. “Tell Alice I said hello.”

Xena stepped through the portal, and it shut behind her, leaving Aradia and Thrud standing amoung the rubble of the fight.

“This would have to be at least a half million worth of damage she’s caused here,” Thrud said, adding it to a mental tab of damages caused by her allies in fights.

“I can take the hit to the company funds. It’s well worth the safety this grants the citizens of the city, and the world, with a good woman being empowered by that much.”

[bakurabrandferal]

Here’s a fun drinking game for you guys: take a shot for every place I apply to and never hear back from

just kidding you’ll get alcohol poisoning if you do that

[qubemoney-blog]

HOW QUBE MONEY WILL HELP FAMILIES BUDGET

Are you looking for a great family budget app?

The moment you have kids is the moment that money gains a new significance. It goes from being a tool you can use to make your dreams and aspirations come true, to a tool you use to protect your family and give them opportunities to live their best lives. All of a sudden, it’s not about you anymore.

It’s scary to go from only having to take care of yourselves to knowing your financial decisions will impact your little ones.

The truth is that saving money today is harder than at another time in the past several decades. College tuition prices have outpaced wage increases by nearly 1,000 percent since I was born. This means that parents around the country are scared. They are afraid that they are under-saving. They are worried that they aren’t setting their family up for financial success. And all of this was already happening well before the Coronavirus pandemic wreaked havoc on the global economy.

If you are reading this, then the chances are that you know you need to make a change to turn things around or at least get a nudge to help you reach your financial goals. Thankfully, this is precisely what Qube Money can do for your family.

QUBE MONEY HELPS FAMILIES BUDGET BETTER

Today I am going to walk you through what Qube Money is, how it’s perfect for families, and why it works. But first, let’s understand why budgeting is essential and how it has evolved!

Take a step back for a second and picture yourself in a gorgeous industrial kitchen. You’re there with your family and you all given one task to accomplish: you each need to bake a single loaf of bread. All of the ingredients and materials you will need are laid out in front of you. If you succeed, your prize is that your family will always have financial security.

The catch is that you need to decide upfront if you want to be given a recipe with detailed instructions or not. It seems like a no brainer. With the recipe, you’ll all be able to make the perfect loaf. You’ll know the exact quantities of ingredients that you’ll need and the steps you’ll have to follow.

If you don’t request the recipe, will it still be possible for all of you to make a delicious loaf of bread? Of course. In fact, if you are able to succeed without it, you might even impress a few people with your collective baking skills. But if you fail, your family won’t have that financial security.

So do you want to use the recipe or not?

In many ways, a budget is like a recipe. It serves as a blueprint to help you reach your financial goals. Is it possible to reach your financial goals without a budget? Sure! Just like it’s possible to make a loaf of bread without a recipe, but the chances are much higher that you won’t succeed without one.

THE EVOLUTION OF FAMILY BUDGETING

Most budgets are created with an individual in mind. They are created to help a single person control their spending and help them allocate their money. However, the reality is that in a family, there could be multiple individuals earning money, and several people spending money.

This means that most budgets are not adequately supporting modern families.

If you ask your parents or grandparents how they budgeted, they’ll probably say, “We just spent less money than we made.” If you dig a little deeper, you’ll realize that they likely used a variant of a cash-based budget.

Before the days of credit cards, it was common practice to always carry cash everywhere. This actually made budgeting very easy because you would cash your paycheck and set aside money for savings. Everything else was used for bills and other expenses. Once that cash ran out, there was no way to spend any more money.

Before long, families had a nice amount of money saved up.

This system was so effective that some people still use it today. It’s called the ‘cash envelope method’ of budgeting.

WHAT IS THE CASH ENVELOPE METHOD?

The cash envelope method is a tried and tested way of budgeting using cash.

The way it works is that you get several letter-sized envelopes, and you write your spending categories on them. Think of traditional budgeting categories like groceries, restaurants, utilities, clothing, gas, gym memberships, insurance, medical expenses, etc.

At the beginning of the month (or when you get paid), you’ll plan out how you will spend your money, and you’ll stuff the appropriate amount in each envelope.

Related: What is the Cash Envelope System?

Once the money runs out, there’s nothing left to spend — no credit cards to get you into trouble.

Cash works because it creates spending friction. This means it makes it harder to spend money impulsively since you’ll see the name of the category when you open the envelope. It also prevents you from going further into debt.

In many ways, it’s the most extreme form of budgeting and is extremely helpful for someone trying to break destructive financial habits.

However, for most people, paying for everything in cash is just not realistic. For one thing, it makes it extremely difficult to track your transactions to see how your money was spent. Cash has a funny way of simply disappearing. This is especially true when you are talking about a family with several spenders.

QUBE MONEY IS THE MODERN ALTERNATIVE TO CASH ENVELOPES

Let’s face it; it’s impossible to thrive in modern society if you only use cash. No bank will accept a stack of money as a mortgage payment. You can’t make your car payments or medical bill payments in cash.

This means that everyone using the cash envelope method has to use a hybrid of cash and a debit card, which gets very messy and confusing. Frankly, it’s also not safe to walk around carrying cash everywhere. Do you really want your loved ones to always be carrying around that much cash? I don’t either.

Related: 10 Downsides to Using Cash

Most importantly, it’s just not sustainable. At the end of the day, if your budget system isn’t easy to use, then you aren’t going to use it. And a budget that isn’t adhered to 100% of the time is ineffective 100% of the time. It’s the same principle that applies to fitness. Ask any health expert which type of exercise is the most beneficial for your health and you’ll always get the same answer: whatever exercise you’ll actually stick to.

Qube Money was built with this understanding. Qube Money removes the necessity of having to use cash while maintaining ALL of the benefits.

HOW DOES QUBE MONEY WORK

Qube Money replaces those stodgy paper envelopes with modern technology delivered via a mobile family budget app and plastic cards your family will use to spend. In fact, you’ll quickly realize that the system acts more like a banking system than a typical budgeting app.

In Qube Money, you will create “Qubes” that function precisely the way cash envelopes do. Each Qube will represent a spending category. You determine how much money will be loaded into each Qube. To spend, you’ll use the app to open a Qube manually, or your Qube Card won’t work.

By forcing you to open the Qube in the app before spending, Qube forces you to reflect and evaluate your priorities before spending quickly. In a sense, the bank is the budget and vice versa!

With Qube Money, each dollar has a purpose and goal. You are in total control of your money and your spending.

Qubes aren’t only for spending either. You can use them to save for future goals (vacations, cars, special occasions, etc.). This means all of your daily money-management takes place in a single place. No more logging in and out of accounts to check balances.

QUBE MONEY IS THE PERFECT FAMILY BUDGET APP

No other budget system was built with families at the core of the budget experience. This is what makes it such a great family budget app.

Qube Money was built and run by a team of parents who know and understand the importance of savvy financial management for families.

So what are some features that make Qube Money so unique and perfect for families?

For the first time, parents and children can spend, learn, and share money together. Positive money conversations happen in everyday living. Real-life—the ultimate personal finance education.

In order to keep the whole family engaged and interested in the budget, Qube has created Kid Cards. These are special spend cards which you can authorize for spending. They are perfect for grandparents, nannies, and babysitters too.

If your kids are old enough to do chores, the app includes the ability to track chores, jobs, hours and payments all in one place. This means your child can have a virtual “bank account” so that they can learn the basics of saving their money. Kids LOVE this.

Kids can also request money in the app, which means you can track it and see how much you are giving them, and how it is being spent. As a parent, you will also have the ability to set permissions.  Since you approve every transaction, you can let kids purchase whatever they want, help them save for the future, or somewhere in between. You choose. This is peace of mind you won’t have without Qube Money.

BUILT WITH FAMILIES AND CONVENIENCE IN MIND

It’s clear that Qube Money is unrivaled when it comes to the best family budget app, but the best part is that it works. Here’s what one long-time customer had to say about their experience: “I have been using this app for about a year now. Was on the pilot program as well.  Overall this is such an awesome idea and it’s helped our family budget so much easier. We tried Dave Ramsey’s way using cash but that never worked. Try it out. You won’t be disappointed. We could never actually stick to a budget until this .”

To learn more about why Qube Money is the best family budget app, visit our family site!

[louiscoleus]

Marketing During the Pandemic: A Critical Pivot to Your Strategy

We are here to help show you that strategic marketing during the pandemic is still possible.

These are unprecedented times. Our world is in crisis, and our country is on lockdown. With many losing work or being forced to work remotely, individuals and businesses are struggling. Many companies are putting operations on hold and hiring freezes in place, and some can’t even keep the doors open.

Here at Farotech, we’ve been busy reaching out to our clients to get a temperature check on how everyone is doing. Fortunately for us, we’ve been a semi-virtual company for the last 19 years, so we’re used to working remotely and conducting business online. We got on our feet very quickly when all this hit. But many of our clients don’t have that luxury.

While we’re checking in on them, they constantly ask this question:

What is the number one thing that we should be doing for our marketing during this pandemic?

Many of our clients have been desperately trying to get any possible leads or sales right now. It makes sense when you consider everyone is just trying to mitigate loss and keep cashflow up. And, if that approach is working for your company, then carry on. However, for most industries during this time, hunting down new business is practically a lost cause. We’d warn against spending your time and money on that approach.

However, there is a way to maximize the opportunity you do have during this coronavirus pandemic. Business slowing down is certainly a challenge, but it doesn’t have to be a total loss. We are here to show you how to make the most of marketing during a pandemic.

The Number One Thing You Should Do for Your Marketing During Quarantine

(And the number one regret you will have if you don’t)

Our answer is not to go hunting for new business if it’s already obvious that you’re not going to succeed. Instead, the number one thing that you should do right now: stockpile content from subject matter experts. Select and create content that can be SEO optimized and used in various forms as long-term marketing assets.

You see, we have been deploying digital marketing strategies for our clients for nearly 20 years. In that process, we’ve seen firsthand how content development is a critical piece to establishing credibility as a thought leader within any given company’s industry.

Not only that, but content is also critical to ranking on the first page of Google, Yahoo, and Bing. Ironically, the top challenge that every marketing company faces (or rather, a good company that truly considers themselves a “partner”) is getting critical information from their clients’ subject matter experts (SMEs).

The Challenge and the Opportunity with SMEs

Because they are SMEs, they are often considered critical staff members. And, because they are critical, their time is invaluable. They are busy doing their specific jobs—the ones only they can do—and doing them really well. It makes sense, then, that marketing initiatives that require the time/knowledge of SMEs, get pushed to the bottom of the list.

We know this pain firsthand. When we launch an inbound marketing campaign for a new client, everyone is really excited and ready to roll.

Expectations and motivation are high!

The plan is laid out.

The various pieces of the marketing system start moving.

And then…a dead halt.

Everything is backed up because that all-important, subject-specific content we need is lodged inside the brain of someone who doesn’t have the time to eat lunch, let alone to chat with the marketing people about developing great, niche content. And we can’t blame them. They’re experts, which is exactly why their time is at a premium.

Here’s what’s so unique about our current situation, as difficult as it is. This COVID-19 pandemic has sent everyone into quarantine and put most businesses on long-term hold. We’ve found ourselves in a unique scenario where the SMEs are out of their usual routines and in some cases, unable to do all the tasks they normally would be doing.

Everyone is still busy, but they’re busy in different ways. With the uniqueness of the situation, this may be the only time in their career that SMEs even have the opportunity to think about spending their time on something different than the usual grind.

In light of this rare opportunity, what should your company do?

Make a strategic pivot in your marketing.

How? Ask your SMEs to consider prioritizing something that often gets pushed to the bottom of the list: stockpiling high-level content (we like to call it “marketing gold”) as an investment in your company’s future.

Gathering the content is step one, but what you do with it after you have it is just as important as the initiative itself. That’s why in the remainder of this blog outlines a step-by-step guide to answer the following questions:

How should I determine what kind of content to collect?

What format should I use to produce/publish the content?

Where should I put it once it’s ready?

How do I do all this without breaking the bank since we’re on a spending freeze?

What can be done after this pandemic to maximize the results of the content that we create?

Step by Step: A Detailed Guide to Marketing During the Pandemic

Step 1: Identify critical questions to answer and start creating videos!

Your team needs to do a massive brainstorm and come up with the top 50 to 100 questions that you hear most commonly from your prospects or even from your current clients. Once you have your list, think through which SMEs in your company would do the best job answering each particular question.

The goal will be to have the answer to each question explained in it’s own, unique video. This requires some administrative heavy lifting, but don’t worry! We have some recommendations for awesome platforms that can make this a breeze for you.

Use a program like StreamYard ($20/month) to tag your subject matter experts. Assign one SME to each question to produce individual “assignments.” These tasks will then be used to create the video content to explain the answer to that specific question.

Each question should be its own video. StreamYard’s video tool will allow you to present yourself on the screen while also showing a PowerPoint or slide deck. The best part about StreamYard is that your presentations can be broadcasted live to three social media platforms:

Facebook Live

Youtube Live

Linkedin

You can also create videos like this using a Wistia product called Soapbox ($99/month). What we love about Soapbox is that although it is not recorded live, it allows you to do really high-level post-production without much technical knowledge.

In fact, your videos take only a few minutes to build in post-production! You get all of this without expensive equipment or having to employ a video editing professional. It also seamlessly connects to your Wistia account so you get the maximum functionality, aesthetics and analytics that video hosting has to offer.

Lastly, if you decide you want extra help with editing and decide to go with Soapbox, we recommend that you use it in conjunction with a streaming service. You can still import your finished videos to a program like Restream, which will syndicate them to a wide variety of social media platforms.

Your video will then show live in its post-production form. You can get started with a free plan, or if you want to stream to more platforms or get extra features, paid plans start at $16/month.

Stay up to date with the latest digital marketing news. Like us on Facebook!

Step 2: Maximize your videos by creating text versions, and publish all your new content in all the right places.

Making double use of all this amazing, high level, subject-specific content is as simple as creating transcriptions of all your new video content. Now, for every video your SMEs have created, you also have the written content to produce a blog, which will serve you well for long-term search engine positioning.

Submit your video to Rev.com. This service will take your video audio and quickly convert it to text. You can stream there for $1.25 per minute. To transcribe a five-minute video would cost $6.25. Not bad, considering the residual benefit of your website having this content published in written format too.

Note: We do recommend spending a little time editing the transcription to make sure that it’s in an easily readable format for your website visitors. You may have to make a few changes because no transcription is 100% perfect. But once you’ve given it a look-through, you’ll be all set!

Now, it’s time to take the next step and create your company’s own podcast (if you don’t have one already). This may sound like an intimidating prospect, but remember that it’s a one-time task that will have long term benefits. Plus, you can use Buzzsprout ($12/mo) or Libsyn ($5/mo) to get started and also to take care of all your syndicating.

Even if nobody listens to your podcasts, Google still commonly gives an increase in SEO juice if you syndicate your podcasts. When they’re hosted by high authority sites (like the ones listed below), the backlink that’s generated from them to your own website is worth the effort.

These high domain authority sites provide backlinks to your site, helping you improve your rankings.

Buzzsprout will distribute your podcast to:

Apple Podcasts

Spotify

Google Podcasts

Stitcher

iHeart Radio

TuneIn

Alexa

Overcast

PocketCasts

Castro

Castbox

Podchaser

Libsyn will get your podcast on:

Last, you need to apply both your video and your written content to your own website. This may sound like a no brainer, but you wouldn’t believe how many companies have amazing content at their fingertips and never publish it to their own site. This is critical if you want to have potential sales targets find you on Google, Yahoo and Bing. You can see in the following example where we applied the video above the fold, and the corresponding blog content (created via transcription on Rev.com) just below:

NOTE: When the crisis is over, and your organization has money to invest in marketing, this content should be sent to a professional marketing agency that has talented SEO writers that can turn this content into SEO gold.

Step 3: Develop a Knowledge Base on your website.

Besides putting quality content on your website and blog pages, there is one other critical place where you can put all SME-generated content on your website.

We recommend developing a Knowledge Base.

A Knowledge Base is an interactive component built into your website where customers can go to access all the answers to their questions about your company, policies, and most importantly, products and services. It is a platform that includes a collection of questions, answers, articles, guides, and you guessed it—videos— that are viewable to users by simply typing a few words or common questions into a search bar. Think of it like a searchable FAQs page on steroids.

If you are a well-established company that has a client base that would benefit from your thought leadership, we highly recommend that you create a knowledge base. There are several companies that offer knowledge-base platforms. We’ll discuss our two favorites below.

Hubspot’s knowledge base platform allows users to type in questions and refine searches based upon product, type of resource, topic, etc. High-level tagging options allow users to get information quickly and simply. When talking about any kind of content development, we always emphasize the importance of QWASI (questions with answers in simple information), and Hubspot’s knowledge base format definitely uses this principle.

Zendesk’s Guide is arguably the most established Knowledge Base Platforms in the world. It offers many of the same features as Hubspot and also has a ton of third party integrations at a much lower price point. It’s built to help you and your team continuously improve your content, keep it up to date, and make it accessible to customers.

The Result: Making the Most of Your Marketing During the Crisis

While this is certainly a tough time for the world, it could be an incredible opportunity for your company. Don’t waste this chance to invest in your SEO, social media, video, lead nurturing, and content strategy all at the same time with this strategic approach. And when this content ranks, it will be like an annuity that pays off for months—even years—to come!

And don’t make the assumption that your competition is also doing this. As straight-forward as this strategy is, most companies will not be disciplined enough to do it. You’d be surprised how buckling down now could really allow you to leapfrog over your competitors in the long run.

As a recap, here’s what we’re looking to accomplish:

The main goal in all of this is to generate as much quality content from subject matter experts as possible.

Next, you want to systematically push that content through social media, podcasts, your own site blog, and a knowledge base.

Once things return to normal, we suggest handing the content to a marketing agency that knows how to edit it for SEO purposes and help you create a paid social media and paid ads plan to further promote your content.

Ultimately, the objective is to take your website from an online brochure and turn it into a utility that will educate your potential customers, while at the same time cementing you as a thought leader in your industry.

We realize that there is a lot of information here. We tried to make this blog as user-friendly as possible, and as the crisis continues, we plan to add to it. If you have any questions about this process, or what your next steps should be to implement this approach, please don’t hesitate to contact us to discuss your marketing efforts.

Like you, we’re stuck in our homes, but our team is busy at work helping companies like yours make the most of this time by using the opportunity to do some strategic marketing during the pandemic.

The post Marketing During the Pandemic: A Critical Pivot to Your Strategy appeared first on Farotech.

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