#hard money loans arizona

[hiltonloans01]

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[random-thought-depository]

""Moreover, it turns out that the United States is not all that tightfisted when it comes to social spending. “If you count all public benefits offered by the federal government, America’s welfare state (as a share of its gross domestic product) is the second biggest in the world, after France’s,” Desmond tells us. Why doesn’t this largesse accomplish more?

For one thing, it unduly assists the affluent. That statistic about the U.S. spending almost as much as France on social welfare, he explains, is accurate only “if you include things like government-subsidized retirement benefits provided by employers, student loans and 529 college savings plans, child tax credits, and homeowner subsidies: benefits disproportionately flowing to Americans well above the poverty line.” To enjoy most of these, you need to have a well-paying job, a home that you own, and probably an accountant (and, if you’re really in clover, a money manager).

“The American government gives the most help to those who need it least,” Desmond argues. “This is the true nature of our welfare state, and it has far-reaching implications, not only for our bank accounts and poverty levels, but also for our psychology and civic spirit.” Americans who benefit from social spending in the form of, say, a mortgage-interest tax deduction don’t see themselves as recipients of governmental generosity. The boon it offers them may be as hard for them to recognize and acknowledge as the persistence of poverty once was to Harrington’s suburban housewives and professional men. These Americans may be anti-government and vote that way. They may picture other people, poor people, as weak and dependent and themselves as hardworking and upstanding. Desmond allows that one reason for this is that tax breaks don’t feel the same as direct payments. Although they may amount to the same thing for household incomes and for the federal budget—“You can benefit a family by lowering its tax burden or by increasing its benefits, same difference”—they are associated with an obligation and a procedure that Americans, in particular, find onerous. Tax-cutting Republican lawmakers want the process to be both difficult and Swiss-cheesed with loopholes. (“Taxes should hurt,” Ronald Reagan once said.) But that’s not the only reason. What Desmond calls the “rudest explanation” is that if, for whatever reason, we get a tax break, most of us like it. That’s the case for people affluent and lucky enough to take advantage of the legitimate breaks designed for their benefit, and for the wily super-rich who game the system with expensive lawyering and ingenious use of tax shelters.

And there are other ways, Desmond points out, that government help gets thwarted or misdirected. When President Clinton instituted welfare reform, in 1996, pledging to “transform a broken system that traps too many people in a cycle of dependence,” an older model, Aid to Families with Dependent Children, or A.F.D.C., was replaced by Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or TANF. Where most funds administered by A.F.D.C. went straight to families in the form of cash aid, TANF gave grants to states with the added directive to promote two-parent families and discourage out-of-wedlock childbirth, and let the states fund programs to achieve those goals as they saw fit. As a result, “states have come up with rather creative ways to spend TANF dollars,” Desmond writes. “Nationwide, for every dollar budgeted for TANF in 2020, poor families directly received just 22 cents. Only Kentucky and the District of Columbia spent over half of their TANF funds on basic cash assistance.” Between 1999 and 2016, Oklahoma directed more than seventy million dollars toward initiatives to promote marriage, offering couples counselling and workshops that were mostly open to people of all income levels. Arizona used some of the funds to pay for abstinence education; Pennsylvania gave some of its TANF money to anti-abortion programs. Mississippi treated its TANF funds as an unexpected Christmas present, hiring a Christian-rock singer to perform at concerts, for instance, and a former professional wrestler—the author of an autobiography titled “Every Man Has His Price”—to deliver inspirational speeches. (Much of this was revealed by assiduous investigative reporters, and by a 2020 audit of Mississippi’s Department of Human Services.) Moreover, because states don’t have to spend all their TANF funds each year, many carry over big sums. In 2020, Tennessee, which has one of the highest child-poverty rates in the nation, left seven hundred and ninety million dollars in TANF funds unspent."

- The New Yorker: "How America Manufactures Poverty" by Margaret Talbot (review of Matthew Desmond's Poverty by America).

[chrisbitchtree]

Today’s the day. Billy’s finally going to use the key Steve gave him. The one that’s been hanging on the novelty keychain Max brought him back from her trip to Arizona with her father last summer, unused despite Steve’s insistence that Billy go over and make himself comfortable, swim in the pool, have a glass of wine, use the ugly leather massage chair in the garage on the evenings Steve works late.

He knows it would make Steve happy if Billy does as he’s asked, but Billy doesn’t want to appear too eager to take advantage of what Steve’s offering. There are a lot of strings attached to dating an older guy, one with money, a lot of it, and Billy doesn’t want to get tied up in them and trip, so he usually lets Steve pick him up outside the fourth floor walk up he shares with his buddy Argyle or meets Steve at whatever bougie ass restaurant he’s chosen for the evening.

This afternoon though, he’s sore and tired after a morning spent working on cars in the garage he works at and closer to Steve’s place than his own after a meeting with the bank to discuss a loan for the auto repair shop he and Argyle are planning to open once they find the perfect location.

He calls Steve at his fancy downtown office to notify him of his plan, the smile in his voice coming through loud and clear as he thanks Billy for finally taking him up on this.

“I’m so glad, baby. You work so hard. You deserve to pamper yourself every once in a while. Maybe we can order in tonight and have a relaxing evening together.”

Billy wouldn’t exactly say that Steve bending him over the side of the ouch or over the kitchen counter and fucking him within an inch of his life is going to be relaxing, but it’ll sure feel good to have Steve pressed up against him, murmuring about how well he’s taking it and what a good boy he is, making Billy’s toes curl as he nails his prostate and tugs on his hair, sucking dark purple marks where his shoulder meets his neck.

Billy’s smile stretches wide as Argyle drops him off outside Steve’s home, whistling low as he takes in the grandeur of the expansive property. Billy will have to convince Steve to have a pool party sometime so Argyle and their other friends can take it all in.

He thanks Argyle and waves good bye, entering the security code at the gate and watching as they swing open to grant him access to this alternate reality he’s been floating in since he met Steve at a club five months ago when he’d complimented Steve’s dance moves and the other man had offered to buy him a drink, which had turned into two, then three, both Billy and Steve wandering away from their friends to a table for two before ending the night spooning, naked and sweaty in Steve’s king sized bed.

He silently notes, as he always does, how big and empty the house is. He’d questioned Steve on why he’d bought such a big home instead of a luxury apartment one of the first times Steve had him over, and Steve had told Billy about his childhood, spent with a series of nannies while his parents travelled for work.

Steve didn’t want that for himself. He wanted a big family, at least six kids, running around and filling his home with noise and life.

He’d also told Billy that he he wanted that with Billy, and that he’ll wait while Billy made his way in the world and establishes himself as a business owner, but Steve’s thirty five and knows what he wants someday. It’s something Billy wants too, a big family to love and care for, and he can’t believe he’s going to get to have it with Steve.

He’s had friends ask if he feels like he’s just another possession to Steve, a piece of ass to show off at parties and events, but that’s not the case at all. He knows that he and Steve are very different people living very different lives, but Steve’s never been anything other than interested in Billy’s career plan and goals, never looking down on him for wanting to open a garage and work on cars. It can feel scary at times, falling for someone so fast, especially since Billy’s only twenty four, but it just feels right. He knows they’ll have an amazing life together.

His first order of business is to pour himself a large glass of wine to drink while he takes a hot shower in the rainfall shower in Steve’s ensuite bathroom. The first time he’d been in there, he’d joked that the only thing that would improve the experience would be a wineglass holder. It was an offhand comment, but the next time he was there, he noticed that Steve had had two installed near the door.

He places his glass in one of them now before starting the water up, letting it get nice and hot while he grabs a thick, fluffy towel and the plush cream bathrobe Steve gifted him with a few weeks ago.

He takes a big sip from his glass of red, savouring the taste, miles away from the two buck chuck he and Argyle favoured at home. He’d brought Steve a bottle when the other man had argued that there was no way something that cheap could be good.

Steve hadn’t given in, insisting that it was subpar at best, but Billy had noticed more bottles of it finding a home next to Steve’s expensive collection of vintages. It was fun to see his world make its way into Steve’s, a little bit at a time.

Taking a second sip, he stands under the hot spray, letting it fall on his shoulders and loosen the muscles tensed and tightened from a hard day’s work.

Feeling relaxed from the water and the wine, he washes up, then dries himself off and wraps himself in the robe before falling into Steve’s bed for a nap. Cocooned in Egyptian cotton sheets and a heavy duvet, keeping him warm under the air conditioning pumping through the vents. Setting his alarm for an hour, he closes his eyes.

Feeling refreshed after his nap, he wakes to a text from Steve telling him that he should be home at about 6:30. It’s 5:45 now. He has a bit of time, so he formulates a plan.

Standing up, he stretches, then opens the drawer where Steve keeps the sex toys, and pulls out the lube and a medium sized plug. It’s nowhere as big as Steve, but it’ll save them some work when Steve arrives, allowing them to get to the main event quicker.

He squeezes some lube out, warming it on his fingers before reaching around himself and teasing his hole before slipping a finger in. He moans quietly, pretending it’s Steve’s long fingers instead of his own. He works himself up to three before sliding the plug into place.

He heads back to the kitchen and pours himself another glass of wine before walking through the French doors that lead to the pool.

He sets his glass of wine on the pool deck and arranges himself on a lounger, ass up and on display for Steve to feast on when he arrives. Checking his phone, he sees that it’s 6:15. It won’t be long now.

Crossing his arms under his head, he closes his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun soak into his skin as he waits. He’s starting to doze, fading in and out, when he hears a voice. For a quick second, he gets excited that Steve’s arrived early, but then he registers the fact that it’s a woman and what she’s saying.

He stands abruptly, knocking his wine glass over as she starts to shout.

“Steven, there’s a man, a naked man on your deck. Who is he? Are you aware that he’s there?”

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

He stands abruptly, knocking his wine glass over as she starts to shout.

“Steven, there’s a man, a naked man on your deck. Who is he? Are you aware that he’s there?”

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

[staygoldsquatchling02]

advice

so, this is going to be a long post and pretty venty, if you have advice its appreciated but i just need to get this of my chest. To make a long story short really quick before I get into it, i think I'm close to cutting off my best friend of two years. If you want to know more keep reading.

In July of 2021 my parents and I decided to move away from our family in Oregon to live with my mom's best friend at the time in Nevada. For the most part it was because we needed a change of scenery and have always gravitated towards the desert having spent a few years in Arizona. The only people we knew at the time here were my mom's best friend, his 24-year-old son, and his mom. we moved in with them so we could get settled and then start looking for a place.

Living with them was hell, my mom's ex best friend was a drunk who treated everyone like trap and didn't have a job, his mom had like twenty cats and the house smelled like cat piss. The drunk spent all his money on booze instead of paying rent including money my family had given him for rent. I had even taken out a payday loan so we wouldn't get kicked out right before Christmas 2021. He was also a narcist and tried to assault my mother multiple times when my father was at work. It sucked to live with them, but I'll come back to it later.

back to friend problem. From the time we got to Nevada, I was looking for work, I finally got a job at the beginning of Augst, and I started working quickly glad to be away from the drunk. Shortly after starting work I met a new employee who was the first person i have met here my age. I introduced myself and started a friendship. We would talk all the time at work, and she was the first person at the job to know I was trans and accept me. (I was out before I just was scared to come out at new job because I didn't know how people would react)

For a while she was just a work friend and then I invited her to go see the Jujutsu Kaisen movie because I had seen it once loved it and thought she would like it. She loved it and started to really get into anime. We also started to hang out outside of work. Going to movies and the mall, just being normal 19-year-olds.

Fast forward to June of 2022, and the drunk I mentioned before had gotten evicted from the house we were staying in. I had to leave work an hour into my shift to help get my important things out of the house right away. My parents, the drunk and I spent the whole day trying to find a hotel to stay in with five dogs, and two cats. When we finally found one, I had to take out another payday loan to pay for it. After two days in the hotel, we had to condense from two rooms to just one. We had to surrender two of our dogs because they didn't get along with the drunks two dogs and that hurt a lot. But me not liking the drunk at all asked my friend if I could stay with her for a bit while we got back on our feet.

She agreed and so I moved into her spare bedroom. Now i wasn't staying there and just leaching off of her I was helping as much as I could. I was buying gas and sending her money every payday to help pay for things. I even door dashed food most nights because with our work schedule it was hard to make food at home. But she wasn't the only one I was helping, I had my own car payment and phone bill to pay so I was paying every month, and I was also giving my parents money for gas and food, because my dad had lost his job and was struggling picking up work.

When I was living with her, she had made multiple comments about how i shouldn't be supporting my parents and how they just needed to suck it up and find jobs. Mind you my mom had just broken her back, not bad enough to paralyze her but still broke her back, she also has preexisting medical conditions that make so she can't work and was in the middle of filling for social security disability. and my dad was helping her and was trying to find work.

there were other things she did that pissed me off, like if she had decided to order food for dinner, she expected me to pay her for my part even though i never made her pay me for buying her food. she would get upset with me if i forgot to close a door in the apartment, not the front door just any door, like to a bedroom or the bathroom.

eventually the things at the hotel with the drunk got really bad. My dad had accepted a job from one of his friends to drive them to Mexico and unfortunately my mom couldn't go because she lost her social security card and so she wouldn't have been able to cross back to the u.s so she stayed at the hotel with the drunk. On the second day my dad was gone I got a call from my mom at like 10pm saying that the drunk had tried to sa her and she was now spending the night sitting outside. she had called my dad and unfortunately, he was in Mexico and couldn't leave till his friends got paid and so he had to spend the night worrying for her. My uncle back in Oregon sent my mom the money for a hotel room so she was safe for the night but that was the final straw for them. When my dad got back the next day having driven straight through not stopping except for gas and food, my parents decided that they were going to drive to Oklahoma because my dad's family has land out there. They asked if I wanted to go but at the time, I just wanted to stay in Nevada where i had a job and was safe being me, knowing that my family in Oklahoma was not friendly towards the lgbtq.

My parents left like two days later and i had a mental break down. It hurt a lot for my parents to be so far away from me. I was raised as family is number one and by not going with them in my head i was abandoning them and vice versa. I was alone, none of my family was even in the same state as me, sure i had my roommate and coworkers to talk to but you have a different connection to family.

About a week after my parents left for Oklahoma, they called to tell me that Oklahoma wasn't going to work because there was no house on the land it was just a field, and they would have to get a mobile home to live there. With the realization it wasn't going to work the decided to go back to Oregon and live with my mom's mom and brother. They asked if I wanted them to come back through Nevada and pick me up on the way there but again, I thought I was better staying with my friend. I told them no and they went back to Oregon without me. This all happened around the middle of August, and I thought i was making the right choices.

When the end of September, the separation anxiety from my parents was becoming too much to deal with and I was struggling in every sense of the word. My job had gone to shit, my managers where fired and they had been like an extra pair of parents to me, one of my coworkers who I also as like a parent or weird uncle was treating me like trash, and money stress was coming up more often with the friend I was staying with because I was still helping my parents with money. So when my parents called again asking if I wanted to go back to Oregon I actually thought about it.

I had told them i had to think about it and talk to my friend about it because I didn't want to just leave her hanging like that, we had been talking about maybe getting a cheaper apartment together. When i told my friend about it she told that i was going to do what i thought was best, but she thought it was dumb. she told me I was only thinking about it because it's my family. She was right in the fact i was thinking about making my family happy, but I was also trying to make a choice that would make her happy.

Eventually I decided it was best for me to go home. I would have my family, and I would be able to see some of my friends from high school as opposed to only having the one friend. the only thing is I had told my parents not to come get me until the end of October. I did this because back in august I purchased tickets to see Panic at the disco with my friend, because they were one of our favorite bands and it would be a once in a lifetime thing. I didn't want to cancel that; it was her first concert and I wanted to experience it with her. I had them wait until the week after the concert to come get me. In the month between my choice and me going home, me and my friend did so much together. We went to rein fair, we went to a Japanese steak house, hell we even went to the only 18+ strip club in Nevada just to say we went. we had fun but we still had tension because i was leaving.

When i left she made me promise to call all the time and text all the time which I did. I tried to make it so at least once a week we spent the whole day on discord playing video games or watching anime. I tried to make it like nothing changed even if we were 800 miles apart. I didn't even realize at the time that I was making all the first moves, i was the one sending the first text I was the one asking if she wanted to do something. looking back at this situation now I'm realizing it wasn't a healthy time but more on that later.

Around a week before Christmas, i had gone out with my friends from high school and had a great time, we had lunch and i bought them each a present for having been good friends through a lot of shit i dealt with in high school. I thought we had a great time, only to find out when i got home they had blocked me on everything. my closest friends from the last six years had cut me off like i meant nothing to them. looking for support and comfort i told my only other friend, the one in Nevada. she acted like she cared that i was broken from it, but she also made comments about how if i had just stayed with her it wouldn't have hurt as bad when they blocked me, that i wouldn't have cared if i was still in Nevada. I agreed with her, but looking back now she was gaslighting me.

Fast forward to the end of January and my grandmother's health is dropping and the apartment we are all staying in is trying to find any reason to kick us out. We talked as a family and decided that it would be best for my grandmother to move to Nevada where there is a better healthcare network, and it would also benefit my mom's health. I was excited to tell, my friend i was coming back and how we could do all the things we talked about doing before, like going to pride, and going to movies again. But when I did finally call and tell her I didn't receive quite the response I was hoping for. here's a brief summary of how it went from her. "Cool I'm glad you're coming back but, what's your plan, are you getting place before you get here, are you looking for work, are you going to live with your family or are you going to live with me. if you live with me know that you can't change your mind in a month." And just a constant stream of questions. I understand that it was valid to ask but then she followed up saying it was dumb to have moved back to Oregon if i was just going to go back in a few months. She was discrediting every response i gave with "well what if your family messes up again, i can't have you move back in with me if you guys do get kicked out." it was like she is expecting my family to fail.

It only got worse when I finally got back. We got a house here in Nevada in March and packed all our stuff and came down. After about a week of being back I had fallen back to old routines of going to hang out with her all the time. I was spending every weekend at her place because I was stressed out at home. My grandma had gotten into town and was immediately taken to the hospital and even now five months later she has spent more time in the hospital than time at home, but that's beside the point. Everyone in my family was stressed the first two months because it was taking a bit of time for me to find work. Spending all my time with my friend had resulted in us coming up with the plan of getting an apartment together because my mental health was crashing living with my family.

We decided that we wanted to find a place by the end of July because that was when my friends current lease would be up. I had found a part time job at the beginning of June and was naive enough to think that it would be enough. so throughout the month of June we looked at places, I thought it was going to work out. I was wrong. As it got closer to July, I realized I wasn't going to have any money to put towards a place, the housing market is shit and a part time job was not enough to even think about getting a place. I had also started taking my adhd medication again that i had been off of for about six months. With my mental state evening out I figured out that moving out was impulsive and not the right choice at the time. Even though I figured it out I was to scared to tell my friend this.

Until one day after we had gone to look at an apartment and she came over to my house to have dinner and talk more about our plans. We spent a few hours in my room, and the whole time I couldn't help but listen to what she was saying and think damn I can't move in with this person. She wasn't talking about us getting a place she was telling me I needed to cut my family off. She told me multiple time in an hour that I needed to get a new phone plan with just me on it and stop paying for my parents phones, mind you i wasn't forced to pay for their phones I offered to get a phone plan with them because it was the easiest thing to do and they were helping me pay for it. She was also telling me that i have to force them to teach me how to drive so she won't be the only one able to drive when we get a place. (I never learned to drive because i had priorities like school and helping raise my niece and nephew.) she then started talking shit about how we use or garage for storage and not for parking our cars, and how my parents need to stop smoking so that then maybe we would have more money for food. Like i will be the first to say yes, my parents need to stop smoking, and yes it would take some stress off of getting money for food but that's not her place.

After she realized I was getting irritated with the conversation she left, and we didn't speak for a week. When we did finally speak again, she called me crying because she didn't want to lose our friendship. I believed her. I thought it was just a call to iron out our feelings. I told her how I felt that I wasn't ready to move out because of my financial situation and my mental health. I told her that i didn't want to move in with her and put her through what she went through with her last roommate. (She had moved out with a friend and two months later the friend just up and left leaving her to deal with the apartment alone.) It sounded like she understood and was grateful for me telling the truth and backing out before we got too deep. or at least i thought she was for a while.

We started talking more and watching anime again. hell, we even joined a discord server about one of our animes and have made some awesome friends online. We talk nearly every day again and I thought things were great until two weeks ago.

One of her friends that she had introduced me to that i get along with invited the both of us to go swimming and of course i agreed, i love swimming and it would be nice to get out of the house. So, we went. While at the pool I had gotten out to go to the bathroom and left them to talk. When i got back to the pool they were talking about my friend's life. they were talking about how my friend is struggling with paying her rent and how she wishes she could find a cheaper place.

The friend we were at the pool with said that her and her fiancé were thinking of moving out of her mom's house because it to crowded and offered to plan to get a place with her. But my friend said no because she has ptsd from roommates bailing on her in the past. I knew she was talking about me but her friend thought she was talking about her first roommate, because we never directly said we were roommates because it was never official. My friend then said it's that and the fact that (op) did the same thing, they left for Oregon and they recently canceled our plans to get a place together. I understand that she may feel like i wronged her in some way but to phrase it that way hurt. she can feel upset but i thought we had moved past it.

Later that same day she told me that i don't talk to her when i have problems, which is true to an extant, i used to talk to her when i had problems with stuff she did but recently I've stopped because if i bring something up she does wrong she throws back at me saying it's my fault in some way. for example we watch anime through discord because it's easier than figuring out how to get to her house with her car broke down and me not driving. As of recently something has been going wrong where audio from her end is patchy and it gets hard to hear her. I've checked everything on my end, I have uninstalled and reinstalled discord, i have checked my headset but everything is fine when I'm not talking to her, audio is fine nothing cuts out. I have told her all of this, but of course she says she has done the same thing and therefore it has to be something on my end, it's my fault that it sounds like she is talking to me from a different room than where her mic and computer are because her headset is full charged and working fine corroding to her computer.

It feels like everything i do is wrong. I even feel that way about my taste in anime at this point. You see I like a very specific type of anime, the ones where the main character is an underdog who either can't do what everyone else can or just hasn't been introduced to the lore of the world yet, who eventually find their place and become strong, but not in a boom you are now the best of the best way but in a here's how to become the best, you have to work for it kinda way. for example, My hero academia, and Jujutsu Kaisen. these are my two favorites; my friend will watch them with me but has to point out every time that all my shows have very similar plots. She has taken it upon herself to have me watch animes that don't fit this profile, for example we just started watching banana fish and don't get me wrong i like to try new things and I'm enjoying it but what i don't like is in the first nine episodes she has made multiple comments about how it's nice to watch something without an underdog main character who has the same energy as a puppy. I understand having separate opinions is normal but constantly point out how she doesn't like the exact same stuff as me is bit much.

I've just been rethinking everything. I realized that i have stopped doing a lot of things i used to because of her. I stopped watching anime on my own, if i want to watch something i always text her and see if she wants to watch it. I stopped talking to one of my other ex-coworkers that i got along with because she doesn't really like her. I've also begun to realize that this is a lot of the same stuff my mom was going through with her Ex best friend. he constantly made her feel bad about things she liked, made her feel bad because she uses weed as pain relief (it's legal here), he hated on her family all the time. I can't help but feel like it's happening to me. She judges what i watch, she judges the fact that i vape (again i know not healthy but my bod my choice), she judges my family (even the ones she has never met) and if i did any of this in return i would be the bad guy. If i told her that i don't like how her dad talks to her, or how i don't like that she pushes me to my breaking point at the gym(not just past my limits but i have nearly passed out at the gym because she thinks that at 300 pounds and never having been to the gym before I can keep up with her 150 pound gym rat self.) she would tell me that I'm being mean and that i hurt her feelings.

My parents have told me multiple time i need to tell her that i feel this way and need to cut contact or at least limit it by a lot, but i don't know how. I don't expect anyone to actually read all of this as it took me almost two hours to right but I just needed to get it off my chest. if she sees it then she will know who she is and probably have a problem but im tired of bottling things up. If you do end up reading this and have advice, please share but for now I'm going to hope I can find a therapist soon to help me with coping mechanisms and get past this.

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2023/06/debt-ceiling-deal-us-house-overwhelmingly-passes-bill

Debt ceiling deal: US House overwhelmingly passes bill

Getty Images

By Sam Cabral

BBC News, Washington

The House of Representatives has approved a deal to allow the US to borrow more money, days before the world’s biggest economy is due to start defaulting on its debt.

The measure easily passed the chamber by a vote of 314-117, despite some defections on both sides of the aisle.

The US Senate must vote on the bill later this week before President Joe Biden can sign it into law.

The government is forecast to hit its borrowing limit on Monday 5 June.

That has left little margin for error as lawmakers race to avoid the US defaulting on its $31.4tn (£25tn) debt, which underpins the global financial system.

What’s in US debt ceiling deal and who won?

A simple guide to the US debt ceiling

On Wednesday evening, 165 Democrats joined 149 Republicans in approving the 99-page bill to raise the debt ceiling, allowing it to pass the House by the required simple majority.

With Republicans in control of the lower chamber of Congress and Democrats holding sway in the upper chamber and White House, a deal had proven elusive for weeks until President Biden and House Speaker Kevin McCarthy inked a bipartisan compromise over the weekend.

In a statement, Mr Biden thanked the Speaker, saying he had negotiated in good faith.

“Neither side got everything it wanted,” said the president. “That’s the responsibility of governing.”

A triumph for Speaker McCarthy

Kevin McCarthy was able to push Joe Biden and reluctant Democrats to the negotiating table by passing a bill that raised the debt limit but included a laundry list of conservative priorities.

Then he was able to hold his party together as he struck a less ambitious deal with the president that modestly trimmed the growth in federal spending and added some new conditions on aid for low-income Americans.

That was not enough for a group of hard-line conservatives, some of whom hinted they would unseat Mr McCarthy and force a new election for Speaker.

But by Wednesday, even the hottest of firebrands were backing away from their rhetoric. And when it came time to vote, a majority of Republicans approved Mr McCarthy’s deal.

While the hard-liners may grumble, it is clear they do not have anywhere near the level of support they would need to replace Mr McCarthy – or even any idea who to replace him with.

The agreement suspends the debt ceiling until 1 January 2025.

The legislation would result in $1.5tn in savings over a decade, the non-partisan Congressional Budget Office said on Tuesday.

But the bill’s passage had been in jeopardy after lawmakers from both parties voiced opposition.

Ultra-conservative Republicans complained they had secured too few concessions in exchange for raising the debt limit.

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Democrats objected to provisions raising work requirements for Americans on federal food aid, and restarting student loan repayments.

Emanuel Cleaver, a Missouri Democrat, said he would vote for the bill, even though he viewed it as the “second serving of Satan’s sandwiches”.

The leader of the House Democrats, Hakeem Jeffries, said his party had politically bailed out the Republican Speaker.

“Once again, House Democrats to the rescue to avoid a dangerous default,” said the New York congressman.

Eli Crane, an Arizona Republican who had vowed to stop the bill, tweeted: “More Democrats voted for this ‘historic conservative victory’ than Republicans.

“What a joke.”

Getty Images

Republicans control the House by a narrow 222-213 majority, but Speaker McCarthy was able to push the bill over the line with support from political centrists on both sides of the aisle.

He framed the package as “the biggest cut and savings this Congress has ever voted for”.

The bill is not yet assured of passage. It now heads to the Senate, where some combination of Democratic and Republican votes may again be needed.

What Danes can teach the US about its debt crisis

Could a US debt default unleash global chaos?

One conservative Republican, Mike Lee of Utah, has already threatened to use “every procedural tool” to stall consideration of the deal.

Left-wing Senator Bernie Sanders also came out against the bill on Wednesday, saying he cannot “in good conscience” support it.

Both Democratic and Republican leaders in the Senate are working to ensure that a bill reaches Mr Biden’s desk for his signature this weekend before a default can occur.

The last time the US came this close to overshooting its debt ceiling, in 2011, the credit agency Standard & Poor’s downgraded the country’s rating, a move that has yet to be reversed.

Before Wednesday’s vote, US stock markets ended the day down a little, with the Dow closing 0.4% lower, while the S&P and Nasdaq both dipped by 0.6%.

With Nomia Iqbal and Jessica Parker reporting from Capitol Hill

Related Topics

US politics

US Congress

United States

Joe Biden

[qocsuing]

How Blockchain Technology is Changing Real Estate

How Blockchain Technology is Changing Real Estate

Given blockchain’s disruption of financial services and subsequent widespread application across industries, it’s hard to find a segment that has not been influenced by the technology. Cryptocurrencies have made a strong impact on payments, remittances, and foreign exchange. Initial coin offerings (ICOs) have challenged stock investing, startup loans, and venture capital. Even the food supply chain industry has been upended by blockchain.To get more news about blockchain field survey, you can visit wikifx.com official website.

2. No Intermediaries Brokers, lawyers, and banks have long been part of the real estate ecosystem. However, blockchain may soon usher in a shift in their roles and participation in real estate transactions, according to a report by Deloitte. 1 New platforms can eventually assume functions such as listings, payments, and legal documentation. Cutting out the intermediaries will result in buyers and sellers getting more out of their money as they save on commissions and fees charged by these intermediaries. This also makes the process much quicker as the back-and-forth between these middlemen gets cut. 3. Liquidity Real estate has long been considered an illiquid asset since it takes time for sales to conclude. This isn’t the case with cryptocurrencies and tokens since they can, in theory, be readily traded for fiat currencies through exchanges. However, as tokens, real estate can be readily traded. A seller doesn’t have to wait for a buyer who can afford the whole property in order to get some value out of their property. 4. Fractional Ownership By allowing fractional ownership, blockchain also lowers the barriers to real estate investing. Typically, investments would require significant money upfront in order to acquire property. Alternatively, investors with could also pool their money to acquire bigger ticket properties. Through blockchain, investors would simply have to access a trading app to buy and sell even fractions of tokens as they see fit. In addition, fractional ownership would also help them avoid managing the properties themselves such as maintenance and leasing. 5. Decentralization Blockchain commands trust and security as a decentralized technology. Information stored in the blockchain is accessible to all peers on the network, making data transparent and immutable. One only has to go back to the housing bubble crash in 2008 to see how greed and the lack of transparency in the part of institutions can have catastrophic consequences. A decentralized exchange has trust built into the system. Since information can be verifiable to peers, buyers and sellers can have more confidence in conducting transactions. Fraud attempts would also be lessened. Smart contracts are increasingly becoming admissible records with Vermont and Arizona passing such legislation. As such, smart contracts would have more enforceability beyond the technology itself.

6. Costs The transparency associated with a decentralized network can also trim down costs associated with real estate transactions. Beyond the savings made by cutting out intermediaries’ professional fees and commissions, there are other costs such as inspections costs, registration fees, loan fees, and taxes associated with real estate. These costs even vary depending on the territory that has jurisdiction. Like intermediaries, these can be reduced or even eliminated from the equation as platforms automate these processes and make them part of the system.

[atdmoney1]

What is a Payday Loan?

 A payday loan is a type of short-term loan that can be issued at a store or online. It's repaid in a single payment on the borrower's next payday, or after income from another source is received.

These loans are often marketed as a way to help people with financial emergencies between their paychecks. However, they can lead to a vicious cycle of debt for those who can't repay them on time.

Payday loans are a type of short-term loan

A payday loan is a short-term, small-sum loan that's intended to be repaid on your next paycheck. They're a popular option for people who don't have good credit, but they can be costly and cause serious financial problems.

These loans have high-interest rates and can create a cycle of debt that's hard to break. They are also dangerous for people who have a low income or no credit history.

Payday loans are often offered by check-cashing businesses or finance companies that offer a range of consumer financial services. These companies are regulated under the Financial Institutions and Consumer Credit Act of 2010.

In some states, payday loans are illegal. Sixteen states--Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Georgia, Maryland, Massachusetts, Montana, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, and Vermont--and the District of Columbia outlaw payday loans.

The main reason people get payday loans is to cover recurring costs. This includes student loan payments, everyday transportation costs, and other expenses that come up on a regular basis.

To repay a payday loan, you write a postdated check or authorize the lender to electronically debit your checking account. The money is due on your next payday, generally two to four weeks from the date the loan was made.

Many payday lenders charge fees of up to $30 for every $100 you borrow. These fees add up quickly, resulting in an average annual percentage rate of almost 400% for a two-week payday loan, according to the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

Another way to avoid payday loans is to build up an emergency fund. If you save even a few hundred dollars, you can cover unexpected expenses such as car repairs or medical bills.

You can also reach out to a local community organization for free funds or to an alternative lender that offers lower interest rates. NerdWallet's database of local alternatives to payday loans can help you find the right solution for your situation.

In addition, be sure to shop around for a low-interest rate when you do take out a payday loan. You can do this by comparing interest rates, fees, and other charges.

They are issued at a store or online

In a nutshell, a payday loan is the name of a smallish cash loan (usually less than $1500) that can be borrowed from most bank and credit union branches. They can be obtained by presenting a photo ID, proof of address, and employment details, and they usually carry an interest rate of about 50%. The loan is usually repaid in one lump sum on your next payday or, more likely, within two weeks. The best way to get the most bang for your buck is to take the time to research which lenders are available in your local area. A quick Google search or a trip to your local bank branch should give you a few good recommendations. Alternatively, you could opt to use a comparison website to find the top payday lenders. The site will also tell you which lenders are regulated and the best prices for your money. The most important thing to remember is that you need to be honest with yourself and your lender to avoid getting into debt. To that end, it’s time to get your budget in order before you even think about a payday loan.

They are repaid in a single payment

Typically, borrowers repay payday loans in a single payment on or around the borrower’s next payday. The lender will either ask you to write a post-dated check for the full loan amount plus fees or it can electronically withdraw funds from your bank account.

While a payday loan may seem like a fast solution to an emergency, it’s important to remember that the interest on these loans is often high. A better solution would be to set aside extra cash each month to cover your expenses until you have an emergency that requires a larger amount of money. This will allow you to avoid paying high-interest rates on a payday loan and keep your credit score healthy. There are other options that can offer you a similar speed of cash, such as credit cards and pawnshops. You might also want to consider a local community organization that offers free funds to help you meet your basic monthly expenses, such as rent or utilities.

They are a form of credit

A payday loan is a form of credit that is issued at a store or online and that requires your signature to run a check or authorize an electronic withdrawal from your bank account. They are typically issued for up to two weeks, although some lenders can extend the loan up to a month, depending on the lender’s policies. Usually, you repay the full amount plus interest on your next payday, which can be up to one month after you receive the loan.

While they may seem like a quick fix, payday loans can quickly turn into a cycle of debt that leaves you paying fees and accrued interest every time you borrow money. Instead of seeking a payday loan, consider a personal loan or working with your credit union to get an affordable small-dollar loan. You can also consider reducing your expenses by eliminating unnecessary or unneeded items from your budget. By doing so, you will free up funds for emergencies, which could make you less likely to turn to payday loans in the future.

[gabrielalozano]

She joins the dancer at the bar, sipping at her drink and enjoying the atmosphere. Russia, Paris, it sounds far more glamorous than Tempe, Arizona. LA had been fun enough, but she hadn't appreciated it enough when she was there. "You're the closest thing to the idea that I'll ever know," she shrugs easily. Ballet, dance, sports, all of that required a level of discipline that Gabriela had never really mastered. It was hard to put down roots when there was the latent fear that she'd have to move across the country and change her name all over again, no matter what her mom promised. "I have two left feet, so I consider anyone who can walk around in heels to be royalty."

The glint of interest in Seine's eye makes her laugh, not the first person to have that split second of curiosity. "Actually an accountant," she clarifies, though she isn't offended. With the number of times that people have wondered, she has considered a side hustle to help pay off her loans a little faster. "Ah no, the camera definitely adds at least fifteen pounds, I just have that kind of face," Gabriela shakes her head. Being the center of attention might have been thrilling when she was younger, but now she prefers a more under the radar presence. "Politics makes it sound like anyone cares if I'm here," she shakes her head. "I don't know, it's one of those things that people say we should show up to, for networking, but most of the time I just end up getting my money's worth in nice liquor. Occasionally I meet someone worth remembering."

"Deal, I'll save it for later." The stripper offers a wink and a gracefully smiled smile, that turns into a look of perfect satisfaction when Gabriela's lips touch the back of her hand. Seine carefully pulls it back, and lifts herself onto one of the bar stools, red bottoms gently hitting the metal of it. "I trained in Russia," she offers as life-story, "Left the country and stayed in Paris." Seine pauses, sad, faked despair, "I broke my ankle on stage, due to faulty point shoes. That was the end of my seemingly glorious career." A weak laugh is the follow-up of her words, "But I did play a few princesses, so?"

Gabriela leans in closer, and the word accountant spikes her interest. Not once has she met an accountant that actually is one, but maybe this woman is the exception? "Supposedly so." Seine stirs her straw around her drink, then takes a slow sip, "A shame, you're hidden away from all the cameras then. Might I ask, have you seen your face? That's a wasted opportunity." Seine lets her gaze travel down her body once more, humming against her straw, "So, it's politics that bring you here. I'm just mingling, I have to assume."

[hiltonloans01]

Exploring Mortgage Investment Products for Steady Returns in Uncertain Markets

In today's ever-evolving financial landscape, investors are constantly searching for ways to balance risk and reward. With the worldwide economy dealing with uncertainty, traditional investment alternatives such as shares and bonds can seem risky and unpredictable. One asset magnificence that gives potential for steady returns is mortgage investments. These products permit people to lend capital to homebuyers or belongings builders, receiving hobby payments in return. In this blog, we’ll discover the advantages of mortgage funding products and how they could offer stability and consistent earnings, even in times of market volatility.

What Are Mortgage Investments?

Mortgage investments are essentially loans secured by means of real estate. In those investments, creditors (the investors) offer capital to debtors, often within the shape of a loan or a real property loan. The borrower uses the finances to purchase assets or for property development, and the lender receives ordinary interest bills at some point of the loan term. The mortgage acts as collateral, which provides a layer of protection to the investment. Mortgage investments can be performed directly, thru personal lending, or not directly, thru loan-subsidized securities (MBS) or mortgage budget.

Benefits of Mortgage Investments

One of the key advantages of loan investments is their potential to generate regular income. Mortgage lenders usually get hold of normal interest bills on their loans, presenting a regular coins waft. This is in particular appealing in uncertain markets, wherein inventory dividends or bond yields might vary. Moreover, loan investments are regularly visible as decrease hazard as compared to different sorts of lending due to the fact the loans are backed by real estate, that can function a safety net in case of borrower default.

How Mortgage Investments Perform in Uncertain Markets

In unsure markets, stability becomes a key element for traders. Mortgage investments have a quite low correlation with inventory market performance, because of this they tend to perform independently of the wider market’s u.S.And downs. In addition, the collateral nature of mortgage investments—where the mortgage is secured by means of belongings—can offer peace of thoughts. Even if the borrower defaults, the lender might also have the capacity to foreclose on the assets to recover the funding, depending on the terms of the loan.

Diversification and Risk Mitigation

Diversification is one of the essential standards of investing, and mortgage investments are an splendid manner to decorate a assorted portfolio. By adding mortgage-sponsored products to your investment strategy, you can unfold your hazard across exclusive asset lessons. Moreover, loan investments are usually less touchy to marketplace volatility and monetary downturns compared to different investments. This can assist mitigate risks, particularly for investors in search of a balanced portfolio which can weather diverse marketplace conditions.

Understanding the Different Types of Mortgage Investment Products

There are diverse approaches to spend money on mortgages, each with its personal set of traits. The two primary styles of mortgage funding products are direct lending and loan budget. Direct lending entails providing loans directly to assets shoppers or developers. Investors receive hobby payments on those loans over the years. Mortgage price range, however, pool capital from multiple buyers to fund various loan loans. These budget are controlled by using specialists and allow investors to advantage publicity to a extensive variety of mortgages with out the need for direct involvement.

Evaluating the Risks of Mortgage Investments

While mortgage investments can offer consistent returns, they are now not with out dangers. For instance, the borrower might also default on the loan, leading to ability losses. However, the secured nature of those investments—sponsored by means of belongings—reduces the likelihood of total loss. Additionally, financial downturns can have an effect on the fee of real property, impacting the investor's ability to get better their finances thru foreclosure. Therefore, it's crucial to carefully examine the loan phrases, the borrower's financial situation, and the property’s market fee earlier than making any loan funding.

Choosing the Right Mortgage Investment for Your Goals

Choosing the proper mortgage investment product relies upon for your investment goals, chance tolerance, and time horizon. If you are seeking out better returns and are willing to tackle more chance, you might don't forget direct lending to borrowers with better credit score danger or belongings developers. On the other hand, in case you decide upon lower-danger, varied investments, mortgage price range that pool a couple of loans may be a higher healthy. Additionally, operating with a monetary guide who is familiar with the intricacies of mortgage investments can assist make certain you choose the maximum appropriate options in your portfolio.

Conclusion:

Corporation Mortgage investments offer a unique possibility to earn regular returns in an otherwise unpredictable market. With the proper approach, those merchandise can provide a strong profits circulation, sponsored by way of real estate assets, and decrease the general risk for your investment portfolio. If you're thinking about diversifying into loan investments, Hilton Financial Corporation is right here to help manual you through the system. With our expertise in loan-subsidized merchandise and personalized investment strategies, we assist you to make knowledgeable decisions and steady a more solid monetary future. Let us assist you in exploring the proper loan funding possibilities in your long-time period financial goals.

[hiltonloans]

WHY CHOOSE HILTON FINANCIAL CORPORATION FOR HARD MONEY LOANS?

Recognized as one of the top private lenders in Phoenix, Hilton Financial Solutions, has been providing hard money loans for years now. Known to close deals in as less as 24 hours, Hilton financial corporation is the only place that you need to resort to for all your funding related issues! Rest assured, that you’ll always look upon us for your all such needs!

[firsttimehomebuyerloan]

Are you planning to be the first time home buyer in Maryland ? Call 800-826-5077 now

Are you planning to be the first time home buyer in Maryland ? Call 800-826-5077 now

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part twenty two) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part twenty two: Y/N is about to take the stage together with her horse Meadow, but stage fright is making it very difficult to bring the evening to a successful end. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Opening scene: First Defeat - Noah Gundersen, Meadow’s freestyle: Stairway To Heaven, Immigrant Song, Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74​​, and @winchest09​​ for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Y/N dips the sponge foaming with leather soap in a small bucket of water, and softly moves it in circles over the gullet of Meadow’s cognac colored saddle. Making sure to get into the little curves and edges of the beautifully decorated piece of craftsmanship, she picks up an old toothbrush and gently sweeps the dirt out of the grooves; it’s one of the older tricks in the book. 

     The maintenance does a lot of things besides calm the mind. It keeps the material supple, stops it from tearing, therefore saddles and bridles last longer. The leather will be soft on the horse’s coat and prevent sores and irritation of the skin. Clean and shiny tack says a lot about a person. They are usually precise, provident, and have a keen eye for detail. Often perfectionists who leave nothing to chance. Y/N is such a person.

     Dean watches her, adoration on his features. She hasn’t spotted him yet, too focused on the chore. His hands are buried in the front pockets of his jeans while he leans against the door of the makeshift tack room, where she’s working in silence. He notices how loose hairs have escaped her french braid, how she bites her lip while concentrating. He notices the black smear on her cheek, her hands grimy from the mixture of soap and dirt coming from the saddle. He notices all those little things, and all else he loves about her.

     There might be a soft smile on his lips, but his eyes give away how much his heart is hurting. He hasn’t been able to ban the haunting words from his thoughts, nor the realization that came with it; no matter how much time he puts between the past and present, he can’t outrun those dark days.      The troubled cowboy wishes he could tell her, but he doesn’t want to drag his girl into this. She would pity him, be disgusted. She would run as far away as she could, and he wouldn’t even blame her if she does just that. The fact that he is unable to be truthful, has him doubt everything they have accomplished. How can he ask her to trust him, when he can’t be honest with her? When he doesn’t even trust himself?

     Y/N rises from the small stool to get a cloth from her tack box in order to polish the saddle, when she notices a figure from the corner of her eye. For a second she startles, but then realizes it’s her boyfriend.      “How long have you been standing there?” she chuckles.      “For a little while,” he admits, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slightly bigger smile. “Didn’t mean to creep you out.”      “Don’t worry, you didn’t. Fergus MacLeod on the other hand…” Y/N comments, squirting some shine cream on the cloth. 

     Before she returns to her stool again to finish the dirty job, Dean steps closer and takes her hand. Desperate for her to ground him, he lets his fingers trace her stained knuckles, taking the cleaning product from her and putting it aside. He focuses on their hold and keeps quiet, being more tentative than conversational.      “Dean?”      Her voice is laced with confusion and worry, and when he looks up, he sees that her eyes match the warm sound. Willing to do anything to take those concerns away, he cups her face and gently pulls Y/N closer. His lips catch hers, sweetly at first. Dean cherishes the moment when she melts into his touch, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t unsettle him when she unwinds her fingers from his, because he can feel his cowboy hat leave his head, those same fingers now running through his short hair.

     Dean takes his time, eyes closed and his long lashes brushing against her cheek. He draws her in, moving his hand up her side as if he’s afraid she might slip away at any moment. There’s a hint of distress in the way he is kissing her, even though she can tell he is trying to hide it. Knowing that now is not the time to question his reasoning, she gives him what he needs so hopelessly. After a long, intimate minute, in the shelter of the small tack room, Dean parts from her. Y/N hopes to see a smile, but his eyes remain closed as he presses his forehead against hers.

     “What’s going on?” she encourages, gently.      “Nothin’. I’m alright,” he claims, but when she raises her eyebrows at him knowingly, he gives her an explanation, even though it’s not the whole truth. “Fergus MacLeod got under my skin with the way he spoke to you, is all.”      “Oh, you mean the pet names?” She scoffs, shaking her head at the memory. “I wouldn’t read into it. He’s an Englishman; they address women like that.”      “Still…” Dean rubs the pad of his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the grease. He is beginning to find his footing again. “I’m the only one who gets to call you that.”      “And you think I’m the jealous one,” Y/N jokes. “You never call me ‘darling’ or ‘love’ anyway.”      He grins at her mockery, especially when she overdoes the accent. His eyes are still sincere as ever.       “Because you’re my Yankee,” he says softly.

     Her smile becomes brighter, her nickname rolling from his tongue usually having that effect. And for just a second, Dean forgets about all the worry in the world. He kisses her once more, short and sweet this time, daring to take a hold of her gaze now that his mask fits again.      “You stood your ground when that stuck up made that offer on Meadow,” he compliments. “You basically told him to go fuck himself. That was pretty badass.”

     Shyly, Y/N shrugs. To her it didn’t cost her an ounce of bravery or willpower. She has gotten offers on her horse before, although never one this high. But Fergus could offer a billion, there is no way in hell she will ever let Meadow go.      “She’s priceless, Dean,” the cowgirl explains, simply. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”      “I know,” her boyfriend acknowledges. “All I’m saying is that many would have considered it. The fact that it’s not even an option for you, just shows how much she means to you.” He pauses, admiring the strong minded woman before him. “She’s your soul horse.”      “My what?” Y/N recalls, curiously.

     Dean chuckles, realizing that it’s not a widely known term. It was Ellen who told him about the special bond between human and horse, when he was younger. It became something that always stuck with him, words he never forgot.      “Every equestrian comes across that one horse in their life. The one that stands out from all the others, that captures you, takes up a huge space in here.” He taps two fingers on his chest, right where his heart is. “The one you have this unbreakable bond with, who you trust and trusts you. The one you will never forget,” he explains. “That’s your soul horse.”

     Y/N begins to glow, because every word he spoke sounds familiar. Dean is right; Meadow is her soul horse.      “I like that,” she says, thinking about his words for a second. 

     Content, she moves past Dean to pick up the polish, in order for her to return to the task she needs to finish.       “What else did the snobby Brit have to say?” she wonders, sitting back down on her stool, beginning to rub the cream onto the horn and the pommel of the saddle.      “He bought Jovi and Ringo, actually,” the cowboy elaborates, turning to the side to check out the perfectly clean bridle hanging from the tack box door. He’s giving himself something to focus on, feeling the soft leather under his fingers.      “Did he! That’s great, right?” she checks, noticing that her boyfriend isn’t exactly thrilled about the matter.      Dean glances at her, forcing a smile. “Yeah, the money is certainly welcome.”      “I bet Bobby is pleased,” Y/N assumes, wiping down the saddle one last time before she puts the cover back on. “Did he say anything about our dance last night?”      “He didn’t. I think he’s lettin’ it slide.” Dean shrugs. “He’s not someone to discuss this kinda stuff anyway, so I’m guessin’ no word about it is good.”      Y/N is willing to accept his reasoning. “Well, alright. If you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble.”      “I doubt it, and even if he’d give me a hard time, it’s worth the lecture.” Dean chuckles, glancing down at his boots. “Fergus made another business proposition, too.”      The cowgirl gets up and lifts the heavy saddle from its stand, carrying it to the tack box and storing it away. “What’s that?”      “He wants me to train one of his horses,” he tells her.      Her eyes grow wide as she shuts the door. “A stallion? Dean, that’s huge!”      The wrangler chuckles at her enthusiasm. “It’s just the one.” 

     “Do you realize that this could be the start of something very rewarding? He owns stables full of licensed stallions. It might be a great stepping stone. I mean, look at Jovi and Ringo; they were sold from under you before you could really shine with them,” Y/N brings to mind. “Riding a talented horse for an owner who has no desire to sell because of the money already coming in with stud fees, is really good for you. This could become your big break.”

     Dean hasn’t even looked at it that way, but he guesses it’s why his girlfriend is so good in her field. She always thinks five steps ahead, seeing opportunities where another person would just see a lot of work.      He remains realistic, though, not wanting to celebrate too quickly. “Well, apparently Cain is a handful, so we’ll see how it goes.”      “Wait… Cain?” She was already staring at him in astonishment, but now her jaw almost drops to the floor. “As in the Quarter sired by Dual Ray. The one that went for 1.2 million at the Derby auction?! Shut up!”

     “Someone watched the news.” Dean grins, the sight of her girlfriend so perplexed being quite amusing. “But, yeah. He’s arriving at the ranch next week. Depending on how bad his behavioral problems are, he’s staying or leaving. I have a feeling MacLeod isn’t telling the whole story.”      “Well, even if Cain’s issues are worse than Fergus let on--” She steps closer, slipping her arms around his neck. “- if anyone can fix him, it’s you.”

     The confidence she has in him astonishes the cowboy. He doesn’t deserve it, her never ending support, her faith. Even now, all he’s doing is bullshitting his way through this exchange. He hopes to God Y/N doesn’t pick up on his insecurities, because maybe if she doesn’t, they can stay in this bubble for a little while longer. 

     Another kiss is pressed on his lips and for just that moment, Dean forgets about the demons that so often torment his mind. Unable to resist her even if he tries, the cowboy reels her in. He can sense his Yankee smile against his mouth and he can’t help to copy her expression. When he can feel her weaken in his hold, however, it is quickly replaced with a look of concern.      “You okay?” he asks apprehensively, his grip on her firmer to make sure she doesn’t go down, but thankfully she steadies.      “Yeah, just a little lightheaded.” Y/N takes a breath. “I’m fine.”      “Did you eat today?” Dean requires, both stern and worried.      “No,” she admits. “I can’t eat before a competition. Nerves and all.”      “Are you kiddin’ me? You’re not up until 8 PM!” he returns, not having any of it. “Yankee, You gotta eat. I’ll buy you somethin’.”      “I wouldn’t be able to take even one bite, Dean. Don’t bother. I’ll have an energy drink before I get on Meadow.”      “Oh, hell no. You can’t do your run while low on fuel,” her boyfriend decides, carefully letting her go when he’s sure she has found her balance again. “How about yoghurt? Or some fruit? Did that really just come out of my mouth?”      Y/N snorts when she notices the double take at his own suggestions, his nose wrinkling in revulsion, as if he just said something vile and doesn’t even know himself anymore.      “Would a smoothie work? I saw a stand by the arena,” Dean offers.      She shrugs, appreciating his efforts and not wanting to deny him. “I could try.”      “Alright.” He leaves a quick kiss on her mouth and picks up his hat, before he intends to leave the tack room. In the doorway he turns around, his body language showing confusion, yet his eyes sparkle.      “I never in my life thought I was gonna say this, but I’m gonna buy a smoothie,” he announces, before shooting her a wink and disappearing.      Y/N laughs now, shaking her head at his comical ways. Bless him, at least he’s trying.

     7.00 PM. Y/N is back in the tack room where she spent most of her morning cleaning her gear. When there was absolutely nothing left to polish, every bit of brass on her saddle and bridle shining so bright it could quite possibly blind the judges once in the arena, she tried to distract herself another way. She did manage to consume the smoothie her boyfriend brought her, though, much to his delight. It helped, because the dizziness has passed, but a stress headache remains. She sat down for lunch with Benny, Jo and Dean, although she didn’t eat anything. Conversation moved past her like the Arizona autumn breeze that’s blowing across the show grounds. 

     Afterwards, she assisted Dean with his last ride of the day, this time in the ‘working cow horse’ class, which is a fun combination between reining and managing cattle. After feeding the horses and providing them with water, the crew went to the arena to watch some runs. It only triggered restlessness in her heart that seemed impossible to calm, and it didn’t take long before she returned to the stable. She spent some time with Meadow, her dance partner tonight, simply sitting in the corner of her box, watching the beautiful animal chew on her hay, completely at ease with her owner’s presence. 

     Now, it’s time to prepare herself. Meadow is already tacked up, waiting in her stall until Y/N is ready, one hind hoof resting on its toe, preserving energy. It’s like the animal knows, since she normally is quite impatient, but right before a competition, she prefers to nap on her feet.      It’s a huge contrast to her human, who has trouble controlling her anxiety. The smoothie she had earlier is bubbling inside Y/N, her stomach unsettled. Trying to calm herself by making sure that everything is perfect, she goes through the familiar checklist in her head while the soundtrack of her freestyle plays on her phone. 

     Dean helped her work out the new routine, thankfully. After setting the bar way too high in her first draft, almost making herself cry when she realized just how impossible it was, he suggested more simple lines, but combinations of the patterns. This is supposed to kick up the degree of difficulty without the floorplan being a tangled mess, and highlights Meadow’s strengths. What she had to figure out next, was what kind of music she wanted to ride to.

     Her boyfriend contacted Ash, who was more than willing to edit the tunes for the intern. When she offered Dean the idea, she knew it was a hit when she saw his eyes twinkle. They took the request to the former ranch hand, who went to work and knocked it out of the park. Honestly, a part of Y/N cannot wait to ride her new freestyle, but she’s also downright petrified. What if she screws up? What if she forgets her routine? What if she doesn’t nail it, with Congress only two weeks away? What if she fails?

     Everything is ready, all she needs to do is change into her show outfit. Y/N strips down, switching her blue jeans and plaid shirt for black. The back of her button up is decorated with golden studs in the shape of a guitar, and so are the cuffs and shoulders. During a freestyle the rider is allowed to ‘dress up’ and add elements in the arena, make a show of it. Although she’s not a fan of the whole circus act, and much rather prefers to let her performance do the talking and convincing, she wasn’t resenting the idea Ash offered when they listened to the soundtrack. Ellen helped her sow on the miniature pyramid-shaped beads, and the end result is better than Y/N could have hoped for.

     The focused competitor slips into her onyx chaps which she just took out, and laces the leather strap through the belt loop of her jeans. She then continues to unpack her cowboy boots, which are the same color as Meadow’s fiery brown tack, shining just as bright. Her brass spurs follow, the rowel jingling when she turns to take a round box from the top, unzipping the lid. The beautiful Milano hat inside has her smile down on the crafted head piece; it was a Christmas gift from her parents. One she received right before her first show with the Quarter mare, the horse who gives her so much more than she could ever hope for.      She picks it up by the crown and places it on her smooth hair which Jo braided earlier, the action raising a sense of pride in her chest. The hat makes the outfit, but it comes along with so much more. It gives back some of the confidence her insecurities took away. She’s a cowgirl, in heart and soul.

     Last but not least, she takes an object from the same container that safeguarded the Milano. Reminiscing, Y/N draws her thumb over the gold plated metal, feeling the edges of the letters and symbols under her fingertip; it’s her State Championship belt buckle. She closes her eyes, the memories of that epic run flooding her thoughts welcomingly. The stadium spotlights, the roaring crowd, her name in bright letters on the scoreboard. And then that indescribable feeling of horse and rider becoming one, the thrill of coming down that centerline and just knowing that this was going to be their moment, the ride of their lives. She will be in seventh heaven if she manages to get even remotely close to the pinnacle they reached that day.

     Footsteps draw her back to reality, the dry ground crunching under heavy boots in the alleyway between the stables. Y/N doesn’t question who it is, Dean promised to help her with the warmup, and since she has stated in her very detailed schedule that she is going to get on her horse ten minutes from now, she is expecting his arrival. Turning around, she meets his astonished gaze in the doorway, his jaw slightly ajar.      “Do you think I’d be showing off if I wear this?” she wonders, offering him a look at the coveted buckle.

     But Dean only has eyes for a different prize. He needs a moment to recover from the sight of his girlfriend. She’s drop dead gorgeous after a morning muck out, with hay in her messy locks and dust sticking to her damp skin. But now, dressed in her black show outfit, her hair braided and her make-up bringing out the color of her eyes even more, he can’t help but stammer.      He chuckles warmly, a blush on his cheeks. “You look - you look amazing.”

     His reaction draws a smile on her lips, but she’s too anxious to really appreciate the compliment. There is a time schedule to be considered after all.      “My State Champion buckle, or a simple one?” she asks him again, not daring to make the call herself.      Dean takes the shiny object, tilting it to admire the award. ‘AQHA State Champion - Maine, 2008’ it says, the inscription curved around a horse’s head, edged in silver and gold.      “Wear it,” he decides. “You won that championship fair and square.”      “Yeah, I know, it’s just that--” She pauses, fiddling to close the buttons on her cuffs. “I don’t wanna fail to meet everyone's expectations.”      The cowboy looks up at her from under his lashes, his green eyes reading her for a second. “Everyone’s expectations? Or your own?”

     Dean has a solid point, but evaluating thought processes is not something she needs right now. She sighs and tries to bury her frustrations, very much aware that she snaps easily when she’s on edge like she is now. It wouldn’t be the first time that she loses her cool with someone who is actually there to support her, it usually being either her parents or her brothers. She doesn’t want her boyfriend to endure the same unreasonable behavior, and so she shrugs at that.      “I don’t know, really. I mean, yes, I expect a lot from myself, but the thought that people on the sideline, like Bobby, Jody, Donna… you, will judge my every move,” she pauses, letting an anxious sigh fall from her lips. “It honestly makes me feel sick.”

     “You shouldn’t let it get to you like that,” Dean suggests, handing her back the buckle.      “Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done,” she returns, the edge of her voice much sharper than she meant to come out. While pulling her belt through the loops, she briefly looks up, noticing his head cocked back slightly while his brows meet his hairline, which triggers her to mutter an apology. “Sorry.”

     He can see the embarrassment in her stance as she turns her gaze to the floor. The slight offense he took desolates, making room for sympathy. He can tell she’s struggling to cope with the nerves and the pressure she is under, pressure she shouldn’t even be experiencing. This competition is a practice run, an environment to test her new freestyle and get back into the rhythm of the shows after a long break. However, he understands that downgrading this event will not do her any good. What he needs to convince her of, is to believe in herself, like he believes in her.

     “Yankee, you’re never gonna fail my expectations. The way I see you doesn’t stand or fall with this performance, or any.” He takes her hands in his, squeezing them softly in order to prevent her from getting lost in that dark forest of negative thoughts. “I get that you want to prove yourself, but it ain’t necessary. The girls already love you, and the fact that Bobby didn’t rip me a new one for kissing you last night proves a point too. All that won’t change after today’s run.”

     Carefully, Y/N glances up, met by the sight of empathy swimming in mystic green eyes.      “I’m here to back you up, okay? I’ll help you with the warm up, and Jo will be there to assist. It’s gonna be fine. Your horse is awesome, your freestyle is awesome, you are awesome,” he reassures, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Now get your fine butt on that horse.”      She takes a slow breath, the smile that his words surface saying just how much that means to her. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

     With Meadow’s bridle in hand, she exits the tack room, feeling somewhat lighter than she did ten minutes ago. Dean’s kind words and endless support doesn’t take away the anxiety entirely, but it has enough of an effect to have her believe that maybe, just maybe, she is going to survive this evening. At least he is by her side, not just as her man, but as her trainer as well, and with the way he has been with her so far, she can already tell how different he is from her former instructor. No list of exercises she needs to go through during the warm up, no ‘do this’ or ‘don’t do that’ while she’s preparing to get on her horse. It’s a huge contrast, but one for the better. Maybe Dean is right, maybe it is going to be fine.

     Dean looks up when he notices someone approaching from the corner of his eye, the small framed silhouette with a dancing ponytail unmistakably Jo’s. She has a bucket half full with water in one hand with a sponge floating on the surface, a rag hanging from her back pocket and a groom bag over her shoulder.      “You ready, sis?” she asks, popping her head over the stable door.      “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/N sighs, tightening the sinch.      “You’re gonna do great. Especially with your lover whispering in your ear.” She hands them both a headset, one with a small microphone for Dean and one with an earpiece for her best friend. “Keep it clean, no heavy breathing. The poor girl needs to stay focused.”

     The cowboy glares at his cousin, but he bites his tongue, simply because the comment made his girl let out a laugh. Instead he turns on the small device and pushes it in his pocket, secures the mic to the collar of his shirt.      Y/N clips the headset behind her belt as well and pushes the bud into her ear. After holding the bit in front of Meadow’s mouth for her to accept, her owner pulls the crown piece of the bridle over her horse’s ears, securing the straps. Focused on her task at hand, she notices a crucial element missing.      “Crap, Grandpa’s pendant,” she realizes, pushing the reins into Jo’s hand before rushing back into the tack box. 

     A moment later, she returns with a small suede bag in her hand, from which she carefully allows a piece of jewelry to roll into her hand. Curious, Dean watches her pick it up between her delicate fingers, after which she attaches it to Meadow’s bridle. Two beads are laced onto a thin leather cord, and the way she handles the small yet precious object, he can tell it holds much value.      “Is that your good luck charm?” Jo wonders.      “Yeah,” the rider acknowledges, taking back the reins from her friend and leading Meadow out of the stable. “My grandfather gave it to me on my very first show when I was seven.” 

     Y/N has never ridden a test without the jewel, and she can’t picture doing so in the future. The top bead is made from her birthstone, the one dangling underneath represents a guardian angel. While taking her horse outside, she rubs Meadow’s neck, tracing the charm for a second as the setting sun catches the gem. Before she had to say goodbye to the most influential person in her life, she never really pictured anyone when she saw the little figure with wings dangling from Meadow’s browband, but now she likes to think it is him, watching over her.

     A couple of minutes later, Y/N has taken a seat on Meadow’s back, who excitedly walks towards the warm up area with Dean and Jo in tow. Flanked by her trainer on her right side and her groom on the left, a hint of relief hits the cowgirl unexpectedly; she has never been surrounded by a team this solid.  

     The horse and rider enter the side arena, where a dozen others are warming up in what seems to be a whirlwind of sensories. Music reaches Y/N’s hearing, coming from the competition ring and mixing with loud cheers of the spectators. Trainers shout at their pupils from the sideline, the steward calling for the next on the list. In her first loop in a simple walk, someone cuts her off and Meadow pins her ears back, clearly not at ease in the chaos.

     “Can you hear me?” Dean asks through the headset, leaning over the fence of the training field.      The familiar warm yet gruff sound in her ear silences the distractions that have her dizzy in an instance. She looks over her shoulder at the head wrangler, nodding in response.      “Okay, good. Warm her up like you would do so at home. Try to seek a space where it’s not too crowded, you don’t have to use the entire area,” Dean advises, calmly. “Just focus on my voice, alright? Take a deep breath and focus on me.”

     Y/N closes her eyes for a short second and collects herself, doing precisely what he tells her to do. Throughout the warm up he never underlines what she’s doing wrong, but praises her for every right move, building her confidence. For a short period of time it has her wondering if he’s sugarcoating and isn’t giving it to her straight, but minute by minute, she finds it easier to let go of that thought. His encouraging words manage to cast away the fear of screwing up, and before she knows it, she has forgotten about the other riders in the arena, nor does she notice her distracting surroundings. All she hears is his soothing vocals, all she feels is the large animal underneath her, who seems to respond well to their trainer too. Meadow might not be able to hear Dean, but apparently senses the tension oozing from her rider, and becomes more relaxed with every stride.

     It’s five minutes until her starting time, when Y/N halts by the fence, next to Jo and Dean. Her friend and groom for the day takes her cue and approaches her with the bucket, wiping down Meadow’s sweaty skin with the sponge, cleaning the mare up before it’s her time to shine. Y/N takes out her ear buds, since she’s not allowed to compete with them, and hands the headset to Jo, trading it for a water bottle.      “She feels good, doesn’t she?” Dean checks, smiling up at her while he takes the plastic flask from his student.      The woman in the saddle nods. “She does.” 

     “Y/N Y/L/N! Two minutes!”      The rider feels the nerves find their traction again when she glances at the steward who called out her name. She nods in acknowledgement at the man holding a clipboard, and when Jo is done toweling Meadow down, she steers the Quarter towards the entrance of the main arena. The applause that the previous competitor receives grows louder as they approach, meeting the rider on their way over. He seems very pleased with his horse, and the first thing that comes to her mind is that he must have had a good score, a score she needs to beat.  The serene mindset the wrangler got her in, is threatened to be disturbed by the stage fright that grips her by the throat. Suddenly, it hits her; this is it.

     “Hey…” Dean lays his hand on her knee when he detects that he’s losing her again. “Yankee?”      The cowgirl snaps her gaze from the intimidating competition ground to her trainer, who meets her with the most relaxed expression he can muster, despite his worry about her current mental state. He can tell she’s downright scared, not to fall off her horse or anything, but to make a mistake, drop the ball and to have to leave the boxing ring defeated. Right now, the illuminated soil that is about to be her stage isn’t a dance floor to Y/N. No, her eyes tell him a different story, the one of a gladiator in a colosseum, being thrown into the pit for the lions, destined to be defeated, destined to fail.

     “When you go in there, I need you to forget about everything,” he starts off, earning a confused look.      “What do you mean?” she wonders.      “Forget the judges, forget the audience, hell, forget what I’ve told you,” Dean continues, his thumb rubbing her leg soothingly. “The only one you need to listen to, is Meadow. Feel what she tells you and trust your gut when you answer. Let go of all the rest, alright?”

     Y/N nods, wetting her dry lips, shooting another glance at the arena before she looks down on the man who has been able to ground her like only one other person has. Dean seems to know who is on her mind, because he reaches for the pendant attached to her horse’s bridle.      “He’s with you, and I will be waiting right here, no matter what. You got this, Yankee.” 

     The encouraging words close off her throat much like the anxiety did earlier, but this time the sentiment is welcoming. Dean’s pep talk helped her see what is truly important, and that this moment is just a short clip of a larger motion picture. She has Meadow, she has Dean, and she has the memory of her grandfather, along with all the wise life lessons that he taught her. Whatever happens in the coming five minutes, that will not change. She trusts the beacon of support that is the man by her side. But in this very moment, most importantly, she trusts Meadow.

     Y/N breathes in through her nose and exhales slowly, rubbing her horse’s shoulder, more confident than she has felt all week. The gatekeeper opens the fence for the horse and rider, nothing standing between them and the brightly lit competition ring. 

     “The next contestant of the evening is Y/N Y/L/N, all the way from Freeport, Maine. This young lady rides Meadowsweet, a nine year old mare sired by Gunner, and these two have made a name for themselves already. Folks, you are going to be watching the current State Champion and this pair has qualified for the prestigious All American Quarter Horse Congress in three weeks. This will be the premiere of their brand new freestyle, so get ready for a rock ‘n roll ride, y’all.”

     Y/N peers into the grand arena, tilting her hat forward just enough to keep the spotlights from blinding her. She can feel Dean’s fingers slip from her knee, setting her free now that she has taken control. Focused and determined, the cowgirl makes eye contact with the sound technician, raising her hand. Showtime.

     The first tones of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven begins to play, and Y/N enters the arena slowly. The timid music silences the crowd, suspense hanging thick in the air. Meadow moves down the centerline and halts, her head low and submissive, waiting for her cue. The intro finishes, the acoustic notes dying down and leaving a second long silence. Knowing the music by heart, the woman in the saddle squeezes her fist holding the reins slightly, preparing Meadow for what is about to come. Then, right as Immigrant Song rings in her ears, she sends her Quarterhorse into a spin.

With high speed and great technique, the mare revolves on the spot like a helicopter rotor, and after going full circle four times stops dead in her tracks, before doing the exact same movement, only this time turning right. The crowd goes absolutely ballistic, and it’s then that Y/N feels a wide smile spreading on her face; she’s gonna nail this run.

     One small aid is enough to push Meadow forward, the horse shooting down the centerline like an arrow leaving its bow. With only a few yards between the cowgirl and the judges, she sits back in the saddle, signalling Meadow to dig her hind legs into the ground and progress into an impressive sliding stop. It’s bold, because if the maneuver isn’t spot on, the panel will easily detect the error. The execution is perfect, however, and gathering from the entertained and impressed expressions on the judges’ faces, Y/N’s game plan is working. 

     With attitude, Meadow rolls back and races around the arena on a large circle, her long strides evenly powerful and rhythmic, this time to the soundtrack of Whole Lotta Love. With her left hand forward between the bay horse’s ears, the cowgirl peers down the path that’s to come, and after having gone full circle, she switches to a left canter through a flying change and mirrors the previous pattern. 

     The buzz ignited by both the thrilling ride and the response of the audience only fuels her confidence. When she exits the last full speed circle, she transitions into a lope, a collected gate Meadow masters well. The horse and rider combination crosses the arena through a neat half pass. It’s a sideways movement right in front of the judges, the talented mare showing off her reach and finesse. 

     Not once does Y/N have to correct her dancing partner, every small cue effective. Meadow follows the instructions without question, unable to give a damn about the vibrant ambiance. It’s almost as if the animal can read her owner’s mind, a telepathic connection which can only be established when human and horse have that click and share an unique bond. This is what horse riding is all about, this is the ultimate goal. Two hearts beating as one. 

     The music builds up to its zenith and shifts to the finishing electric guitar solo in Stairway To Heaven, by the same famous rock band that has been the backing track to this epic performance. On the diagonal, Meadow picks up speed again, her strong muscles rippling under her copper colored coat. The thousand pound being reaches a speed of forty-five miles an hour, accelerating until the opposite corner, where she performs another perfect stop followed by a roll back. There is not a speck of hesitation or doubt, nor any sign of fatigue, despite a sequential series of maneuvers. 

     After a third stop, she has executed the mandatory patterns, and all that’s left is to go out with a bang. Y/N sends Meadow into one final spin, the tremendous momentum having her dizzy. The sheer power radiating from under her only heightens the high the cowgirl is experiencing, the adrenaline coursing through her veins with the same speed as her horse is turning. After the rapid pirouettes, Meadow breaks off the maneuver on cue in the dead center of the arena, facing the judges. The cheering and whistling crowd almost overrules the dying sound of the guitar strings that are the last notes of the freestyle. Unable to comprehend what just happened, Y/N drops the reins, spreads her arms and folds them around her horse’s neck. Overcome with emotion she hugs her four-legged friend, without words thanking her for the ride of her life.

      Only then the cowgirl realizes the roar coming from the spectators, many of them having risen to their feet. As the commentator praises her performance, she circles Meadow back toward the exit of the ring, waving at the enthusiastic kids on the first row. In that four minute run, Y/N and Meadow have stolen the hearts of everyone who is here to witness the definition of horsemanship. She can’t stop herself from smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt while her horse walks along the bleachers, the mare looking at the applauding audience, seeming to understand that it’s for her. 

     As they approach the gate, the rider hears one girl squeal above all others. Y/N hasn’t even looked in the direction of where the sound came from, but she already knows it’s Jo. Dancing on her feet in absolute delight, she meets her by the fence and high fives her best friend.      “God damn, Sis! You rocked out there!” she exclaims, patting Meadow on her neck as well.

     Y/N laughs full heartedly at her giddy friend, the ecstasy of her perfect run still in full effect. But when her gaze meets Dean’s, that happiness becomes overwhelming. The handsome cowboy is waiting for her, just like he promised. Gleaming eyes match his sly smirk, but there’s more to the expression, sentiment swimming in his emerald greens. The sight of him breaks something inside of her, and she’s unable to keep the tears at bay.

     It’s then that Meadow halts, and just outside of the main arena, Dean steps towards his girl and pulls her into a hug. With her left hand still holding the reins, Y/N embraces the man who she owes so much gratitude. After all, if it wasn’t for him, the freestyle wouldn’t have turned out remotely as good, not to mention that the stress would have done her in. Today he was more than just a trainer or her boyfriend. He was the anchor that kept her grounded, the rock that wouldn’t budge when the waves crashed against her, and the sign that she needed to get out of the maze of self-doubt.      She can feel Dean nuzzle his nose into her hair. “I’m so damn proud of you,” he whispers, words only meant for her to hear.      Moved by his words, she hugs him a little tighter before she lets him go and wipes away her happy tears. A smile that reaches his ears is still there when she pulls herself together again.      “She - she was absolutely amazing,” Y/N stammers, combing her fingers through Meadow’s mane. “The feeling she gave me… I can’t explain it. It was like we were flying.”      “That’s because you were, Amelia Earhart,” Jo quips, clearly over the moon for her friend. “Want me to cool Meadow down so you can wait here for your score?”

     Y/N nods, feeling her horse’s flanks expand rather rapidly every time the large animal inhales; she really gave it her everything. Once the cowgirl has both feet planted on solid ground, she scratches the mare’s favorite spot behind her ear, facing the beautiful Quarter. Meadow presses her large head against her owner’s chest, more to get rid of an itch than to return the love, making her human giggle. Then the rider hands over the reins to Jo, who takes the bay horse away from the commotion. 

     Still stunned, Y/N takes another breath, glancing back into the arena. “Did they call the points yet?”      Dean comes to stand next to her, gazing at the board in the corner, above the bleachers. “No, I didn’t hear anything.”      With her hands placed on her waist, she breathes in, trying to ignore her stomach, which begins to do backflips again. This time, there is not much she can do to influence the outcome, however. Meadow did the best she could and she didn’t make a single mistake; Y/N couldn’t have wished for more. But the new freestyle hasn’t been graded yet, so how the judges will reward the music and the degree of difficulty is still a mystery. The rider tries to tell herself that no matter what number will appear on the screen, she’s satisfied with today’s performance. But as seconds tick by, the suspense builds and eats at her composure.

     She can feel Dean’s hand on the small of her back, fingertips tracing soft, calming circles. The motion helps her to pull her gaze away from the digital board, and she glances at the man by her side. Focusing on him has worked so far, so as the tension rises, she tries that tactic again. The world around her stops, her own breathing the only sound she hears, Dean’s touch the only sensation she feels. For a moment, time slows down. But when her trainer’s eyes widen and his jaw falls slack in disbelief, she’s almost too afraid to look at the definite white numbers that can make or break her evening.

     It’s only when the crowd erupts that she dares to face the verdict, and what she witnesses, triggers her to clasp her hand over her mouth. Completely stunned, her eyes stay locked on the score, convinced that if she blinks, the numbers will change. She barely registers her boyfriend letting out a cheer, pumping his fists into the air and bouncing on his feet like a little kid. Her view is obstructed when strong arms wrap around her middle and lift her off the ground, but when her gaze locks on the display again, it still tells the same story of victory.

     220.5 points.

     Unknowingly, she holds her breath, her heart still beating against her chest so wildly, that her cowboy must be able to feel it too. It’s not just a personal best; it tops her old record by three whole points. She broke through the two-twenties, something she only ever dreamed of accomplishing, yet here she is. Shutting her eyes, her thoughts go out to her grandfather, realizing that she has done her guardian angel proud once more.

     Dean must have sensed that she got lost in her own head, because he brings her back down from the heavens to their world with a gentle touch upon her cheek. He wipes a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes off her hat, looking at her with so much adoration. His hand slips to the nape of her neck, his forehead bowing to gently rest against hers. Radiant light touches everything in reach, leaving what’s behind them in darkness, together with all the worries and fears. The audience doesn’t seem to be applauding the high score anymore, the wolf whistles and bellows of encouragement instead directed at the couple in the spotlight. Dean didn’t need any more motivation, his lips encasing hers in a soft kiss. 

     Closing her eyes, she cherishes the moment and smiles against his mouth when Dean uses her cowboy hat to shield them away from all the extra attention. It is in this instance the equestrian realizes something; out of all the rides that she experienced, either in the saddle or in life, this is the one that will go down in memory.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-tree here

[rapeculturerealities]

For millions of working women, the coronavirus pandemic has delivered a rare and ruinous one-two-three punch.

First, the parts of the economy that were smacked hardest and earliest by job losses were ones where women dominate — restaurants, retail businesses and health care.

Then a second wave began taking out local and state government jobs, another area where women outnumber men.

The third blow has, for many, been the knockout: the closing of child care centers and the shift to remote schooling. That has saddled working mothers, much more than fathers, with overwhelming household responsibilities.

“We’ve never seen this before,” said Betsey Stevenson, a professor of economics and public policy at the University of Michigan and the mother of a second grader and a sixth grader. Recessions usually start by gutting the manufacturing and construction industries, where men hold most of the jobs, she said.

The impact on the economic and social landscape is both immediate and enduring.

The triple punch is not just pushing women out of jobs they held, but also preventing many from seeking new ones. For an individual, it could limit prospects and earnings over a lifetime. Across a nation, it could stunt growth, robbing the economy of educated, experienced and dedicated workers.

Inequality in the home — in terms of household and child care responsibilities — influences inequality in the workplace, Misty L. Heggeness, a principal economist at the Census Bureau, concluded in a working paper on the pandemic’s impact for the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis. Without a more comprehensive system of support, she said, “mothers will forever be vulnerable to career scarring during any major crisis like this pandemic.”

The latest jobs report from the Labor Department showed that some of the damage was reversed last month as the service industry revived, nudging down the jobless rate for women to 6.5 percent, slightly below men’s. But there were still 4.5 million fewer women employed in October than there were a year ago, compared with 4.1 million men.

And according to the Census Bureau, a third of the working women 25 to 44 years old who are unemployed said the reason was child care demands. Only 12 percent of unemployed men cited those demands.

Laci Oyler has felt that pressure. Her husband, employed by a large printing company, was already working from home when the pandemic shuttered day care and schools in Milwaukee. But after two days of taking care of their two young sons, “he said, ‘Absolutely no way,’” Ms. Oyler explained. So she cut her weekly hours as a mental health counselor for Alverno College, a small Catholic institution, to five from 32.

In August, when she learned that public schools would continue to offer only online classes for the fall, Ms. Oyler decided she had little choice but to take an unpaid leave.

This month, she decided to resign.

“Work is so much more than what you’re taking home as payment,” Ms. Oyler said. “But when you look at that bottom line of risk versus reward, it doesn’t seem worth it,” she added, referring to the cost of child care combined with the possibility of coronavirus infection for her or her children.

As a licensed professional, Ms. Oyler does not expect to have difficulty returning to the work force when she is ready. But for most working women, dropping out to take care of children or other family members exacts a sizable toll, several studies have shown. Rejoining is hard, and if women do, they generally earn less and have less security. And the longer someone is out of work, the tougher it is to get back in.

Claudia Goldin, an economics professor at Harvard, said this was the first recession where the economy was so intertwined with the network of child care.

“During the Great Depression, no one cared about the care sector,” she said. “Women weren’t in the labor force, and they weren’t supposed to be.”

One reason that Congress started giving financial assistance to poor households headed by women in the 1930s, under a program originally titled Aid to Dependent Children, was so they could stay home with their children and not compete with men for jobs, Ms. Goldin said.

Only during World War II, when women were urgently needed in factories and offices to replace men who were in the military, did the government establish a far-reaching federally subsidized network of nurseries and child care centers in nearly every state. Once the war ended, so did the support.

“You cannot have a contented mother working in a war factory if she is worrying about her children, and you cannot have children running wild in the streets without a bad effect on the coming generations,” Senator Carl Hayden, an Arizona Democrat, testified in 1943.

Women make up roughly half of the country’s work force. They range from entry-level to professional, they live in urban, suburban and rural areas, and they often care for toddlers and teenagers. But the burdens of the pandemic-induced recession have fallen most heavily on low-income and minority women and single mothers.

Members of these overlapping groups often have the most unpredictable schedules, and the fewest benefits, and are least able to afford child care. They fill most of the essential jobs that cannot be done from home and, therefore, carry the most risk for exposure to the virus. At the same time, they make up a disproportionate share of the service industries that have lost the most jobs. The jobless rate is 9.2 percent for Black women and 9 percent for Hispanic women.

When the pandemic caused housecleaning jobs to dry up, Andrea Poe was able to find cleaning work at a resort in Orange Beach, Ala., about a 45-minute drive from Pensacola, Fla., where she and her 14-year-old daughter, Cheyenne Poe, had moved in with an older daughter, her fiancé and their five children.

The families were behind in the rent and threatened with eviction when Hurricane Sally ripped through the coast in September. To escape the floods, they piled into two cars, drove to Biloxi, Miss., and spent five nights in a Walmart parking lot.

Now Ms. Poe and Cheyenne, who has turned 15, are in Peoria, Ariz., living in a room in her mother’s trailer.

She said she was applying for jobs every day, so far without luck. And the bills keep coming. Ms. Poe has missed two consecutive loan payments on her car and worries that it will be repossessed.

“I’m just hoping my unemployment checks come through so my car doesn’t get taken away,” she said. “If I lose my car, I’ll never be able to get a job.”

Women with more resources are in a better position, but they struggle in other ways.

When the pandemic ripped through Seattle and compelled Kenna Smith, 37, to work from home, she initially saw one upside — a chance to spend more time with her 3-year-old son.

“At first, I thought I’d just focus on my child,” said Ms. Smith, who had just started a branding and design company, Wildforth Creative. “It was fun for a while, but then the stress was intense.”

Like many families who were worried about the risk of infection or short of money and space, Ms. Smith and her husband let their son’s nanny go. Her husband, project manager for a general contractor, worked out of their bedroom.

“I’m not sure why it totally fell on me,” Ms. Smith said of child care. “I’m out in the living room, dining room area with a whole bunch of toys strewn about, with my laptop, trying to run my business.

“I was wanting to work and wanting my business to succeed so badly,” she said. “I didn’t realize. …” She paused, interrupted by a voice: “Mommy, I want some applesauce.”

The couple recently decided to hire a part-time nanny, concluding that despite the expense, it was the only way both could keep working. (Ms. Smith’s sister is also helping out.)

From 2015 until the pandemic, women’s increasing participation in the work force was a primary driver of the economy’s expansion, said Ms. Stevenson, the Michigan economist. “It’s why the economy grew the way it did, why employers could keep hiring month after month,” she said.

Since February, women’s participation in the labor force has been falling, with the biggest decreases among women without college degrees who have children.

Changes forced on women by the pandemic elicit a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Many women worry that the changes will sharply narrow women’s choices and push them unwillingly into the unpaid role of full-time homemaker.

And the impact could stretch over generations, paring women’s retirement savings, and reducing future earnings of children now in low-income households.

“We are creating inequality 20 years down the line that is even greater than we have today,” said Ms. Stevenson, who was a member of President Barack Obama’s Council of Economic Advisers. “This is how inequality begets inequality.”

Yet there is also the possibility that the mounting pressures could create momentum to complete the unfinished project of fully integrating women into the work force by providing a system of family support — like affordable child care and paid parental and sick leave.

“I think we’re really at a crossroads,” said Julie Kashen, director for women’s economic justice at the Century Foundation and one of the authors of a new report on the pandemic and working women. “We’ve never built a workplace that worked for people with caregiving responsibilities.”

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 11)

tw: mentions of vomiting, pregnancy, miscarriage 

wc: 4.2k 

masterlist!

series masterlist!

“I apologize in advance for the way this letter is going to be. It’s going to be a mess of my word vomit that is poorly strung together and probably won’t make any sense. The pages are going to be tear-soaked and ripped, kind of like me right now. I feel tattered and torn and achy and bruised. I’m physically fine, but mentally? I’m at my absolute low. The lowest of lows, even though I should be better. I was better for a while, because I still had you. Even after we broke up I was better, because I still had coffee with you at work and we sort of started speaking to each other again. Leaving is hard, but I know with time I’ll be better again. I won’t be at this rock-bottom this forever. 

Speaking of, I should really tell you where I’m at. Physically, it is 1:36 am EST on February 15th. I am still at the kitchen table in that red blanket. The way it smells like you has gone from revolting to comforting in the last few hours of writing. My hand is aching. I have the locket on my neck and I’m incessantly playing with it and opening it to see your face. I haven’t eaten. If I did I’m afraid I’d just puke it all up, so instead I’m half way through a bottle of red and well on my way to a second. I need it. You know what the next part is, Spence, so can you really blame me?

I’ve decided to combine these next two mementos; I feel like they just go together naturally. They tell the same story and they’re both important to that said story. Grab the tissues, Love, you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Spencer did as you asked, reaching to his nightstand and grabbing the box of tissues that was already half empty from how much he had used them in the last fourteen hours. His nose was red and sore from the constant blowing and sniffling. The box felt hollow when he lifted it, and he couldn’t help but relate to it. 

“It all started a month or so after that conversation on the balcony; the one between me, you, and the moon. I felt sick. We weren’t surprised and if I’m being honest, being “careful” had taken a backseat. Don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I loved every moment I ever got to spend with you, especially in those compromising positions we found ourselves in often. I love the way you loved me, so gently, so kindly, with passion and heart. I loved feeling you love me, and you loved me often. So, naturally, we weren’t shocked when I woke up each morning throwing up. I purposely ignored the way my boobs hurt and my hip bones ached. I wasn’t surprised, but I was still terrified. Loaning out your body to another human being is scary. But you? 

It’s like you had this sixth sense. You knew immediately, before I even had a clue. Every day for a week you rubbed my back, held my hair, and soothed me. You got me saltines and ginger ale every day, gently told me to stop with the coffee and deli meats. The way you cared for me during it all made it okay, more than okay. It made me excited. I felt lucky to share that experience with a man like you. I was lucky to share that experience with you. I can say with 100% certainty I will never share it with anyone except you, because no one except you would stop at Walgreens and pick up a box of ClearBlue for their cranky, definitely pregnant girlfriend. You’re the only one who would run to the store when I couldn’t physically eat anything but potato chips and raspberry Arizona Iced Tea. You’re the only one I’d want holding me on the bathroom floor as we waited for the longest three minutes of our lives. You’re the only one I wanted to scoop me up in a hug when it said ‘pregnant’. You’re the only one I’d ever want to be the dad of my kids. That’s just it Spence, you were the one. The only one. I realize that now.”

Spencer shook as he picked up the test in his hands. It felt delicate, and sacred, like it was a relic. Actually, everything in that box felt like a relic, like holy objects that he had to cherish and safeguard. His chest tightened, but he couldn’t cry. He was all out of tears. He spun it, staring at those eight letters, remembering when he bought the test. 

It was Father’s day, ironically enough, and he had gone into the BAU to do some paperwork. You were too sick to come too; you had woken up at four to start your new-found morning routine of shoving your head into the toilet. He woke up with you, saltines and ginger ale in hand as he rubbed circles into your back and whispered ‘you’re okay, I’ve got you’ in between your gagging noises. It was good practice for being a dad, he thought. Waking up at any beck and call of yours would be similar to a newborn, and he needed all the practice he could get. 

Every morning, you’d vomit for an hour or so, chug a ginger ale, and throw that up too before falling asleep on the toilet seat, after which he’d gingerly pick you up and carry you back to bed. That morning was no different, so he felt awful leaving you at home. He left you with a note saying ‘Be back later, Salt and Vinegar or BBQ? Let me know, love you,’ and a bottle of water with a Motrin. 

You had been sick for almost two weeks straight, and he knew you knew why. You just didn’t want to admit it. Neither did he at first; he had a plan. This went against the plan you had agreed to a few weeks ago, but plans change. And for once that didn’t bother him. He was happy the plans had shifted, elated even. He didn’t know how to contain it, spending most days looking up which cribs were safest and which prenatal vitamins he should grab for you. He fully immersed himself in being a dad, before he even knew if he had someone to be a dad for.

When he stopped at the store to get you salt and vinegar and barbecue chips (you requested family sized bags of both), he wandered over to the family planning section. He decided it was finally time. Today was going to be the day. He’d officially be a dad-to-be, and on Father’s day of all days. It felt right. The universe was finally on his side. It was sunny, birds were chirping. Everything felt perfect.

He grabbed a box of clearblue and checked out, the cashier smiling and commenting, “I hope good luck is what I should say.”

He smiled ear to ear, “Yes, I appreciate that, thank you.”

The tests felt like they were burning a hole through the paper bag the whole walk home. A few times he considered not even giving them to you. He was scared for how you’d react. He was happy, but would you be? Would you cry? Would your tears be happy or sad? Part of him didn’t want to find out, but a bigger part of him needed to find out. 

When he got home, you practically ran to greet him. 

“Chips! Chips!” 

You kissed his cheeks and face, and he squeezed you tightly, but not too tightly. Just in case.  

“Yes, I got the biggest bags that they sell.”

“You know I love you? So much?”

“I know. I love you too, so much,” He blushed and watched you dig in the shopping bag, where you found the box of tests. 

“Spencer—“

“We need to talk.”

He cut you off, trying to profile the look on your face. It was half shock, but he swore he saw you bite back a smile. 

“I know,” you said, opening the box, “And I think we both know what this is going to say.”

“I have an idea of what it’ll say. Is that okay?”

“Is it okay?” You said, standing in front of him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Yes. It’s scary, but it’s wanted.”

He placed his hands on your belly. There was nothing there yet, but he still couldn’t contain the smile, “Really?”

You rolled your eyes, using humor to deflect as usual, “Don’t pretend you haven’t been trying to knock me up for months, Dr. Reid,” now he rolled his, “I’m going to go pee on this.”

He followed you into the bathroom, and then proceeded to wait for three minutes. The longest three minutes in the history of time. 

“First time?” You asked him, nestled between his legs on the bathroom floor. 

“Yeah, believe it or not this is the first pregnancy test I’ve ever taken.”

You laughed, shifting even closer to him in an attempt to have him swallow you whole, “Nah, I’ve peed on a ton of sticks.”

“Is that so?” He joked back. You stiffened, and he gripped you tighter. If he could hold you together, maybe you wouldn’t fall apart.

“No,” your voice was low and weak, “and I’m scared. I don’t know why. I’m happy, but terrified, does that even make sense?” 

He kissed the back of your head, “I’ve got you.”

The rest of the time was silent, just appreciating the warmth the other offered. You made him go look at it, not trusting yourself to be able to stand in that moment. 

“It’s positive,” He said, trying to conceal his excitement.

“Really?” Your face lit up and he lit up too, sweeping you off your feet into a hug he wished would have lasted for a hundred years. 

“Yeah, Love, really. You’re going to be a mom!”

Happy tears breached both of your eyes, “And you’re going to be a dad!”

He groaned at the memory, wishing that slice of pure bliss would have lasted. He felt so much happiness in that moment, maybe too much. Maybe we’re all given an allotted amount of happiness at birth. Maybe he only had so much happiness in his body, and he used all his happiness up with you. That would make sense, because he hadn’t found a speck of genuine happiness in his life without you. 

“When you told me it was positive, that was simultaneously the happiest and most terrifying moment of my entire life. I was elated. Over the moon. Ecstatic. Because I always wanted a baby and I always wanted a baby with you. But I was scared. I was scared because pregnancy is scary and birth is supposed to feel like breaking all your bones at once or something. I was scared because I didn’t know if I had the money to get the best crib and best everything for our baby. I was scared because our baby would have two parents with dangerous jobs that we might not come home from. It’s the sad truth of our lives Spencer. We’ve stared down the barrels of many guns, been taken and tortured, looked evil in its eyes. I was scared because instead of living in that moment of pure happiness and love, I was looking ahead, as if anything in this life is guaranteed. 

I ignored my fears, like I ignore everything I really should be looking in the eyes, and let us be happy. All I ever wanted was for us to be happy. And that was the start of when we were the happiest. 

Everyday was full of baby name lists and Mozart and nutritionally balanced meals you made for me. You fed me a lot of sweet potatoes, because “Sweet potatoes are high in vitamin A, Y/N, and you need to increase your vitamin A intake by about 20% during pregnancy.” The only problem was I hate sweet potatoes, and all I really wanted to eat was loaded nachos and cheese fries. 

Being pregnant with the smartest man in the world had its pluses and minuses. On the plus side, you knew everything about everything. If I ever felt a funny movement or a weird symptom, you knew what was going on. Because of JJ (another thing I chose to ignore). But that was also a minus, because I’d tell you my tummy hurt and suddenly you’d overreact and make me call my doctor. I’d laugh and tell you it was all okay, I didn’t have any rare conditions that have only ever affected 3 people in the history of the world. I was okay. Me and her, we were okay.”

Spencer stopped. Her? You actually used ‘her?’ You never did that. After everything happened you referred to her as ‘the baby’ because it made it less personal. If you called her ‘her’ or by the name you’d chosen, that made it real. Neither of you wanted it to be real. 

You had cried over this page heavily, the words marked by inky tear stains. He was following suit, staring at that word. 

Her. A girl. His daughter. His girl. 

“You’d give me weekly updates on how big the baby was and what was growing and changing. And trust me, I felt growing and changing. And to me, it felt like sore boobs and vomiting. Pregnancy did not make me glow, it made me dull and gray and cranky and somehow still so happy. I was happy because of you. 

You listened to me compare the pros and cons of virtually identical bassinets while you rubbed my feet. You laid your head on my belly, even before there was a bump and listened or talked to her about your day. You always got me potato chips. You removed every vanilla candle in our house when the smell made me want to hurl. You were understanding when I’d snap at the littlest things or cry at a sad commercial. You made every stomach ache and hip ache feel better, even if you did fact dump about it every four seconds. I got so caught up in being a mom-to-be that I often forgot you were a dad-to-be, too. I’m sorry for that. I should've supported you the way you supported me, through everything. For that, I'm truly sorry. 

Remember when everyone found out? We decided to wait to tell them, at least into week twelve, just in case something happened. 

“If a miscarriage were to happen, it would most likely occur in the first trimester;” you explained one day, while I had my grubby little hands in a plate of loaded sweet potato fries (a compromise). 

“My mom always said it's bad luck,” I said, “But I’m happy to keep this between us. I wish we could live in this bubble of happiness forever, Spencer.”

I still wish we could’ve lived in that bubble forever, but it popped. 

We still went to work like usual. They all knew something was up. I was opting out of takedowns and always eating. Like, always. Derek knew not to go to the vending machine without getting something for me. I sized up in Kevlar and Rossi did mention that I was looking ‘glowy’ a few times. No one asked us though, which is a surprise given the people we work with. They knew we loved each other before we even did, so I’m sure they knew I had one in the oven. 

We told them by getting a onesie that said “FUTURE FBI AGENT” on it. Super cheesy, but perfect for us. We showed up to a carbonara ala Rossi dinner with it stashed in my purse.

“No wine?” Rossi asked me and I shook my head no, “Okay Bella, okay.”

He sent me a knowing look with a grin. Classic Rossi, always the dad. 

After dessert, we stood up, clinking a class and you held me close.

“Attention, everyone!”

The whole crew stared at us, and you gave them the line you had rehearsed in the car on the way over, “The BAU is my family, and I love you all so dearly. which is why Y/N and I would like to tell you that we have a new recruit coming in February!” 

We each took one sleeve of this adorably tiny onesie and held it up, everyone cheering and clapping and congratulating us.

The boys patted you on the back, Penelope tackled me in a hug, Blake kissed your cheeks. Even JJ had a genuine smile for us. It was perfect. Literally perfect. That may be the best moment of my life. It was me and you, sharing the most important part of our lives with the people most important to us. My heart aches just thinking about them. God, they were so excited. Garcia and Derek bought me gifts. JJ gave me advice. We sent Emily a picture of me and you with that baby onesie, and she texted me everyday to ask how I was feeling. My dad was over the moon, he didn’t even care that we weren’t married. Diana was the happiest of them all. She was so excited for you to have this journey, and she told me she was glad it’d be with me. She once wrote to me that a dream of hers was to be a grandma, and when you were a kid she thought that may never happen, since you were so smart and special and different. She thought no one would ever understand you enough to love you like that. She said that all changed when she met me. She could tell I understood you and loved you. So tell Diana that I’m sorry I couldn’t give her that dream and that I hope she gets her wish of being a grandma one day. I hope you get your wish to be a dad, too. It may kill me to know that you’d be out there parenting without me, but it may kill me more if you never get to have that dream Spencer Reid. So do it. Break my heart a million times over. It’s worth it as long as you’d be happy at the end of it all.”

He sighed shakily, he’d only be happy at the end of it all if it was with you, an option that seemed less and less likely with each passing letter. 

The box contained that little onesie. He held it up, astonished at how small it was. How could a person ever be so tiny? He let himself cry into it, the onesie still smelling like you. He remembered ordering it online, sneaking it in your purse and the look on everyone’s faces when he gave his little speech. He remembered JJ squeezing him tight and telling him he’d be amazing and how happy she was that Henry and Jack would have a new friend. He remembered Derek slapping him on the back and commenting how pretty the baby would be, “You and Y/N? We may have a new pretty boy in the house soon!”

He remembered Rossi immediately finding a copy of ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ on a shelf in his massive mansion, and giving it to him with a kiss on both cheeks. He remembered sneaking to Vegas to tell his mother, how she leapt up and swallowed him in a hug. But perhaps the most memorable and meaningful interaction he had that night was with Hotch. 

He came up to Spencer separately, at the end, and gave him his own fatherly wisdom, “Congratulations, Reid. This is going to be the greatest adventure of your life, and you’re going to be an amazing father.”

Spencer smiled, looking over at you, hands all over your barely there belly, giggling with Garcia and Derek, “Because of her.”

“What?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m going to be a great father, because she makes me a great man.”

Hotch smiled and brought Spencer into a hug, two rare occurrences, “I felt the same way about Haley.”

Spencer felt Hotch stiffen, and he waited for him to finish, “My only advice to you is to not be me. If she makes your world spin a little faster, if she makes life a little better, if she makes the job easier, then don’t wait. I waited too much with Haley. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

Spencer smiled, knowing then what he needed to do. You did make his world spin faster. You made the world a better place. 

“I won’t, Hotch,” He cleared his throat, “I promised her that much.” 

But there he was now, making all the same mistakes Hotch had. He had waited. He said he wouldn’t but he still did. He poured himself into work instead of love, just like Hotch, and it led him to his rock-bottom. He was staring at a baby onesie that should’ve held his baby, except he had no baby, and he had no you. 

He toyed with the snaps on the bottom, undoing them and redoing them in an attempt to relieve stress. He could imagine what she would’ve looked like. He thought she’d be chubby, like a little michelin man with rolls on her knees and elbows. He thought her hair would be brown and curly, like his, and her eyes would hold the universe in them like yours did. He thought that he’d love her tenfold the amount he loved you, which was a lot. He wondered if when he saw her face his heart would be too full and give out then and there. 

“My favorite memory of being pregnant is that day we went to Meridian Hill Park, remember? You fixed up a picnic basket full of nutritious foods, sneaking a bag of saltines just in case I felt sick. That was one of the last days, if I remember right. It was week eighteen. I looked like I had a basketball shoved under my dress. The doctor’s said I was measuring large; the baby would probably be nine pounds. We knew she was a girl. We didn’t have some big gender reveal, we just had the doctor tell us at the ultrasound. 

You set the blanket down, helping me sit and get situated. It was mid-October, so the leaves were bright yellow and orange. You had on a cozy sweater and brought a blanket to drape over my legs. I remember eating a few apple slices and leaning on you, just admiring the world. I looked over at you and smiled. Your hair was shorter and you were sitting cross-legged, slouching and eating a sandwich.

“You know what would be a cute name for her?” You said, shifting to allow me to lay my head on your lap.

“Hm?”

“Annabelle.”

“Like from the Poe story?”

“Technically, it’s a poem, but yes.”

“Doesn’t she die in it?”

You shrugged, “Yes, but it has such beautiful lines. ‘We loved with a love that’s more than love, I and my Annabell Lee.”

Your hand met my rather large bump, and upon hearing you whisper “Annabell Lee” the baby kicked, right into your hand. 

You looked down at me, smiling, “See she likes it! Don’t you Annabelle?”

I rolled my eyes, “Must everything be macabre with you Reid?”

You gave me pleading eyes, “Even without the poem, it’s still a beautiful name. It’s of English origin and means gracious or beautiful.”

“Annabelle Diana Reid,” I said, trying it on for size. 

You scrunched up your eyebrows and nose, “Diana?”

I shrugged, “I thought it’d be nice, and that makes for a really pretty name.”

You grinned, “I love it, and I love you, and I love Annabelle. I promise I will love you both for the rest of my life.”

I like to think you’ve kept that promise. 

You kissed me gently, the sun washing over us and a few stray leaves falling, just you, me, and Anna. 

I don’t believe in jinxes or superstitions. I believe in science and facts. But some part of me can’t shake the feeling that if we picked a different name things would’ve been different. Maybe if she was an Ava or an Olivia we wouldn’t be here. But she was Annabelle. Our Annabelle. 

I got rid of every other speck of baby stuff from this place. When you were off on cases and I was at home, I filled a bag with the few things we had gotten and dropped them off at the Salvation Army. I couldn’t bear parting with this onesie though, in fact I’m having a hard time even giving it to you. But she was yours too. My favorite part of the poem is this: 

‘And neither the angels in Heaven above, nor the demons down under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the soul, of the beautiful Annabel Lee’”

Spencer crumpled the letter up. He was done reading this. He had to stop, his breath and heart rate were skyrocketing. He felt he’d been chewed up and spit out. He wanted to scream or punch a wall. His sadness forming into an angry monster that he couldn’t contain. He threw the crumpled letter across the room with a yell.

When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to flatten the paper out, “No, no, no no! Please” 

Hot tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably making his vision bleary and the letter even harder to read. He needed you. You always knew how to calm him down and he needed that now. His mom was right, you did understand him. You were probably the only person alive who ever really, truly, did. 

He grabbed his phone, scrolling to find your contact name. He didn’t press ‘call’. He just stared at the ten numbers, frozen, and allowed himself to sob. 

Part 12!

Taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings (tag isnt working) @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67​ @blushingwueen​ @peaxhyjaes​ @justanotherfangurlz​ @juniorgman187​ @mbowles23-blog​ @blameitonthenight21​ @goldentournesol​ @rainsong01​ @thelifeofadumbbitch​ @swimmingtrashwobblersludge  (not working)

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

Well, if all goes according to plan I’ll have my car paid off by the end of this month or early next month (no later than February 5th). 

And that plus my student loans that I paid off 3 years back will equal a total of $60,000 of debt I’ve paid off in the last ~5 years. 

During that time I also went to London (twice), Scotland, Italy, Florida, Hawai’i, Arizona, Las Vegas, New York, and Disneyland, and self funded finishing my AA.

And all of this required a lot of focus, hard work, sacrifice, and scrimping and saving along the way. 

Man, I’m excited to start saving that money instead of throwing it at payments. And if the world ever opens up again, I’m excited to travel again. I miss it.  

[nachtai-ish]

I Like That (Part 3)

Title: I Like That Pairing: Erik X BlackFemale!Reader Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2 summary: just uh....hide your purse aight? (author’s note: uh, ...so...um...it’s been a while right? very sorry about that but it’s here now and I already know how i’m ending it so that’s great. ...this part is written in erik’s pov cause that really helped me break the block i had on it. ...I hope you enjoy it. only one more part to go.) He knew he had fucked up. She wouldn’t even look at him and had scooted as close to her door as she possibly could. He mentally cursed himself and his ego. He wasn’t even sure why he had snapped at her so hard. What she said was fundamentally true and she had the right to speak on what she knew first hand, but it must have been the mixture of David, her being so mad at him, and the fact that her blow had hurt that had him acting up.

“Y/n, listen.”

“Erik, I said shut up.” She said looking down at her nails that were done in a french tip, something she had been doing since grade school. He remembered how her mom thought color was too ‘grown’ and that ‘young women should only have French tipped nails’. He remembered laughing at her nails in the car when she held them out for him to see, and then he remembered moaning as those same nails wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, alright.” He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face.

“You’re always sorry Erik. It never helps anything. You’re a sorry ass nigga. So what?” She finally looked at him fury and sadness in her brown eyes.

He swallowed his anger at her name calling and looked out of the window to calm down, “Listen, I know you fucking hate me, and I don’t blame you. I treated you like shit in high school.”

“No, you treated me worst than shit. You dogged me, Erik. Do you know how it feels to be beaten down by the nigga you thought you were in love with? No you don’t because everybody loved you.” Her voice had raised, he could tell that she didn’t give a shit about the mixed company they were in.

“Y/n.”

“Don’t Y/n me. I’m going to say what I should have been said, Erik. You fucked me in private. Used me like a sex toy and in public I was your verbal punching bag. And you set the tone for everyone else in high school. High school was hell for me.”

“What was I supposed to do about it? I was a kid, Y/n. I really feel like you’re overestimating my influence.”

“You were supposed to stop it, not add on to it.”

“Well I’m sorry. I truly am. I wasn’t perfect back then and I’m not perfect now and all I can do now is apologize.”

She shook her head, wiping under her eyes quickly. “It was so long ago, and I haven’t thought about it in years. I stopped being your victim a long time ago Erik….it’s just this reunion has brought up so many memories.” She took a deep breath and exhaled looking at him again. “I’m sorry too. I’ve been acting like a child.”

“Yes you have.” He joked, laughing when she shot a scowl his way. “I’m kidding. I understand your anger. I really do. It’s not right how I treated you, and if any man treated my daughter like that I’d kill him with my bare hands.”

“Your daughter? You got a child?” She looked surprised.

He smirked, “What if I said I did? What would that mean?”

“That you still haven’t learned to use condoms.” She shook her head, running her hand through her hair. She looked surprised, as if that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

He smirked to himself.“I’m kidding. No kids yet. …Ain’t found the right woman…” He looked down her seated frame, biting down on his lip as his gaze settled on her hips and the thigh that had poked out of the slit on the dress. “And the woman I want to have my babies don’t want me.”

She was pointedly ignoring his blatant staring, choosing instead to scroll through her phone. “Well maybe you’ll have luck at the reunion. Remember that girl Monica? She’s been asking the facebook group if you were coming.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, “Don’t nobody want Monica. Her breath was stank.” She chuckled and the sound warmed his soul.

The best times he could remember in high school was of her and him chilling in his car outside of her house. She would sneak out the window because her mom didn’t allow boys in the house and honestly didn’t like him one bit but she would take the chances of being caught outside with him anyway.

They would sit and listen to the radio, singing along with their favorite songs, and roasting the bad songs. They would sling insults back and forth until they ended up not being able to speak from laughing so hard.                

In tough times, she would be a warm shoulder to lean on, saying nothing that might make him close up when he happened to cry. In reverse, he would be there times when her dad would flake on her again or forget her birthday, or when her mom was just being too restrictive.

It was those times he remembered, even more than the sex they shared, those times where she was his best friend. He missed that.

“Her breath did used to be a little tart.” She spoke back looking at him.

“A little? The girl used to exhale and burn off people’s eyebrows.”

She laughed then, fully, holding onto her stomach. “You’re mean.”

“I’m honest.” He looked out the window. They still had about twenty minutes until they made it to the reunion. “So, where did you meet David?”

She looked at him and shook her head. “Uh uh.”

“Uh uh? What do you mean uh uh?”

“You are not fixin to clown my man, okay? No. I’m not letting it happen.”

“Ain’t nobody about to clown your man. …I mean I didn’t know you liked light skinned men but-

“See you’re already clowning him.”

He shook his head, “No, I was just joking. Seriously, tell me I want to know.”

She rolled her eyes, “Well if you must know, we met at a conference in Arizona.”

“So he’s in business?”

“No, tech actually. He was at the conference networking. At the time he was trying to startup this app, Nozzle. It’s a app that-

“I know about Nozzle.” Erik actually knew Nozzle pretty well seeing as he had invested some money in the startup a while back trying to get his portfolio up.

However, he didn’t remember seeing David’s name in the business plan. “So, he’s still working with Nozzle then?”

“Nah, they ousted him. He had a completely different vision than the other two men and they decided to part ways amicably.  He’s actually working on a festival idea, kind of like a black Coachella but not like Afropunk or anything. That’s why he’s not here right now. He had a meeting to attend with some investors.”

Erik couldn’t help but smirk, “A festival?”

“Don’t even-“

“I bet its going to be lit. …Straight…Fyre.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore.” She looked out of the window folding her arms again.

“Wait, wait. I’m just kidding.” He pulled one of her arms down, so she wouldn’t close up on him again. “Seriously though, he does know a new festival right now, it’s not the move.”

She sighed, “It’s legit though and he has a good plan for it. Nothing too extravagant. I’ve been working it out with him, setting up meetings for him.”

“Setting up meetings for him? You a secretary now?”

“Nah, I’m a good girlfriend. Why shouldn’t I help him if I can?”

Erik looked at her and then shrugged, “I mean, I guess. But…just don’t put none of your money in it.” When she didn’t say anything, he sighed. “How much?”

It was her turn to rub the back of her neck, “Uh…just 50,000 dollars.”

“50,000 dollars?”

“We got a loan, so he could have the capital to start moving stuff and showing investors he wasn’t coming in empty handed.”

“Oh my god, Y/n. The whole reason you get investors is so that you don’t have to get loans like that or at least so you can pay off the damn loan. How much has he paid off.”

“10,000.”

“Oh my godddd.” Erik wanted to die. He wanted to strangle Y/n, in the most loving way, for being so stupid and then he wanted to kill David. “He’s fucking scamming you and probably everyone else he’s talked to. Why did he get ousted from Nozzle?”

“I told you because they had different visions-“

“Nah, that’s what that nigga told you.” He pulled out his phone. “Send me a picture of him.”

“Why?” Erik rolled his eyes and tried hard not to snap at her, “Don’t argue with me right now. Send me a picture.” When she pulled out her phone he sighed.

“This nigga is running your name into the ground and you probably don’t even know it.”

“He’s legit Erik.” The airdrop notification came up on his phone and he accepted it, getting a fairly clear picture of David.

“We’ll see.” He pulled up an app that allowed him to search FBI databases, search engines, wanted ads, and many more places by picture and name.

“What’s his name?”

“David Johnson.” She had moved closer trying to see what he was doing on his phone. “Are you doing a background check on him?”

“Nah, but you should have.” He hit search and the app began trying to match David’s photo and name to anything they could.

“I can’t believe this. You’re so fucking smart, Y/n. You graduated summa cum lade and you’re nearly running that firm you’re at. I can’t believe that you can’t smell a scammer from a mile away.”

“How do you know all of that?”               

                     Before he could answer his phone dinged, he smirked pressing the article that came up. David Johnson was Gregory Malcolm, the man who was caught misappropriating funds from Nozzle. Who was still wanted by authorities in California, New York, and Georgia.

“Is David’s middle name Joanne?” He started looking down at the picture of David being escorted out of a building in handcuffs.

“No…why?”

“Cause your man’s a fucking scammer.”

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(author’s note: just

and I hope that this part was not a total let down.) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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