#i just hope we can all leave sooner rather than later but I’m this economy god

[mcnuggyy]

I need to leave this abusive ass household, but I’m so scared of leaving my siblings behind… who else will fight for them and vouch for them and talk them through the crazy bullshit my parents say and did to us… but also if I stay here any longer I worry what will happen to me too…

[robininthelabyrinth]

Same River Twice (aka Time Travel Nie Bros) - part 4 - see ao3 or tumblr part 1, part 2, part 3

-

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, several shichen into the most awkward conversation he’d ever been forced to overhear in his life, “I think Wei Wuxian needs more friends.”

His father stopped contemplating the window with an expression that suggested he was considering throwing himself out of it and looked at him. “So you’ve mentioned before.”

“Yes, I know,” Nie Mingjue said, because he had in fact brought it up after Nie Huaisang’s no doubt unintentionally apt suggestion. “But on second thought, he needs them urgently. As does Huaisang. You don’t want them growing up barbaric and unsocialized, do you?”

His father mouthed the words ‘barbaric and unsocialized’ to himself, looking delighted. “By which you mean that you’d like to take them to visit the Lan sect, I assume?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “To learn good habits from them there?”

“To avoid learning bad habits here,” Nie Mingjue said. “Alternatively, you could always kick all of them out so that all of us can stop getting the loud and dramatic rendition of all the different types of bad decisions adults can make, courtesy of our friends in the Jiang sect and our new guest disciples.”

“…take Zonghui with you,” his father said. “Have a nice trip. Enjoy the quiet.”

There was a better than decent chance that he was being sarcastic, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to wait around long enough to find out – he saluted and turned to run away at once.

“Don’t get into too much trouble!” his father shouted after him.

That was ridiculous. What sort of trouble could Nie Mingjue get into in Gusu, of all places?

-

“Nie-gongzi, has anyone ever told you that you have really weird taste in rewards?” Nie Zonghui said, looking long-suffering as always.

Wei Wuxian, who was riding on his shoulders, craned his head down to look at him. “Rewards? What is Nie-da-ge getting rewarded for?”

“He performed especially well on his first ever night hunt,” Nie Zonghui told him, while Nie Mingjue flushed red and Nie Huaisang, who was riding on his shoulders, giggled. “His father wanted to reward him, and determined to do so by granting the first request he made.”

“He didn’t tell me he was planning on doing that,” Nie Mingjue hissed. If he had, he might’ve asked to visit Yunping City to collect Meng Yao – finding a reason to go there was much harder to achieve than arranging a simple visit to the Lan sect, which would’ve happened sooner or later anyway.

His thoughts hadn’t been focused on reward at all. He’d only really, truly desperately wanted to get away from any further discussion of Sect Leader Jiang’s sex life.

(Cangse Sanren was blunt and straightforward in her speech, something Nie Mingjue greatly appreciated right up until she was shouting things about size and shape and performance and also her husband…it was absolutely mortifying, even just as a spectator, except possibly Jiang Fengmian was into things like that because he just kept on arguing. In his past-future life, Nie Mingjue had had to sit across the table from Jiang Fengmian for years, and might yet have to do so again if he was not successful in adverting his father’s death, which was something he wouldn’t be able to if he kept hearing things like this! He didn’t want to know things like this!)

No, Nie Mingjue hadn’t thought about rewards at all – had already put away all thoughts of that particular night-hunt in favor of showing of his improvement with Baxia, who practically purred in his hands when he wielded her, so that he could win his independence sooner rather than later.

Even picking Gusu as their destination had been primarily motivated by seizing on the last place anyone had mentioned to him as a plausible destination that could be sold to his father.

Nie Huaisang had asked him, all big and wide-eyed and adorable, why they were going to somewhere as far away from the Unclean Realm as the Cloud Recesses, and Nie Mingjue had blamed Nie Huaisang’s suggestion of introducing Wei Wuxian to the Lan sect.

Nie Huaisang had also asked why they were going now and Nie Mingjue had explained in a rush of tangled words that sometimes grown-ups liked to talk about private things very loudly and maybe it would be better to leave them to it.

Nie Huaisang had found that dreadfully funny for some reason, giggling until both he and Wei Wuxian were rolling around on the ground laughing their heads off at the idea of going to Gusu –

Nie Mingjue didn’t care. As long as they went, and with them his excuse to go as well!

(Besides, it would be nice to see Lan Xichen.)

“Of course he didn’t tell you about it, Nie-gongzi,” Nie Zonghui said patiently. “It was meant to be a surprise. Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if you knew about it, would it?”

Nie Mingjue sighed. Nie Zonghui was a half-generation above him – older than him by over a decade, entitling him (if only technically) to be called uncle rather than cousin, but young enough that he sometimes felt more like a peer. Certainly once Nie Mingjue himself had become sect leader, having someone like him to help figure out how to communicate with the elders had been priceless.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to punch the man in the face on a regular basis.

Stupid sense of humor.

“Wouldn’t da-ge be happier if he could pick what he got?” Nie Huaisang asked. “What if he’d asked for something stupid, like a map?”

Nie Mingjue reached up to one of the legs currently dangling next to his ear and pinched him lightly, making his little brother squeak and then giggle again. He wasn’t sure why Nie Huaisang was still so worried about his offer to buy him a map – he hadn’t even known that the under-five age group could have a sense of financial economy, much less guilt over it, but then again he didn’t know much about kids that age anyway – but no matter what he wasn’t having any of it.

In this life, his brother would be happy for as long as Nie Mingjue could give him.

-

Of course, making Nie Huaisang happy would be easier if he wasn’t so picky.

“Didi, didi, it’s all right,” he said, trying to be soothing and not really remembering how. “You don’t need to be afraid - Lan Xichen is a friend…I’m sorry, Xichen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“It’s no problem,” Lan Xichen said, looking exactly as one would expect a nine-year-old being addressed as a peer by a twelve-year-old that his guardian routinely praised as a role model would be – which was to say, a little pleased, a little uncertain, and mostly confused. The shrieking four-year-old wasn’t helping matters, either. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend him...?”

“You’re blind,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him, tears still streaming down his face. “Blind, blind, blind!”

“No, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said helplessly. He had no idea where Nie Huaisang got these ideas into his head, was it a feature of early childhood or something? “He’s not – look, the bandage is around his forehead, right? Not his eyes. And since when do you have something against blind people anyway?”

Nie Huaisang buried his face into his side. “Stupid da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue patted him on the back. “Sorry,” he said to Lan Xichen again. “This isn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping for.”

Lan Xichen abruptly grinned, looking for a moment like a regular child rather than the polite and reserved young man Nie Mingjue had known for so many years – it reminded him a little of the boy from the future timeline that he’d only seen brief glimpses of through the pieces of his soul that were attached to the pieces of his body, the loud and irreverent one called Lan Jingyi.

Back then he'd wondered abstractly how exactly such a boy could be related to the Lan clan, stately and elegant even when they acted radically, and now all of a sudden he saw that boy staring out of him from Lan Xichen’s immature face.

“Bet you thought you’d look a lot more dashing, didn’t you?” Lan Xichen asked merrily. “Flying in on your swords, jumping down for a perfect landing, and then – waaaaaaah!”

Nie Mingjue laughed, because it really had happened a bit like that.

“Don’t forget the domino effect,” he said wryly, glancing over at where Wei Wuxian was being plied with treats from a bag pulled from Nie Zonghui’s sleeve – he’d started sympathy crying when Nie Huaisang had inexplicably started wailing, and was having trouble stopping even though he admitted that nothing was actually wrong with him other than having feelings. “They’re probably just over-tired from the trip.”

“Did you really fly all the way from Qinghe?” Lan Xichen asked eagerly. “All by yourself?”

“We made a lot of stops –”

“But you were on your own sword, right? Just you?”

“It’s a saber and I was carrying Huaisang, but yes, in terms of who was in charge of propulsion, it was just me.”

Lan Xichen heaved a sigh full of obvious envy, and Nie Mingjue smiled. “If you want, I can petition your uncle that you act as my guide to the surrounding environs as well as the Cloud Recesses itself? He’d have to let you fly by yourself if that was the case.”

“Oh, would you?” Lan Xichen enthused. “That would be great! I’m not that good yet, but I’m not going to get good if I don’t have a chance to practice, except Uncle is always saying that – oh, wait, I’m not supposed to say –”

“Speaking of others behind their back is prohibited,” Nie Mingjue said solemnly, then cracked up at the dumbfounded expression on Lan Xichen’s face. “No, I’m sorry, I won’t quote your sect rules at you, I promise, it was just a joke…”

“You’d better!”

He rather liked this enthusiastic version of Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue thought.

Even Nie Huaisang seemed to have gotten over his initial fright to start begrudgingly enjoying all of Lan Xichen’s chattering and bustling around – Nie Mingjue thought he might, given that Lan Xichen currently reminded him immensely of an extremely chatty blue-breasted quail and Nie Huaisang had always liked those. There was so much life in Lan Xichen, good humor and cheer filling him up until he was practically bursting with it; he hadn’t yet had to learn how to hold back his feelings and hide them, hadn’t yet learned that the only acceptable way to interact with others was through a carefully practiced smile.

Perhaps what was why Lan Xichen had been so drawn to Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue reflected – Meng Yao had hidden himself underneath a smile, too. Where he himself had admired Meng Yao for what he had thought was his strength of character, his ability to ignore the jibes and the slights he faced in favor of carrying on and doing what must be done, just as Nie Mingjue longed to be able to do, perhaps Lan Xichen had from the very first moment seen Meng Yao as someone in need of sympathy and affection. Perhaps it had been his own suffering projected onto Meng Yao’s open, facile face that had so tugged on his heartstrings.

It was a little odd, though.

It was a long time ago, but Nie Mingjue recalled meeting Lan Xichen when they were both quite young, and if he put his mind to thinking about it, he was pretty sure they would have met in about two years’ time – his fourteen to Lan Xichen’s eleven, with Nie Huaisang nearly six and Lan Wangji nearly seven. And yet the Lan Xichen he had met had been so very different from this, far more serious and reserved, quiet more often than not, that practiced smile already on his face and only with great reluctance melting into something real…

He wondered why there had been such a great change.

In the meantime, Nie Mingjue relieved Nie Zonghui of his duties on account of their safety – the older man had been to Gusu before for discussion conferences, and looked extremely bored – and took Nie Huaisang’s hand in one hand and Wei Wuxian’s in the other, and the three of them followed Lan Xichen around as he pointed out all the things he liked best.

Wei Wuxian broke away at one point and sped into the brush, shrieking something about a rabbit, and when they gave chase and found him again, he’d somehow bumped into Lan Wangji, who with his white clothing and solemn expression resembled nothing so much a bunny himself.

“Nie-da-ge, this is my friend!” Wei Wuxian hollered, even though they couldn’t have been talking for more than a few minutes before the rest of them caught up. “His name’s Lan Zhan! I’m keeping him forever!”

Nie Huaisang sniggered, and Nie Mingjue poked him – it was rude to laugh at other people’s earnestness.

“That’s nice, Wuxian,” he said, and formally saluted Lan Wangji, knowing how much the other boy liked rules and things being done right. “I’m pleased to meet you, Wangji. I hope we can be friends as well.”

Lan Wangji stared at him mutely for a long moment, and then his entire face slowly turned bright red as if he were boiling.

Nie Mingjue blinked, unsure about the reason for such an extreme reaction, but standing beside him Lan Xichen cackled. “Oh, oh, this is great,” he crowed. “Wait till I tell Mom!”

Lan Wangji attempted to bite him, which naturally made Wei Wuxian leap to his friend’s assistance, and somehow Nie Huaisang ended up wading into the fray with a stick that he waved around like a war-fan, seeking inexplicably to defend Lan Xichen despite having previously displayed no fondness for him at all.

Nie Mingjue waded in as well, of course, trying to separate them and somehow ending up as everyone’s target when they realized that he was strong enough to pick them all up and toss them (lightly) into the piles of soft grass that covered the meadow, even Lan Xichen, and at that point they all threw themselves at him eagerly in order to be throw back.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t really thinking about that, though. He was thinking about what Lan Xichen had said.

He was thinking about – Mom.

Not Nie Mingjue’s own, naturally. She’d been gone since he was younger than Nie Huaisang was now. Perhaps it was because Nie Mingjue had his father and his aunts and his uncles, but he had never really felt the lack of her all that much, except maybe when he needed to learn some etiquette he didn’t know or when his peers spoke fondly of their own mothers. Nor was he thinking of Nie Huaisang’s mother, who had been very nice and whose untimely death had upset him immensely; he honestly hadn’t thought of either of them in years and years by the time he’d died.

But rather, he thought about Lan Xichen’s mother – Lan Wangji’s mother –

Nie Mingjue hadn’t learned the story of her fate until much, much later in life, when he was very nearly an adult. The Lan sect had always kept their secrets very well, and he might never have learned the details if it hadn’t been for Lan Xichen willingly divulging them. He’d told him the whole awful story of how his mother had not loved his father even though he loved her, how she had killed someone dear to him, how he had married her to save her and gone into seclusion to punish himself, how the Lan sect, ever concerned with its face, had covered it all up by forcing her into permanent seclusion…

The story had never really sat right with him. A punishment was one thing, entirely justifiable; murder was murder, and life imprisonment was a valid sentence, a valid commutation of the death sentence that she probably ought to have received. It was not Nie Mingjue’s place to question how the Lan sect selected and imposed punishments…

And yet, something about it had always felt rotten.

Maybe it was only that the Nie sect didn’t believe in solitary imprisonment. Or, well, really solitary anything, with even seclusion being done in a relatively well-traveled area so that those inside could, if they wished, open a one-sided window to hear the noise and know that their family was around them. Even their tombs, their saber halls, were joined together into what was practically a necropolis – even in death, the Nie sect would rather be together than apart.

If he recalled correctly, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji’s mother would soon be taken away from them for good. She’d died when Lan Xichen was – ten? Ten to Lan Wangji’s six, yes, that sounded right.

A year from now, then. Less, maybe.

“– xiongzhang is da-ge, not er-ge!”

“No, you don’t understand, my da-ge is older – and bigger – so he’s da-ge, and your xiongzhang is er-ge, and that means you’d be san-ge, and Wei-gege is – wait, which one of you is older?”

“Huaisang, it doesn’t work that way, we’re not the same family –”

“What are you even talking about?” Nie Mingjue asked, abruptly coming out of his thoughts. They’d continued playing while he daydreamed, and now Lan Xichen was perched on his back like a monkey, with Nie Huaisang on one of Nie Mingjue’s shoulder while Wei Wuxian hung off the other arm’s bicep and Lan Wangi clung to his neck in front like a sloth on a branch, as Nie Mingjue demonstrated that he could, in fact, keep walking with all of them attached. Every single one of them seemed to think this was the absolute height of entertainment. “Who’s related to what now? Huaisang, can’t you just call Xichen Xichen-ge or something?”

“Oh, fine. Xichen-gege! Xichen-gege!”

“Nie-didi! Nie-didi!”

“Too loud,” Lan Wangji sniffed.

“Didn’t you hear Lan Zhan?!” Wei Wuxian promptly hollered at the top of his lungs. “You’re all being too loud!”

“I’m going to throw each and every one of you into a pond,” Nie Mingjue said. “One by one, if I have to.”

“Do you promise?” Lan Xichen giggled in his ear. “That sounds like fun!”

“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, “I had a different thought. How about we play hide-and-seek?”

-

The advantage of future knowledge, Nie Mingjue thought, was that he knew exactly where Madame Lan’s home was and how to get there within the time period he’d suggested for the initial hiding.

The disadvantage was that he was so focused on achieving his goal that he forgot that what implications might be taken from a twelve-year-old boy breaking into a woman’s home, especially at a time when she wasn’t expecting visitors.

“I’m so sorry!” he all but shrieked, covering his eyes even though he had already turned his back. “Please put on clothing!”

“Oh, your face –” Madame Lan was guffawing. “You’re so red – boy, you don’t have to throw yourself out the window in penance or anything. I’m still wearing my inner robe, you can’t even see anything.”

“It’s still inappropriate!”

“Could be worse. I could’ve been –”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he begged. “I swear I’m not actually doing this because I have a crush on you, so please, please, please don’t give me any details about what you do in the privacy of your own home, okay? And stop offering me your under-things! I don’t want them!”

“I was only doing laundry,” she said, almost crying with laughter. “I didn’t mean to throw my underwear at your face, it was really just the closest thing to hand…who are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be introducing yourself to me?”

“I’ll introduce myself when you’re dressed and not a moment earlier.”

“Oh, all right, have it your way. Give me a moment.” There was some rustling. “All right, turn around.”

He peeked and sighed with relief: Madame Lan was, in fact, appropriately dressed in a lovely white silk dress, adorned with the typical Lan sect cloud embroidery and everything. The style was a little freer and less conservative than he might have expected to see the mistress of a Great Sect wearing, but then again he supposed she’d never actually had to do the work associated with it. It was hard to host a society party from seclusion…

“Qinghe Nie’s Nie Mingjue greets He Kexin, Madame Lan,” he said, saluting properly. “I’m a visitor to your sect.”

“I hadn’t realized that we were anticipating visitors from another Great Sect,” she remarked. “Normally there’s a great deal more hustle and bustle involved with preparing to receive a visit.”

“It’s an informal one,” Nie Mingjue explained. ���Somewhat, uh, abrupt. We didn’t send word in advance. You see, we recently accepted Cangse Sanren and her husband as guest disciples, and shortly thereafter the Jiang sect paid us an unexpected visit…”

Madame Lan had clearly heard about that disaster, if the way she put her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her chortling was any indication.

“I think I see the issue, being as I happen to remember Cangse Sanren very well,” she said, her eyes dancing. “What a troublemaker. She even shaved off Qiren-xiaoshuzi’s beard one time! I’m guessing based on the way you turned into a boiled crayfish that she scared you out of your own home?”

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth to protest, except, well, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate…

“What a charming little egg you are! You’re such a rotten liar that you can’t even do it to save face.”

“Being dishonest isn’t saving face,” Nie Mingjue said, even though his face felt like it was burning and he was probably just as red as she said he was. “The truth is what the truth is, that’s all. You’re not wrong, that’s more or less what happened – I brought Huaisang and Wuxian here so that we could get away from all the yelling.”

“You picked a good place for that,” Madame Lan said, and there was a dull look in her eye all of a sudden. Nothing like the liveliness from a few moments before. “There’s nowhere like the Cloud Recesses for quiet.”

Nie Mingjue bit his lip, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say. Right up until that moment, she hadn’t seemed at all sick, the way he’d thought she’d be – less than a year before she died, from what he remembered of Lan Xichen’s stories. He’d assumed she’d already be ill with the early stages whatever it was that had eventually taken her from her sons.

But now, he didn’t think she was sick, not really, only…bored.

Dreadfully, horribly bored. The sort of bored that drained your life away bit by bit.

Formal training in swordsmanship and scholarship began at six at the Cloud Recesses, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. There were plenty of lessons prior to that, of course, but at age six they would become formalized, the children shifting over from the realm of babies to proper young-adults-to-be. Once Lan Wangji turned six, Madame Lan would have had nothing to look forward to in life.

Nothing, except for her children starting to drift further and further away from her: nothing to do, no purpose, no friends…

Just boredom.

“The Unclean Realm has a communal prison,” he blurted out, and then smacked his hands into his face to hide his shame for being such an inconsiderate ass. Why had he thought he could do this by himself?

He wasn’t even sure what he’d originally come here to accomplish, other than to let Madame Lan know that she ought to see a doctor sooner rather than later in the hopes that they would be able to catch and stymie whatever disease it had been that had killed her, except now of course Nie Mingjue understood that it was no disease at all.

“…what?” she said blankly.

It was too late to retreat, so Nie Mingjue gathered up every bit of courage he’d ever had and barreled onwards.

“I just mean,” he said, tripping over his words, “if you’d like to be – a bit less quiet. Even if your sentence is life imprisonment, surely you don’t have to necessarily serve it here, right?”

Madame Lan stared at him. His shoulders started creeping up to his ears.

“Actually,” she said abruptly, “I was never sentenced.”

He gaped at her. “You – what?”

“Qiren-xiaoshuzi pushed for it, said it was only fair that I knew the exact contours of my punishment, but the sect elders refused,” she explained. “They didn’t want to lose face by having a trial at all, not even privately.”

“But – but if you haven’t been sentenced, you can’t be imprisoned!”

“Is that so?” she asked, looking amused.

“You can’t,” Nie Mingjue insisted, horrified. “The laws of war say that someone can be executed on the spot for committing a crime, but in peacetime they have to be sentenced first even if you catch them red-handed. What if your accuser recants his accusation, whether because he was wrong or because he decided not to press charges? If they recant, you can’t be tried; if you can’t be tried, even if everyone knows you’ve done wrong, you still must be released. No trial, no sentence, no imprisonment!”

“Tell that to the Lan sect,” she said dryly. “Not even my husband could do more than he did to forestall my punishment, and he’s sect leader. Nominally, anyway.”

This did seem to be a problem of the Lan sect. Of all sects, really – he had his own share of old men causing issues and sticking their noses into things – but he’d never had anywhere near the problem with the sect elders as Lan Xichen had had with his Lan sect.

“Why should I?” Nie Mingjue asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t see why we have to tell them anything at all.”

-

“Why are we doing this?” Nie Huaisang asked, tugging on Nie Mingjue’s sleeve.

“I already explained,” Nie Mingjue said, which he had. He’d also explained that he’d run in there by accident while looking for a place to hide, and he’d tried to look as much like a stupid twelve-year-old as possible when he said it. “About the lack of a trial –”

Nie Huaisang tugged again. “Not that. Why are we rescuing her?”

“Because she might die if we don’t,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s very bored in there all by herself.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? It’d make Xichen and Wangji sad if she died.”

“So?”

“So they shouldn’t be sad if they don’t have to be! I don’t want them to be sad because they lost a parent…don’t you remember being sad about your mom having died, Huaisang?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “I had da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. He’d keep this conversation in mind for later when Nie Huaisang was old enough to actually understand the concept of death, and then he’d use it to torment him forever.

“Wouldn’t you be sad if da-ge died, then?” he asked, and felt Nie Huaisang’s hands abruptly clutch tight on his arms. “There you go. That’s why we’re doing this.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, but he was still scowling a little in his adorable childhood way, and Nie Mingjue thought for a second that he heard him murmuring something about inviting unnecessary trouble under his voice, but…whatever, it wasn’t important.

What was more important was that Lan Xichen had arrived with what Nie Mingjue had asked him to fetch for him, his cheeks bright pink with excitement. “Nie-da-ge,” he hissed even though there wasn’t anyone in the area, thrusting the package into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “I got it!”

“Good,” Nie Mingjue said, then paused. “Er, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind? Mind what?”

“That I’m kind of, uh, well – I mean, I’m kidnapping your mother. You won’t be able to see her as often as you do now if this works…”

“She’ll be free,” Lan Wangji, trailing behind Lan Xichen as always, said solemnly. Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth, which somewhat ruined the effect.

Wei Wuxian, who’d rushed over to stand next to him as soon as he’d seen him, hugged him tightly. “You’ll come over all the time,” he assured him. “My mom will like your mom, and we’ll all go outside and play all the time. We’ll be really happy!”

Lan Wangji sniffed and buried his face into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

“It’s like Wangji said,” Lan Xichen said. His eyes were intense. “She’s not happy here, she’s not free here, and we only see her once a month anyway – less, in the future, once we’re both busy with lessons all the time. If she can be free somewhere else…you will let us come visit, right?”

“As often as you’re allowed,” Nie Mingjue promised, as it was about all he could do. “I’ll talk to my father about it…”

His father would probably have a fit.

Still, this was an injustice. Even if his father disagreed, it was something he had to do. He’d justify it with reference to their sect principles, and take any punishment duty his father chose to impose.

“It doesn’t matter, he’ll agree,” he said firmly. “You’ll definitely be able to visit.”

“Can I raise an objection?” Nie Zonghui said mournfully from where he was hovering by the side of the clearing. “Possibly two – no, three objections.”

Nie Mingjue looked at him and tilted his head to the side in silent question.

“One, your father said not to get into trouble, if you’ll trouble yourself to remember back that far,” he said, raising a finger. “Two, how exactly do you plan to break the array keeping Madame Lan imprisoned? And three, even if you do break it, how do you plan to get her out?”

The first was irrelevant. The other two…

“We’re going to walk out the front gate,” Nie Mingjue said, and opened up the package Lan Xichen had gotten him – as he’d suspected, there had been spare robes for Qinghe Nie disciples left behind from the previous discussion conference, and sure enough the Lan sect had kept hold of them as a courtesy to the owners. “The Lan sect has never affirmatively stated that Madame Lan wasn’t allowed to leave; they just said she was too sickly to do so. Therefore, if we leave with a Nie sect disciple who is clearly capable of walking out, there’s nothing they can do to stop us without admitting that it’s her and that she’s a prisoner – which they won’t do, because then they’d lose face.”

“That barely counts as a plan,” Nie Zonghui said, and for some reason Nie Huaisang nodded in agreement. “But sadly I think it might actually work.”

Nie Huaisang looked betrayed.

“It will work,” Lan Xichen said. “Especially if you insist that she’s one of yours. They won’t be able to call you out without calling you a liar, and they wouldn’t want to do that. Not publicly, not about this.”

“Won’t there be a problem that she’s a girl wearing boy’s clothing?” Wei Wuxian asked, patting Lan Wangji’s head.

“No, that’s not a problem in Qinghe,” Nie Huaisang told him. “You’re new, so you’re not used to it, but it really isn’t. I mean, she could be misaligned or something, it’s not our business.”

“And we won’t be lying about her being one of ours,” Nie Mingjue said. “Since I’ve offered her sanctuary in our sect, it’s even technically true.”

Nie Zonghui sighed. “And if they ask Lan-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi if she’s their mother?”

“Wangji won’t say anything,” Lan Xichen said at once. “And I’ll – I’ll lie if I have to.”

He was truly unbearably cute at this age.

Nie Zonghui appeared to be suffering from a similar problem, reaching over and patting him lightly on the head in helpless amusement. “Okay, okay. Let’s hope they don’t ask,” he said. “But – Nie-gongzi, we still have the second problem. How do you intend to get Madame Lan out of the imprisonment array?”

Nie Mingjue patted his cousin – who he knew from his future experience was one of the finest array breakers in their sect, a charming side-effect courtesy of his dual-wielded saber cultivation style – on the shoulder. “I intend to delegate.”

Nie Zonghui blinked, then glared. “I walked myself into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Nie Mingjue said peaceably. “Can you break it? I can use Baxia, if it’ll help.”

“Hmph. Yes, it would help a great deal, but will she agree to consume an array for you? That’s fairly high-grade work, and talent or no talent, you’re still fairly new to mastering the saber.”

Nie Mingjue put his hand on Baxia’s blade, which felt warm and pleased. Practically purring. At some point he would need to investigate why she was so happy all the time – she’d never been this compliant in his first life, and he’d expected her to be more vicious, not less. “Yes, she’ll be happy to help.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” Nie Zonghui paused briefly. “Also, if your father asks, you held Baxia to my throat and made me do it. It was definitely not me being curious about whether or not I could break such a complicated array.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Nie Mingjue said understandingly, and drew Baxia. “All right. Let’s go get ourselves banned from the Cloud Recesses.”

[cnprcertification94]

Condition of the Pharmaceutical Sales Occupation Market

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[cnprtraining3]

Condition of the Pharmaceutical Sales Occupation Market

Allow me to reveal to you something you definitely know - The economy Smells! It is influencing everybody from handymen to CEO's. The normally downturn confirmation pharmaceutical market has been laying off left and right! As a pharmaceutical sales spotter, I'm immersed day by day with top skilled sales experts that have solid sales numbers, strong hard working attitude, and phenomenal sales capacity yet wind up without a task in view of the current monetary environment. I'm here to help you! Regardless of whether you are a prepared pharmaceutical sales proficient or simply attempting to break into pharmaceutical sales, the work market for pharmaceutical reps can and will improve!

Here's the circumstance in it's most straightforward structure: Large pharmaceutical organizations employ a huge load of individuals when the economy is acceptable. I live in Kansas City. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there were a few major pharma organizations that had somewhere in the range of 3 and 5 reps in my city alone! These reps worked in POD's, which means - they conveyed similar items and approached similar specialists, simply on an alternate week! Along these lines, when the economy goes South, the pharmaceutical market remedies itself from the overhiring when the economy was strong. So here come the cutbacks, rebuilding, realignments, scaling down... whatever trendy expression you need to use to clarify the smoothing out of the sales power and take the 5 reps in Kansas City down to 2. The uplifting news is this: The economy WILL pivot and sooner than later. The pendulum will swing back. We simply must be somewhat tolerant.

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In the event that you are attempting to break in to pharmaceutical sales, don't surrender! I actually trust it's anything but an incredible decision for a vocation. It's an extremely remunerating position. It permits you to help individuals, offer to amazingly proficient clients, and bring in some beautiful darn great cash for sure!

Brad Wallis has 12 years of involvement with pharmaceutical sales enlisting. As a claim to fame pharmaceutical sales delegate, Brad is a 4 time President Club victor. As an enrollment specialist, Brad has helped more than 200 pharmaceutical sales delegates discover new professions with top pharmceutical organizations all over the country.

[hutchhitched]

Too Familiar (Part 9)

Hey, all y’all! The penultimate chapter is finally here! Only one more and the epilogue to go until this story is complete. Thanks to all of you who are following this story on here or AO3. For those of you reading it on tumblr, the rest of the story can be found here. I love hearing from you, so feel free to send me your thoughts. Look for the next chapter in late May or early June. I’ll do my best to post it sooner rather than later. You’ve all been so patient and understanding about my absent muse, and I appreciate it more than you know.

Trigger warning: mature themes (including infidelity and infertility).

______________

 “I don’t think that went very well,” Katniss whispered in Peeta’s ear, which made him snort.

 “I think that’s an understatement,” he chuckled in a deep chested rumble that made her knees weak. “I don’t care, though. You’re here with me, and that’s really all that matters. It’s all I want.”

 They were at the Mellark house after an incredibly awkward ride home from the airport. In bed in the guest room of his parent’s house, Katniss relived the moment when Peeta broke the news that he and Katniss had married the week prior.

 “She’s your what?” Mrs. Mellark screeched. If Katniss could have recorded the reaction of every single person in the airport, she would have.

“My wife,” Peeta insisted. “Mom, Dad, this is Katniss. We got married last week. Oh, and we’re pregnant. Congratulations! You’re going to be grandparents again.”

“Your mom turned the most horrific shade of green. I thought we might lose her there for a minute.”

 “Oh, but she pulled through,” he quipped wryly. “And she managed to give us both frostbite on the ride home.”

 “I’m still freezing.”

 “Oh, really?”

 “Uh huh.”

 “It just so happens that I know a good way to generate body heat. Something that involves being really, really naked,” he said as he bit her neck and made her giggle.

 “We can’t. They’re just down the hall. They’ll hear us.”

 “Who cares? I really don’t think they can dislike us anymore than they do right now. Besides, I want to make love to my wife. It’s been a rough day.”

 “Poor baby. Poor, poor thing.”

 He shut her up then with his mouth and his hands and his body, and Katniss wished they could stay that way forever, shut away from everyone and in love and expecting their baby and not worrying about his family or hers or his ex-wife or son who might grow up to hate him. As he moved inside her, she let herself imagine how it would have been if she’d met him first; if there had been no Madge; if she’d been able to marry her soulmate without all the pain and hurt and devastation left in the wake of them finding their way to each other.

She was still melancholy the next morning when she woke, wrapped in Peeta’s arms and nervous about interacting with his family. She needn’t have worried. The Mellarks were unfailingly polite, although there was nothing warm about the way they interacted with their son or her. She lost track of the number of times Mrs. Mellark sighed like she’d been personally affronted by Peeta’s presence. His parents chatted with his brothers, who had also been lukewarm at best and frosty at worst when meeting her. His mother made it clear she disapproved of everything about their lives, and Madge came up more than once as the paragon of womanhood, motherhood, and sainthood. Katniss bit her lip and kept her mouth shut. If she were honest with herself, she still kind of felt like she deserved the treatment.

 “What is it about Madge that makes your mom have such a hard on for her?” Katniss asked in frustration once the holiday celebration had passed and they were back in the guest room. Unwilling to wait until the morning, she packed her suitcase and laid out the clothes she needed for the next day. She didn’t want anything to delay their departure in the morning. She’d never been quite so uncomfortable in her life—except maybe the day Peeta’s ex-wife showed up on her doorstep wanting to talk. She still hadn’t told Peeta about that, and she wasn’t sure if that was wise or not.

 “Madge’s family has considerable influence in this region. It’s Virginia. There’s power in old money and politics and name recognition,” Peeta explained. “My mom always imagined that one of her sons would go into politics, become something important, thereby giving her a little status. I was a huge disappointment when I became a social worker. She’s never really forgiven me, but at least being Madge’s husband was something.”

 “Madge comes from money,” Katniss mused. “I had no idea. Although, now some of what she said made sense.”

 “Some of what who said?” he asked, and Katniss clapped her hand over her mouth. He narrowed his eyes at her and demanded, “Spill it.”

 “It’s nothing,” she insisted, but it was clear he didn’t believe a word of it.

 “It’s clearly not. Tell me.”

 “Why are you so irritating?”

 “Pure talent, according to my mother. Stop deflecting, and tell me what happened.”

 Katniss screwed her eyes shut and closed her suitcase before turning to face him. When she opened them, Peeta looked like he could blow a gasket if provoked.

 “Madge showed up at my place a couple of weeks ago.”

 His face went purple, and he cursed vehemently and loudly enough that she winced. “That is not fucking okay,” he growled and yanked his phone out of his pocket. He dialed and had the phone to his ear before Katniss could stop him.

 “Peeta, don’t,” she begged, but it was too late.

 “What the fuck to you think you’re doing?” he asked, his tone scathing. She’d never seen him so furious, and it scared the hell out of her and also turned her on a little bit. Clearly, she had issues. “Leave Katniss alone. No, I don’t care if you think you should have a say in this. You don’t. My kids are my top priority. You will not interfere in the rest of my life. Yes, I said kids.”

 Katniss blanched as Madge’s voice rose enough that she could hear it from several feet away. Their pregnancy wasn’t exactly his ex-wife’s business, but Katniss guessed everyone would know soon enough. The birth of their child would end up impacting Elam, whether they meant for it to or not. Madge had every right to be concerned about her own son. Still, Peeta had every reason to be furious about what his ex-wife had done.

 “No happy endings,” she muttered as her husband screamed at his ex-wife.

 “Well, that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do on a holiday, but seriously. Fuck!” Peeta said after ending his phone conversation.

 Katniss just shook her head. There wasn’t really anything else to say, so they went to bed, slept fitfully, and were on their way early the next morning.

 “I always forget how close West Virginia is when I’m at my parent’s,” Peeta laughed once they were finally in the rental car and headed to her hometown. His family had offered chilly farewells with no hint at future visits or well-wishes or questions about the baby. Both were relieved they’d fulfilled their duty and could leave the Mellarks and go see Katniss’ sister and mom.

 “So close, and yet so far away,” she mused, unable to reconcile the affluent area where Peeta grew up to the squalor of the mining town in which she was raised. “It’s amazing we didn’t meet when we were younger.”

 He didn’t seem to notice her sarcasm and smiled at her as he steered the car further west. The rolling hills of western Virginia gave way to the small mountains of West Virginia as they drove and talked and shared their hopes for the future.

 “You know I’ll love our baby no matter what, but I am hoping for a girl,” Peeta confessed. “I love Elam, love having a son, but I have wanted a daughter since I was old enough to think about being a father.”

 “As long as it’s healthy,” she said firmly.

 Before long, they were in her hometown, and she blanched at the poverty and rundown houses. Compared to the neighborhood where the Mellarks lived, her small community looked like a shantytown. She pointed out some familiar haunts, places where she and her sister and her best friend had raised hell and stoked the flames of teenage rebellion. Peeta seemed particularly interested in the mine entrance, but Katniss offered only monosyllabic answers. Remembering her father’s death still hurt, even after two and a half decades. In a few minutes, they were through the old part of town, affectionately referred to by locals as the Seam, and into the recently incorporated section where her mom and sister lived. For the millionth time, Katniss wondered why either of them stayed instead of moving somewhere with a better economy and more opportunities.

 Peeta received a much warmer reception from her family than she had from his. She wasn’t necessarily surprised by that; she was the “other woman,” and he was the man who saved her from being an old maid—not that her mom or sister would ever say that to her, but somehow it had always seemed implied. Katniss wondered if that was her own insecurity that made her feel that way, or if her family believed it too, whether consciously or subconsciously. Prim’s husband was cordial, but he tended to keep to himself. Her sister’s children, two nieces and nephew, were excited to see her again, but it had been so long since she’d visited, they barely remembered her. She knew her family loved her, but she felt a bit like she was estranged, even though they were in the same house.

 As the family sat down to dinner, her mother asked the question Katniss had been dreading. At least her sister already knew.

 “So, this was a quick wedding. You couldn’t have delayed it a bit so Prim and I could celebrate with you?”

 Katniss flushed, her face hot with embarrassment. Peeta reached over and threaded his fingers through hers, a gesture of solidarity she clung to with gratitude. She took a long drink before she was able to speak, and then it was with a shaky voice.

 “It seemed important to do it quickly and simply instead of making a big deal out of it,” she said quietly, hoping maybe that would be enough to stave off any more questions. She should have known better.

 “It’s your wedding, Katniss,” her mother admonished. “I know you don’t generally like a fuss over anything, but why not for this? How long were you engaged?”

 “A week,” Peeta offered, an attempt at his usual charming grin looking more like a grimace than anything else.

 Mrs. Everdeen put her fork down and stared at Katniss in disbelief. Prim leaned back in her chair, and Katniss didn’t miss the look her younger sister exchanged with her husband. Clearly, Prim had told him why Katniss and Peeta married quickly.

 “A week?!”

 “Mom—”

 “A week, Katniss?” her mother snapped. “Is this—? Are you—? Katniss Everdeen— Mellark— Whatever! What is going on?”

 Katniss twirled the gold band on her ring finger, her wedding band Peeta had placed there only a week prior, and shrugged. There was nothing she could say that would lessen the disappointment she knew would come with the announcement, so she shot her husband a rueful smile and kept her eyes locked with his while she spoke.

 “Peeta and I are, uh…”

 Her husband cleared his throat and came to her rescue. “Katniss and I are expecting. Congratulations! You’re going to be a grandmother again. We’re just now in the second trimester, and we are thrilled. I can’t wait to be a father again. Especially with her.”

 If the air hadn’t all been sucked out of the room, Katniss’ heart would have melted at his words. It was a perfect attempt to explain their situation and his devotion to her, but she knew exactly what everyone else had heard.

 “You’re… You’re expecting?” Mrs. Everdeen asked in a hoarse voice.

 “Yes,” Katniss whispered, her face bright red.

 “And you…” Her mother shifted her gaze to Peeta and struggled to get out the next words. “You’re going to be a father? Again? Again?”

 “Peeta’s been married before, Mom,” she tried to explain. “He has a son—a young son. His ex-wife and he share custody.”

 Katniss held her breath, but there was no stopping this train wreck.

 “How old is your son?”

 “He’s four.”

 “And you two have been together for…” Her voice trailed off, and she snapped her mouth shut.

 Prim shot a sympathetic look at her sister, and Katniss smiled gratefully. “We’ve been together four years, Mom.”

 Her mother’s face went blank, and she didn’t ask any more questions. Katniss wanted to sink under the table. As many issues as she had with her mother, the last thing she wanted to do was to be a disappointment.

 Several hours later, Katniss lay in Peeta’s arms. He held her tightly as her shoulders shook with silent sniffles. The rest of the meal had descended into awkward fits of conversation interspersed with silence. Prim and her family did their best to keep things running smoothly, but Katniss was simply too tired to try to make more of an effort.

 “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay,” Peeta murmured against her temple, forehead, hair, and every other inch of her he could access. His hands rubbed up and down her arms, but she was too upset to register the gesture.

 “It won’t,” she sobbed.

 “Katniss Everdeen Mellark, look at me,” he demanded, and she raised haunted eyes to his. “I love you.”

 His hand slipped under her waistband.

 “I love you,” he said quietly.

 His fingers grazed the curly hair at the juncture of her thighs, and he licked his lips.

 “I love you.”

 His finger slid between her legs, and she opened for him.

 “I love you.”

 She sighed as his finger slipped inside her and his thumb worried her clit.

 “I love you.”

 This time he punctuated his devotion with a deep kiss, and she breathed in return, “I love you, too.”

 One turned into two and then three. Katniss gripped him inside her, her eyes rolling back in her head as he curled and rotated his fingers to find spots that made her want to scream. She bit her lip and moaned softly, careful to stay as quiet as possible. No need to broadcast their activity to the rest of the house.

 “You’re so sexy, honey,” he whispered in her ear. “I love the way you clench around me.”

 “Fuck,” she gasped. “I love it when you…”

 Her back arched off the bed when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he began to thrust in and out a little rougher.

 “Love it when I talk dirty to you?”

 She nodded. “Make it filthy.”

 His mouth grazed her earlobe, and he let forth a torrent of words that made her writhe against him.

 “I love your hot pussy, Kat. You’re my pussy. Petting you. Stroking you. Licking you clean.”

 “Peeta,” she groaned in response.

 “When we get back home, I’m gonna eat your pussy so hard, and then when you’ve given me a facial with your cum, I’m gonna fuck your ass with my tongue and make you go again. Make you sit on my face and bounce up and down on me. Make you beg and scream. Fucking jack off on you until you’re covered from your cunt to your face. Rivers of it running down your tits.”

 “More,” she begged, breathless. “Tell me more.”

 Peeta curled his fingers inside her, and she lost herself in her orgasm. He echoed in her head; his sweet voice speaking filthy obscenities that made her toes curl and her mind sink to new levels of depravity. It wasn’t like they were the most vanilla couple in the world. They’d already tried plenty, but the things he suggested made her want to go to confession—and she wasn’t even Catholic.

 He worked his magic on her for a long time, helping her forget the problems outside of them. No matter what, they were united, a force against the world, ex-wives, disappointed parents, disproving siblings, and snarky friends. When he’d finger fucked her until she thought she’d die, he slid between her legs and ate her out until she squeezed her thighs tight around his face and bucked into his tongue.

 “Did you bring lube?” she asked, her voice raspy and frantic.

 “Yeah, but Kat—you’re dripping wet. We don’t need it.”

 “Can you be quiet? Please?” She sounded desperate, and she was. She needed him inside her. Back there.

 “As a mouse,” he promised.

 She gave him a searing kiss and then rolled over onto her stomach and spread her legs wide. He wasted no time in crawling up her back. His chest pressed against her, and she buried her face in the pillow to muffle her enthusiastic agreement with everything he did. Peeta slicked his cock with the moisture between her legs. When he was thoroughly wet, he spread her cheeks and pushed. Katniss screamed into the pillow as he stretched her so tightly, she felt like she’d split in two. He tugged her hips upward so her ass was tight against his pelvis, and he could slide deeper into her.

 Peeta kept his word. He stayed almost entirely silent except for harsh, uneven rasps of breath. At least he did as far as she could tell while being fucked in the ass. He didn’t spare her anything. Just when she thought he was on the verge of quitting, he shifted their position just slightly enough to make it feel like they’d started all over again.

 Heat pooled in her gut, building again, and tears started to fall. She was so wrung out, so exhausted and scared, so unsure of herself in this moment while her husband reached down and rubbed her clit as he pounded her from behind. She started to squirm as he drove her closer to the edge.

 “Fuck,” she screamed into the pillow, terrified her family would hear her and simultaneously turned on by the thought of getting caught. Squirting and twisting under him, she lost it. She thrashed and wept, emotional from the day, hormones, and countless gut-wrenching orgasms. She barely had time to register the mess they’d created before tumbling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 She woke in the middle of the night. Disoriented, she tried to get her bearings and registered several things at once. Peeta was draped over her, his leg heavy and intertwined with hers. She was sticky between her legs, a combination of her arousal and his leaking from her and wetting the sheets. She was also incredibly sore.

 More than that, though, she was ready to go home. As much as she’d already beaten herself up about what she and Peeta had done, she didn’t want to hear it more from anyone else. They’d made mistakes, but it was time to build something good since they were finally married. She was ready to get back on her own turf and find someplace that was theirs. She wanted to prepare for their child and introduce Elam to the concept of them as a family, that she was his dad’s wife now and that he’d soon have a younger brother or sister. There was so much to do, and Katniss suddenly wanted to leave behind everything that wasn’t geared toward creating a new life for them.

 And fuck anyone who tried to tell her she needed to keep paying penance for the affair.

 Thankfully, Peeta agreed when they both woke the next morning. Prim was upset they wouldn’t have more time together, but Katniss made her promise to come visit as soon as she could take some time off from her job. Her sister needed a vacation, and she hadn’t taken one in much, much too long other than the week they’d spent together a few months prior. Katniss called the airline to change their tickets, and Peeta drove them as quickly as possible back to the airport, where they caught a flight and returned home. The change fee was ridiculous on the airfare, but it was worth every penny. With a relieved sigh, she unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside the familiar surroundings.

 The next several weeks passed rapidly. Her stomach stretched and grew as their baby developed. Constant tiredness gave way to bone-deep exhaustion and nightmare-laden sleep. Madge and Elam, Peeta’s parents, her mother, Prim, and her sister’s family all made appearances. Elam was there too, and Peeta even haunted her dreams while Katniss struggled to find an escape from the fear she had of bringing a child into a world that seemed so often unforgiving and full of pain and failure.

 In reality, Elam accepted the new arrangement with the ease of a young child who recognized the ever-changing nature of the world. During the rest of the pregnancy, Peeta doted on her even more than he already had, especially after they found out they were having a girl. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he sat in the doctor’s office and received the news. His eyes shone, and he swiped at the moisture on his face. When she asked him if he was okay, he gripped her hand and couldn’t speak.

 After they learned they were having a girl, Katniss noticed a distinct lack of interest in sex with her husband—something she hadn’t experienced for more than a few hours since they’d first admitted how they felt about the other. Hoping it was a passing phase of the second trimester, she faked it a few times and then begged off a few after that. She apologized, somewhat jokingly, to him more than once about not having any strange sexual cravings during each trimester. She wondered if what they’d done at her mother’s house had sated her for months. It wasn’t that they weren’t intimate at all, but the passion between them cooled considerably as her due date approached. She was simply too big to feel sexy, and Peeta had almost lost a hand when he’d tried to get her in the mood during her thirty-eighth week. She didn’t want to admit the relief she felt when he stopped initiating contact.

 “Sex is off the table,” she insisted when he tried to kiss her goodnight the last evening in her old place. She laughed when he seemed just as thankful as she was that they could fall asleep without even attempting to have sex first. Her body felt like a blimp. She was beyond miserable. They were both exhausted after packing and working and setting up the new place and preparing for a child. She did, however, offer to give him a hand job if he wanted a release. He declined, but she woke only a few minutes later when he slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he’d taken matters into his own hand.

 Four days before her due date, she woke in the middle of the night with an uncomfortable pinch in her lower back that gave way to excruciating cramps. Terrified, she concentrated on breathing and ran through every scenario she could imagine about what the discomfort meant. When the pain grew increasingly more uncomfortable, she realized she wasn’t in fake labor like many had warned her might happen. After only a few more minutes into her panicked vigil, Peeta rolled over and blinked open his eyes. Immediately, he shot up and grabbed her hand.

 “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

 She gritted her teeth and glared at him. “Do I look okay? Owwww…”

 He bolted upright. “Holy fuck! Holy fuck, Katniss. Are you… Are you in labor?”

 She screamed as another contraction racked her, and he shot into action. He hopped around the bedroom on one foot as he struggled to put on his jeans. Grabbing her to-go bag, he tossed a sweater and leggings her way. She wriggled into her clothes as best she could and waddled to the front door with his arm around her waist.

 “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” he repeated in a mindless chant. “You’re going to be okay. We’re gonna bring home our little girl in a bit, and you’re going to do so well, baby. I love you so much.”

 Katniss concentrated on her breathing and tried not to scream when her body squeezed so hard she thought she’d explode. The cab ride to the hospital felt like it took forever, in spite of her husband rubbing the small of her back and holding her hand the entire way.

 The hospital became a whirl of lights and pain and exhaustion. Hour after hour passed in labor with contractions that folded her in half until her blood pressure dropped so low they had to perform an emergency C-section. Peeta wept, terrified of losing her and their daughter, as they shoved him from the room until the baby was cut from her, screaming and wailing. She drifted into and out of consciousness, relieved to be done and unable to believe Peeta and she had a baby together.

 She woke to Peeta’s fingers threaded through hers as he slumped in the chair next to her bed. He was exhausted, his brow wrinkled and his mouth slack as he snored softly. A portable crib with their swaddled daughter sat to the left of her bed. It took several minutes, but she managed to sit upright and swing her legs off the side of the bed. Her stomach ached from the incision, but she needed to see her child.

 Her little girl’s features mirrored her own, but when she opened her eyes, they shone the same beautiful color as her husband’s. Katniss knew her baby couldn’t see further than a few inches, but it seemed their gazes locked for several seconds. Something passed between them, and Katniss fell helplessly in love. Her daughter squirmed and yawned when Katniss reached into the crib to lift her. When she yelped in pain, Peeta jolted awake and was at her side in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her, steadying her and taking the weight of their child. He coaxed her back into bed and brought their daughter to place in her arms.

 “Sweetheart, meet your daughter,” he said reverently. “Jasmine Everdeen Mellark.”

 She remembered that moment months later when she was so tired she could hardly move. She thought about the wonder in his voice and the overwhelming love she felt toward her child as she changed diaper after diaper and ran countless loads of laundry. She recalled the beauty of her baby’s innocence during midnight feedings when her breasts and nipples hurt so much tears streamed down her face as she fed her child. Moments turned into weeks and then months. Peeta and she made their house a home and clung to each other when they were both so exhausted they could barely breathe.

 Being a mother was hard, but being a stepmother became an unanticipated joy of her life. Once she and Peeta had a place of their own, Elam spent more time with his father as agreed upon in the divorce decree. The first time he met Jasmine, his eyes widened. Squirming with eagerness, he lifted a serious gaze and insisted he hold his baby sister.

 “Can you sit on the floor?” Peeta coaxed and piled a few pillows against the couch. He slid into a relaxed slouch and motioned for his son to join him. Elam nodded and crossed his legs before raising his arms in anticipation.

 “Tiny baby,” he lisped when Jasmine cuddled into his chest.

 Katniss pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a dozen pictures of her small family huddled together. All the fear and concern she’d had that Peeta’s son would resent his half-sibling faded when Elam whispered in awe, “I love tiny baby.”

 Peeta could hardly speak, but he managed to choke out a single sentence.

 “Elam Mellark, I love you and your sister and your mommies so much.”

 It seemed fitting at that point to include Madge in the equation, and Katniss felt a desperate tinge to find a way to patch things between her husband and his ex-wife. What they’d done to her was terrible, but there was nothing to do at this point except attempt to heal and forgive as much as possible.

 Katniss tried, but work and Jasmine and Elam and Peeta took all her energy. In fact, everything took all her energy. The days passed quicker than she could fathom, and it seemed only moments before her baby was a year old. Katniss put on a brave face, but she choked back tears through most of the birthday party. She wept openly when she bathed cake-covered Jasmine and put her down for a nap.

 “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Peeta murmured as she came up behind her. She gripped the edge of the crib, unable and unwilling to take her eyes off her baby girl.

 “I want another one.”

 “Really?” he asked with a hint of disbelief echoing in the single word. “I distinctly remember you yelling something during labor. What was it? Oh, yes. Something that sounded a lot like ‘fucking never again’ and ‘keep your hands off me, you jackass’ about ten minutes before your c-section.”

 “I want another one,” she insisted with tears in her voice.

 “Okay, sweetheart,” he agreed with a comforting hug.

 But they both soon realized it wasn’t okay. Months passed, but nothing happened. For a while, she convinced herself it was stress and her body readjusting after giving birth, but that excuse only worked for a little while. A regular visit to her OBGYN revealed low iron and estrogen levels that likely contributed to their inability to conceive. They counted days and spent money on ovulation kits and scheduled sex and a million other things that should have helped them get pregnant, but nothing did. They discussed IVF and numerous other options, but the stark reality was that her first pregnancy had been considered geriatric, and she might not ever be able to have another baby.

 “Do you regret marrying me?” she sobbed into Peeta’s shoulder. “Is this punishment for the affair?”

 “I don’t know,” he answered miserably. “I really don’t know.”

 Suddenly furious, she shoved him from her and stomped across the room. She knew the hormone shots she was taking were making her overly emotional and angry, but she didn’t have the strength to try to curb them. Livid, she screamed at him, “You don’t even give a fuck, do you? You already have your son. You don’t care if I want one of my own or not, so long as you have Elam and Jasmine and got to dick me when you were still married to Madge. When it’s ever your turn to suffer, you fucking bastard?”

 Shocked at her own behavior, she blinked at him as her words hung in the air between them. She didn’t even mean what she’d said, but they were out there, shimmering and dancing around the edges of the living room. Peeta stalked over to her and held her gaze as he leaned close and spoke in a deadly calm voice.

 “I’ve suffered more than you’ll ever know, Katniss. I hated myself for years because of what I did to all of you. I feel like the biggest failure alive, but I chose you. I will always choose you. I love our children more than I’ll ever be able to explain, and I love you, too, but don’t you ever tell me again that Elam isn’t your son.” He pointed his finger in her face and hissed, “Elam loves you like his own mother. Don’t ever act like he’s not just as important as our daughter. It would break his heart.”

 Katniss shivered at his fury and nodded dumbly. Peeta turned on his heel and strode toward the front door. Without another word, he slammed the door behind him.

 She stood still for several minutes after he left as waves of humiliation and regret raged inside her. She hadn’t meant anything she said. She loved Elam as much as she loved Jasmine. Peeta had never given any hint of preferential treatment to one child over the other, regardless of continued tension between him and his ex-wife. In short, she’d just screamed at him for no reason other than her own feelings of loss and failure. And maybe a hormone imbalance, if she were totally honest with herself.

 Peeta hadn’t returned by the time she went to bed. She attempted to wait up for him, but she needed sleep if she was going to be even remotely productive at work the next day. When she woke the next morning, he was passed out beside her, snoring and reeking of booze. She tried to nudge him, but she quickly realized he’d have to sleep it off. She made excuses for him at the office and counted the minutes until she could return home and sort out their disagreement. Unsure where his head was, she didn’t contact him while she was at work.

 Peeta kissed her on the cheek and nodded at her apology, but Jasmine demanded her undivided attention for the next few hours. By the time she had her daughter down for the night, she was too exhausted to talk. Without a word, she walked into the bedroom, divested her husband of his pants, and dropped to her knees.

 “Shiiiiiiiiit,” he hissed as she licked along his balls and then took him fully in her mouth. “Oh, shit, baby. Fuck, it’s been so fucking long since you’ve done this.”

 She sucked in her cheeks and bobbed her head and fondled and stroked and tore him apart. He was right. They’d stopped enjoying sex in their quest to conceive, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d lavished attention on the man she’d lusted after so much, she’d compromised everything for him.

 Katniss relaxed her jaw and throat and crawled forward when he stumbled back against the bed and sank onto it. Intent on what she was doing, she poked his chest until he lay back, and then she spread his legs so she had better access to him. She went up and down on his cock until he was almost there, and then she pulled off to replace her mouth with her hand. Squeezing him tightly so he wouldn’t come, she turned her attention to his balls and then licked lower until he mewled and twisted under her tongue. His fingers knotted in her hair, and he ground against her face until his whole body quivered. His moans and grunts shot straight to her center as he grew louder and writhed beneath her. She grabbed his right hand and guided it to his cock so they could jack him off together and then flattened her tongue against his hole. Seconds later, he came, her name groaned as he shot across his torso. She dragged their fingers through it and then straddled him. She rode his fingers while she rubbed herself. She came seconds later.

 “You know we use sex to avoid talking, right?” she finally asked.

 “Yeah, but neither one of us were that good at conversation, anyway,” he joked.

 “I still want another baby,” she admitted and was relieved when he agreed.

 But it took another year, and by that time, she’d almost given up. Peeta’s devotion didn’t waver. He loved her through all of it—even her tantrums and icy silences and bouts of sadness so dark she felt like she’d never see the sun again. Then, a few months before Jasmine turned five and a two after Elam celebrated his ninth birthday, she realized she’d missed her period. Twice. Three months later, they found out they were having a boy.

 At almost forty, Katniss struggled through her second pregnancy. The baby screened healthy in every checkup, but she worried until she went into labor that something would happen and she’d lose the baby. Somehow, she couldn’t shake that punishment was coming for what she and Peeta had done. No matter how many times she tried to forgive herself for the affair, the worry lingered. Years before she’d thought she was done apologizing, but the guilt refused to abate.

 “Momma! Momma!” Jasmine screeched one night about a month before Katniss was due.

 “What’s up, baby girl?”

 “Your belly’s so big. Can I pop it?”

 “No, sweetie. Remember what Daddy and I told you? Your little brother’s inside.”

 “Nuh uh,” Jasmine insisted with a stomp of her socked foot. “Eel-ham’s not in there. Too big. Not fit in there.”

 “Not Elam, baby girl. Your other brother.”

 Jasmine’s face scrunched tight, and she shook her head fiercely. “No other brother! Eel-ham’s brother.”

 “Elam is your brother,” Katniss agreed, “but you’re both going to have a younger brother. Your new little brother. Hunter Cole Mellark.”

 “No Hun-ner! Eel-ham!”

 “Yes, Elam, and yes, Hunter. Two brothers. And one Tiny.” Elam never had accepted Jasmine’s name since he’d held her in the hospital. To him, she remained Tiny Baby, and eventually the entire family called her Tiny.

 “Hun-ner yuck.”

 “What’s this I hear about yuck?” Peeta growled as he entered the room. “What’s this about my princess saying yuck? Come here, Tiny!”

 Jasmine squealed when he threw her in the air and then tickled her until her giggles evolved into full-blown laughter. “O-tay, Daddy! Hun-ner and Eel-ham and Tiny. I Tiny.”

 Smiling, Katniss left Peeta to put Jasmine to bed and headed back to the living room to fold the laundry she’d piled on the couch after dinner. Elam was there, his shoulders hunched and biting his lip as he folded a pile of washcloths.

 “Thanks for your help, big man. You doing okay? You look a little down.”

 “Mama Kat, will you still love me when you have a son of your own?” he asked softly.

 “Oh, honey. Of course, I’ll still love you. I’ve loved you since before you were born.”

 “Really?” he asked, and his bottom lip trembled.

 “Cross my heart,” she said gently. “The only person I love more than you and your sister and this baby boy is your father. You four are everything I ever hoped for and more.”

 “I can’t wait to meet him.”

 “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

[writethehousedown]

We've Got Time To Kill, Baby (Kyara) - Zyan

A/N: day two is here! And I decided to go to the Hurt/Comfort route. Don’t worry, it does have a happy ending. Ish. Sideblog is @dollalpaca !

Summary: With their senior year comes the typical question of ‘what are you doing to study afterwards?’ and Kiara is starting to feel stressed out as months pass and she doesn’t have an answer.

TW - anxiety and general self loathing.

When she was in fifth year, Kiara rarely saw the seniors stay through the entire evening, or just appear sometimes - legend had it not even the teachers cared whether you came or not, and sometimes not even them bothered to give classes, unless they were the assigned tutors for the internships.

She hoped and prayed that would be their case, not only because she wanted to spend more time with her friends outside school hours and live her last year to the fullest, but due to the fact that Kiara had no clue whatsoever of what to study after High School, and it was starting to stress her out. Everyone else seemed to have their shit figured out; Priyanka was going to be a primary school teacher, Tynomi would study law, Juice had already begun training for the physical education admission exam, and of course Kyne would go on to be a mechanical engineer - she had the brains for that, she’d be great at it.

As far as options went, Kiara was completely blank - she had no drive for anything, well, she did have a couple hobbies, but none of them were carreers she could pursue in college and excel at. And it’s not like she could take a year off to find out what she could do, in this time and economy? That wasn’t an option. She had to study something, even if it was just a teaching career, she couldn’t waste her time.

Her anxiety looms at the back of her mind everytime another teacher asks what are they going to follow once class ends, sometimes reminiscing when they were barely twelve, trying to get used to High School life, running around the hallways and playing football and voleyball, sometimes breaking windows and fluorescent lights with their games.

Though Kiara remembers those times with fondness, she’d rather not be reminded of it shortly after almost snapping at her own teacher because she has no idea what she’ll do and she’d prefer if he just did his job and taught them about geography.

The bell echoes through the hallways, indicating the start of their second recess and the end of another dreadful class of Spanish. Kiara somehow managed to not bang her head open against the desk everytime the teacher spoke - it’s not that the class it’s boring, it’s just so that she’s painfully mysoginistic and thinks she’s funny when she’s not.

“What did she say about an essay? I zoned out,” Kiara asks, turning to see Rita, who, unsusprisingly so, has all the class written down in her agenda. Rita cocks a brow, and without saying anything lets Kiara take a photo of everything she wrote down. “Thanks, love,” she says, blowing a kiss on her direction.

“Sometimes I think you befriended me just because I let you copy my homework without saying anything,” Rita teases, packing her stuff back into her bag. Kiara gasps, faux offended.

“Hey! You’re more than just an escape goat for when I don’t do homework,” Kiara protests, “with that reasoning, I’m only dating Kyne because she does my math tests for free.”

“The fuck you mean free? I’ve been telling you since last year to pay me in cash or I’ll break up with you,” Kyne butts in the conversation, perching herself against Kiara and Rita’s shared desk with a brow cocked. Kiara rolls her eyes with a sly smile.

“If I take you out for dinner on Friday instead of having you come over and order take out like we always do, will you forget my debts?” She inquires, fluttering her eyelashes and giving her a sneaky smile, knowing fully well she can get away with anything when she looks at Kyne like this. And sure enough, Kyne’s annoyed expression soon is replaced with a grin, accepting the proposal - only if she gets to choose where they’re going.

Rita, knowing she’s third-wheeling, rises from her seat and goes up to Scarlett - who, despite being well over 30°C, brought their set of mate - and strikes up a conversation with them and Priyanka.

Kyne quickly sits where Rita was just moments ago, scooting the chair closer and easily lacing her fingers with Kiara’s, but before they can continue their conversation, Boa and Starzy burst into the room with huge smiles, annoucing loudly that their biology teacher isn’t coming, so they can go home early. There’s a collective sigh of relief, because they had a presentation today and no one actually finished their presentations - well, except for the know-it-alls of the class, that is.

“Anyone wanna go to the park and drink mate?” Scarlett exclaims as they’re leaving, their pink flask poking out from their backpack as she trottes up to meet the girls. It takes about a second for everyone to agree, and even less time to convince the doorman to let them go.

It’s as easy as that - no one cares about what they do anymore, if admittedly half of them are eighteen already, they should know how to take care of themselves. That’s a lie as big as a house, but hey, they get to leave and come to school whenever they feel like it, so they’re not complaining.

It’s barely 5 p.m., and the sun is still shining up in the sky. April is suppossed to be the start of Autumn, but when has Autumn ever existed in the north of Argentina? Perhaps it’s global warming, perhaps it’s that Pachamama just doesn’t want them to get a break from the heat - whatever it is, they find themselves sitting on the grass under a large tree, and sooner than later they sent off the boys to buy something to drink (either alcohol or juice, they’re not complaining) because they’ll be damned if all they have to drink is Scarlett’s scorching hot mates.

“You all are just fucking cowards,” Scarlett says, pulling out their set and preparing themselves another mate.

“Just because you’ve burnt your tongue so many times you’ve lost all ability to feel anything, doesn’t mean we wanna go that same route,” Ilona deadpans, though just a minute later she’s asking Scarlett to prepare her one too.

The conversation flows easily between them, and from time to time they cheer the boys on their improvised game of football (though they do wonder where did they get the ball from on the first place) before laughing when one of them falls to the ground - which is fairly often.

“Sometimes I find it hard to believe that one of these airheads is applying for med school along with me,” Rita comments, sipping on the mate when it’s her turn.

“Wait, what?” Kiara says, turning to look at Rita. “Which one of these dumbasses is applying to med school with you?” She asks, baffled, and Rita proceeds to explain how Samuel had approached her during summer to ask where is she applying for med school, and when he found out they were aiming for the same college, he had decided they had to study together once the applications opened.

Kiara blinks repeatedly, once, twice, until she’s just blankly staring at Rita for a second longer than intended. Before it gets uncomfortable, she makes a quirky joke about being sorry for whoever ends up being Samuel’s patient if he manages to get into med school, and she sighs in relief when they giggle and move on.

It’s not that she doesn’t trust them enough to tell them about the anxiety that bubbles up in her stomach when she thinks about the future, the fear and guilt that consumes her at the thought of being a burden to her parents while she figures out what to do with her life, being one more mouth to feed in such difficult times — it’s just that, she doesn’t want to bother anyone with her feelings, so she keeps it all in, hoping it’ll eventually go away.

They spend almost all evening long together, and Kiara is thankful that they don’t bring up the future again.

***

The sun is setting when they say goodbye, and Kyne insists to walk her home - it’s not unusual for her to do so, if she practically lives in her house, anyway, but as they walk with their hands intertwined, Kiara feels a different air surrounding them. Like a heavy tension.

“Kiki?”

“Hm?”

Kyne comes to a stop, inevitably stopping Kiara too, and gives her a look Kiara is all too familiar with, making her shiver immediately - oh no.

“You’ve been acting weird lately, is everything okay?” She asks softly, tentatively, and Kiara’s heart sinks. Oh no. This isn’t happening.

She knows that technically she can confide Kyne with everything, that she’ll help her as much as she can with anything she needs, because that’s what couples do. But Kyne has always known how her future will be, at which college she’ll go and all she has to do to achieve her dreams. Between the two of them, she’s the one with more clarity, so getting her to understand her problems would take a lot of words and emotions Kiara isn’t quite ready to unveil.

So she plasters on a smile and nods curtly.

“Everything’s great. I’m good,” she lies through gritted teeth, but Kyne can clearly see through her facade, cocking a skeptical brow as soon as the words leave Kiara’s mouth.

Kyne squeezes her hand, coming closer to her. “You’re a terrible liar,” she says, smiling gently. “If we buy bizcochos on our way to your house, and we eat them on your garden, would that cheer you up?” She offers, making Kiara smile. It’s such a silly, tiny thing, but Kyne knows it always cheers her up, so she accepts, and they roam around the town to get to the only bakery that bakes tasty bizcochos, in Kiara’s opinion.

They barely speak, because Kyne knows to not push Kiara to speak when she doesn’t want to, and right now there’s not much Kiara can say without getting choked up.

It’s significantly darker when they arrive to Kiara’s house, and, naturally, her parents haven’t arrived yet from their jobs, and her little siblings are fighting for the remote - Kyne says hi to Marisa and Alan before they sneak off to Kiara’s room to get changed from their sweaty uniforms.

They settle on Kiara’s little garden, her mother’s pride and joy when Kiara was a child, when life was easier and she wasn’t so self-conscious about the economical crisis going on and money wasn’t as tight. Sometimes, just sitting there and eating any type of snack brings her memories of planting all kinds of flowers with her mother once spring arrived - carrying with it warmer days, flowers in bloom and the need to use mosquito repelent almost all day long.

She’d do everything to go back to those days.

It seems that her yearning shows through her expression, because Kyne silently takes her hand again, stroking the back as she nibbles on her bizcocho, her gaze absent-mindlessly wandering around. Kiara gives a heavy sigh before she speaks.

“I have no idea what I’ll do with my life,” she admits in a whisper, Kyne turns to see her almost immediately, giving her hand another squeeze, prompting her to go on. “Everyone has their shit figured out when it comes to their future, and I just— I don’t know yet. I don’t know what I’ll study, if I’ll study, if I’m just going to get a dead-end retail job to independize myself; I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know. And it’s starting to stress me out.” Kiara rubs her eyelids with her free hand, sighing in exasperation.

“Not everyone has their shit figured out, Kiki, that’s not true,” Kyne says after a moment of silence, and Kiara rolls her eyes slightly, but Kyne continues before she can say anything. “Really, who has anything figured out? We’re seventeen, living in a thirld world country with an economical crisis that never really leaves. It’s a lot of pressure.”

Kiara lets a half-hearted laugh at Kyne’s comment; of course she always knows what to say, how to read her between the lines.

“But you do have your shit figured out, you’ve said you’ll be an engineer since we were thirteen. Haven’t you already applied for the scholarship at UNSTA?” She asks, trying to prove a point, but Kyne chews on her lower lip and looks away briefly.

“No, not really. I don’t even know if I’ll be an engineer anymore.”

Oh.

Kiara frowns slightly, tilting her head to give Kyne a better look. “You don’t?” She says softly, wondering if she heard wrong. But Kyne nods slowly, much to Kiara’s surprise.

“I just… I don’t feel like my heart’s in it, you know? And my dad always says I shouldn’t study something that doesn’t make me happy, because I’ll either do nothing with it or end up dropping out,” she explains, and now it’s Kiara the one that squeezes her hand as a comforting gesture.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve—” she stops mid-sentence when Kyne turns to look at her, a brow slightly cocked. “Oh,” she muses when it hits her why she kept this to herself. She didn’t want to bother anyone.

Just like Kiara didn’t want to bother anyone with her own feelings.

She blinks repeatedly, before she manages to say something. “I guess we’re on the same boat.”

“Yeah.” Kyne shifts slightly, until she’s facing Kiara. “And, y’know, we could, like, work together to get on a different boat. A nicer one,” she proposes, smiling gently. Kiara returns the smile, breathing in deeply.

“I think we can, yeah,” she breathes out, fidgetting with Kyne’s fingers, chuckling bitterly. “God, we’re seventeen, we should be worrying about what party are we gonna crash this weekend, not— not what if we fail in life once High School is over,” Kiara grumbles, and Kyne giggles shortly. “We’re such idiots, too - I should’ve probably told you sooner, it would’ve made things easier.”

Kyne clicks her tongue, scooting herself closer and planting a chaste kiss on Kiara’s lips.

“Yes, probably, but you know us; we’re the bests at being uncapable to talk about emotions and keeping things a secret. No wonder why it took so long forus to get actually together,” she jokes, making Kiara laugh shortly. Her gaze becomes softer, lacing her fingers with Kiara’s as she sighs. “I still want you to promise me you’ll tell me when something is bothering you, yeah? You can always tell me anything,” Kyne says earnestly, and Kiara wonders what did she do to deserve such an amazing girlfriend.

“I promise,” she says, “For example, now I feel like these are enough feelings for one day, and I’ll much rather prefer if we went back to eating bizcochos before I cry.” Her upbeat tone makes Kyne laugh, but she still pulls her closer and steals a quick kiss from her, resting her arms on her waist.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

tags: argentina hs au, hurt/comfort

[cnprprogram31]

Condition of the Pharmaceutical Sales Occupation Market

Allow me to disclose to you something you definitely know - The economy Smells! It is influencing everybody from handymen to CEO's. The generally downturn verification pharmaceutical market has been laying off left and right! As a pharmaceutical sales enrollment specialist, I'm immersed every day with top gifted sales experts that have solid sales numbers, strong hard working attitude, and great sales capacity yet end up without a task in view of the current financial environment. I'm here to help you! Regardless of whether you are a prepared pharmaceutical sales proficient or simply attempting to break into pharmaceutical sales, the work market for pharmaceutical reps can and will improve!

Here's the circumstance in it's easiest structure: Enormous pharmaceutical organizations employ a huge load of individuals when the economy is acceptable. I live in Kansas City. I know beyond all doubt that there were a few major pharma organizations that had somewhere in the range of 3 and 5 reps in my city alone! These reps worked in POD's, which means - they conveyed similar items and approached similar specialists, simply on an alternate week! Along these lines, when the economy goes South, the pharmaceutical market amends itself from the overhiring when the economy was strong. So here come the cutbacks, rebuilding, realignments, scaling down... whatever trendy expression you need to use to clarify the smoothing out of the sales power and take the 5 reps in Kansas City down to 2. The uplifting news is this: The economy WILL pivot and sooner than later. The pendulum will swing back. We simply must be somewhat tolerant.

On the off chance that you are a pharmaceutical rep that has been influenced by a current scaling down, and so on Keep your jawline up. Utilize this chance to change your resume, get letters of proposals from those doctors that you had strong associations with, get your gloat book together. Be watchful in your pursuit of employment. The times of 3-4 scout calls seven days with better freedoms may be away for some time. In particular, keep a receptive outlook whenever there is a pharmaceutical chance in your general vicinity! Without a doubt the following position won't resemble your last. The domains will be greater, the medications not as energizing, the organization vehicle not as decent, the advantages not as extraordinary, and last but rather not least - the compensation might be less. I'm not saying you need to take the primary thing that goes along, notwithstanding, remember that the opposition for pharmaceutical sales jobs is furious! A multi month hole on your resume might be more terrible than hoping to leave a task you've just been at a half year. click for more info CNPR

In the event that you are attempting to break in to pharmaceutical sales, don't surrender! I actually trust it is an amazing decision for a profession. It's a compensating position. It permits you to help individuals, offer to amazingly proficient clients, and bring in some lovely darn great cash for sure!

Brad Wallis has 12 years of involvement with pharmaceutical sales enrolling. As a strength pharmaceutical sales agent, Brad is a 4 time President Club victor. As a scout, Brad has helped more than 200 pharmaceutical sales delegates find new vocations with top pharmceutical organizations all over the country.

[crewhonk]

Touch (1)

Warnings: idiots to lovers, they’re horny for each other— like, emotionally but they also wanna bone, complete disregard of the “language” line in AOU— Joss Whedon can pry my vulgar, angry steve from my cold dead hands, both YN and Bucky’s brains literally being ‘Error 404: Not Found’ for the majority of this thing, Y/N’s gal pals being the equivalent of horny teenage sailors, Y/N being given advice and directly doing the opposite

AN; I had to stop myself from using the word “suspies’’ in the place of suspenders because I’m a monster who abbreviates things in real life

Words: 2.5K

AO3 / TWITTER / CURRENT SERIES

________________

It was a Friday, the day everything shifted for Y/N. It was just another day in Brooklyn— the smoggy city air pressing in on all of her windows, and promising another busy day. She could look forward, however, to a few breaks today. Two, in particular— tonight, her gal friends would come over with comfortable clothes and wine and rum and would waste the night away among chatter and scandalous stories. Victoria would be bringing a new record she had yet to listen to, and it was a small treat for Y/N. However, this wasn’t the event which would pull Y/N from her pile of warm quilts and start the day. Twice a week, her and her best friends since grade school, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes would take her out to lunch on her break, and for one sacred hour, she would be able to make the world around her disappear. Now, life wasn’t horrendous for Y/N— she was a young, single woman in the big city— but between a heavy pile of papers to edit and sort through waiting for her at work, and bills due by the end of the week, Y/N would very much be looking forward to a reprieve. 

The commute was short— only a ten block stroll which Y/N took her time walking. Her mama told her that one should only need to rush when there was a need. The newspaper building appeared sooner than she would like— she had been having an intense daydream where she was winning an argument from high school that the back of her mind was not yet ready to let go.

The neutrals of the office were violently broken up this morning, due to a rather impressive bouquet of flowers that must have costed at least two weeks worth of coffee from a street vendor. 

“Jeez, who’s the lucky lover, huh?” Y/N joked, taking her jacket and headscarf off, dropping her bag behind her own private desk— being the best editor on your floor came with perks, apparently. 

The girls surrounding the flowers begun to giggle loudly, chittering amongst themselves before Gladys wrapped her manicured hands around the pretty vase and set it on Y/N’s desk. 

“It’s for you, Y/N.” She winked, taking a step back and watching an astonished expression cross Y/N’s face. 

“Wait, pardon?” Y/N gasped, excited over the idea of a secret admirer. 

“Yeah! It’s from—“ Dorothy squealed. She had had a brief stint with Bucky a few years ago, and for a while, Y/N felt horrendously jealous of their relationship. Not because she liked Bucky— no, no, not at all. Dot had just taken up so much of Bucky’s time and energy that whenever Steve and Y/N saw him he would be so low energy they would just nap together. Once Dot had been moved tot he desk across from Y/N, however, She understood why Bucky had been so smitten with her— Dot was the full package, and Y/N wouldn’t deny having her own crush on the other woman. 

“Shush!” Victoria hissed, picking the card from the bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath— two of Y/N’s favorite flowers. “Read it.”

So, Y/N rolled her eyes and plucked the card from her friend's hands, and flipped it open, recognizing the messy scrawl immediately— Bucky had an adorable knack for remembering the smallest of anniversaries between the three of you. He had always prided himself on things which he would remember  The sound of the other women giggling furiously seemed far away when she read the words. 

‘i know you haven’t had the best of weeks, so I figured this would make you smile (and maybe even blush a bit). Happy Friday, Y/N/N.’ - JB

“We couldn’t figure out who Y/N/N was, but then Dot remembered that he used to call you that when you were in high school together. Cute.” Doris hummed— she reminded you of a snake. Nothing negative by any means, just slightly frightening until you showed her that you meant no harm and provided a warm place to make herself comfortable. Doris was one of Y/N’s all-time favorite people.

“You know,” Victoria hummed, “friends don’t do that for each other.”

It had been common for the girls to tease Y/N about her close relationship with her boys, despite Y/N defending herself and saying that they were like brothers to her. 

‘That’s still legal in some states, I think.’ Doris had joked one day— it was the first day which she had actually begun to open up to the group of young women in the office. 

“We’ve always been like this— it’s who me and Bucky are.” Y/N mumbled, unable to fight the smile or heat that rose to her face. 

“We are all talking about this later tonight. One hundred percent.” Dot chirped, slinking into her chair while shooting a wink towards Y/N. “Now, move the vase a little so I can send you expressions whenever Boss speaks.”

Y/N snorted, moving it just slightly behind her pen holder. Bucky Barnes had brought beautiful, indescribable color into her life and for that, she was grateful. 

________________

“Your flowers were a hit, Barnes.” She smiled over the table to her best friend. Bucky was sat across from her, while Steve perched himself in the hard metal chair facing towards the street. Both her and Bucky had joked that he was their little watchdog on many occasions, and this was just an instance that would prove their point. Steve was always the watchful one.

“Oh good, I figured Dot would like them.” He smirked, wiping his mouth with a disposable napkin and throwing it on his plate. Steve’s attention whipped from the large (and in his opinion), threatening man who had just walked by and smiled politely at Y/N. 

“Seriously, Buck?” Steve groaned, his hard gaze piercing through Bucky. Bucky would have been affected like everyone else had it not been for the two decades they had spent together. 

“You’re doin’ Dot again?” A few glances were shot at him as a result of his crude language— Steve had always had a mouth on him, and despite Bucky and Y/N trying to keep the vulgarity to a minimum in public, Steve continued. Y/N laughed loudly at his remark, pulling more attention towards him while Bucky tried desperately to smack some sense into his too-loud best friends. 

“No, Jesus Christ, Stevie.” Bucky spat half-heartedly, a smile pulling at one of the corners of his mouth like an invisible string. 

“Then what flowers are we talking about? I’m lost.” Steve smirked, watching Bucky trying to de-fluster himself. 

“I sent flowers to our girl here. Because of this damn week.” Bucky nodded towards Y/N who crossed her legs under the table and slouched against one of the metal armrests. Steve’s smirk transformed into a knowing smile. Best friends didn’t send best friends flowers because of a bad week.

“And how much did that cost ya, Buck?” He asked, not taking his amused eyes off of a thoroughly blushing Y/N.

“Enough that my Ma would smack me on the back of the head,” Bucky mumbled, beginning to tear his previously crumpled napkin into little pieces. Y/N gasped and kicked Bucky under the table. 

“It was a sweet gesture, James. Don’t ever do it again, though— I can't have you going broke over a bunch of pretty daisies.” Y/N hissed, truly concerned for her friend's frivolous spending habits. He has always treated money like it didn’t mean much— ‘money is never an object when it comes to the people you love’ he would always say. ‘tell that to your heating bill, dummy.’ Steve would reply. He proved this to be a firm belief over all of Bucky’s relationships— from saving money to buy Rebecca that toy she’d be pining over, or paying for Steve’s stitches at the clinic. 

Plus, money was still a rather large concern— the Depression had only just ended due to the war overseas, and the trust of banks was still too low to get local economies flourishing. 

“You know what happens when people tell other people to not push the Big Red Button?” Bucky asked, his smile sending a pleasant chill down Y/N’s spine. 

“They push the Big Red Button,” Steve replied before Y/N could. God, he loved how truly idiotic his friends were— not realizing their feelings for each other and all. Steve was fine with it, now— the feelings had been there for a good seven years already, and they were practically an item by the way they were so touchy and protective of each other. They were touchy and protective of him too, just without the crippling sexual tension. 

“Okay, then keep buying me flowers!” Y/N huffed, hoping reverse psychology would work on him.  

“Fine, I will then,”

“No— James, don’t.”

“‘M gonna do it.”

“Bucky!”

_______________

Lunch was almost up, and Steve, who had just found a part-time job, had to rush off quickly. Bucky decided then, that he could manage to be late to work to walk his girl back to work. Not his girl— she was her own girl and at the very least, Bucky and Steve’s girl. For the second time that day, the sight of Y/N’s workplace creeping towards them was once more not too welcomed.

Bucky groaned playfully, stomping his foot when Y/N said her usual ‘well, I guess this is my stop’. He leaned against the wall, catching her elbow to stop her from leaving him just yet. 

“What, James.” She sighed a grin already on her face. She stepped closer to him, placing one foot between his legs and clutching the strap of her bag tightly— some would say nervously. He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, and searched for a match to light it, coming up short. Y/N pulled the cigarette from his lips and clutched it in her fist. 

“Sorry, doll.” He mumbled, sounding not unlike a child who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. 

“You can do it when me and Stevie aren’t around but I—“

“Don’t like the smell, I know.” He hummed. She rolled her eyes at his sass but hummed happily when Bucky’s hand came to play with the sleeve of her new dress. It was bright red, which was one of Bucky’s favorite colors on Y/N, and it fit her very well in all of the right places. 

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” He hummed, hand resting on her waist briefly before retracting it and shoving it into his pocket— too intimate, he thought. 

Y/N blushed as red as her dress and wrapped one finger around one of his suspenders. He had changed out of his Army greens for lunch and had made special effort to wear his braces just for lunch. Y/N had a nervousness which came about in the way she needed to fiddle with something— a pen, and mug, his suspenders. 

He could feel her finger skirt over his torso lightly, and it sent a delighted shiver through him. Y/N’s touch was a drug— and both he and Steve (maybe Bucky moreso) were completely hooked. 

“You’re pretty snazzy yourself, Jamie.” She mumbled, still bright red. She looked up at him through her lashes, and Bucky had never desired a puff of his cigarette more in his life— his heart was racing so damn fast. ‘She must have not known what she was doing,’ he thought, ‘playing innocent and coy like that. She had to know it was one of his biggest reasons for attraction.’

“Bucky Barnes!” Came a voice, followed by the sound of elated giggles. Both Y/N and Bucky broke their gaze to see that the girls from Y/N’s floor were walking in. It was Dot who had spoken, a knowing and devious look in her eyes. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing that she would be the topic of conversation for the next forever. 

“Dot, you’re looking well.” Bucky crooned— their breakup had not been messy since Bucky had refused to have it end on bad terms. They had fought, and she had broken up with him in a screeching fit, but the next day, he was at her doorstep with a thermos of hot tea. He hadn’t returned to beg for her to take him back, like Dorothy had previously thought, but to talk and figure out ways that both of them could find closure. They had only been dating for a few months, but both had fallen hard. After the conversation, they hugged for far longer than necessary, wiped tears from the others faces and Bucky had left before kissing her forehead goodbye. 

“I am well, thank you. So, you and Y/N, huh? ‘Bout time.” She almost laughed out loud at the way Bucky and Y/N jumped feet away from each other. 

“No— I— We—“ Bucky stumbled over his words.

“He was just leaving.” Y/N said, surprisingly smooth. “And I was just about to follow you in and have very serious words with you all.” She growled through gritted teeth and heat she could feel on the tips of her ears. They only laughed and winked at the two before disappearing behind the heavy oak and glass doors. 

“I’m sorry about them— they don’t—“ Y/N rushed, turning back to him. He stopped her with a hand to her cheek and a gentle smile. 

“It’s okay, Sugar. I thought it was pretty funny, anyway.” He smiled. Y/N nodded shyly before beginning to back herself towards the doors, not yet ready to look away from Bucky. 

“Okay, well I should go— oh!” She stopped herself just as she got to the doors, and rushed back to him, handing him the fisted cigarette along with a new pack of matches. When he looked up at her surprised, she shrugged. 

“I like to keep some in my bag because I know you can never find your own.”

And with that, Y/N left Bucky in the street with a racing heart and a brain which had nearly stopped all form of thought completely. 

[empressofrizalia]

Mahou Sensei MSPA-tan! Chapter 1: Welcome to Alterra Academy!

[For you folks out there who are still thirsty for MSPA Reader content after the end of Friendsim. Hope you don’t mind the AU.]

You fuss about with your robes as you stand on your spot in the front row along with probably a hundred other students in the Grand Auditorium of Skaia Universal Institute of Thaumaturgy, or SUIT for short.  Thaumaturgy, in lay man’s terms, is a fancy-schmancy word for the study of ‘majyyk’.  Yup, that’s right.  Majyyk is a thing on Planet Earth, or at least in this iteration of Earth.  They are are not to be confused with ‘magic’, which is completely fake and only good for performing at lame children’s parties.  There are a lot of schools all over that are devoted to imparting the arcane, miraculous, and once forbidden knowledge to children everywhere.  You are one of those children.

The sound of crisp purposeful footsteps on a stone floor catches your and your classmates’ attention.  You look up the stage to see Headmaster Wiseman walking along the stage and onto the podium set at the middle while the school faculty stand on either side of him a few feet away.  Supposedly, it would be proper to describe the appearance of any important character that comes along in a story, though in this case, there is just no point in wasting words and energy.  The geezer was basically Gandalf from Lord of the Rings.  Of course, that is to say, he looked so much like Gandalf that he might as well be Gandalf.  All majyyk school headmasters were Gandalf.

The Hall fall silent in anticipation as Headmaster Gan—er, Wiseman fondly regards everyone.

“Today marks the end of yet another era,” he said in his old wizened voice.  “Congratulations, batch of 2612 graduates! You have all done well these past seven years.”

You smile, feeling proud of yourself.  All those years of hard studying led to this glorious moment.  Soon, you’ll be well on your way to become a Grandmaster Mage, the highest position of honor all wizards/witches/mages/whatever aspire to gain.  Not bad for a kid like you who’s just starting on the chapters of puberty while everyone else around you had already finished.

“However,” the Headmaster continues, “Graduation doesn’t mean an end to learning.”  All the graduates, including yourself, gave him puzzled looks.  What does he mean by that?

“Your real training into becoming civilized members of society, begins now.  Once I call your name, step up and receive your diploma.”  Your batchmates get called one by one.  As your last name is somewhere near the end of the alphabet, it would be a while before you get your turn.  Sooner or later, the sound of names being called turn into a dull monotonous droning in your ears.  Your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

“MSPA Reader…”  Your head lolled to the side as drowsiness slowly takes over you.

“MSPA Reader?” A jab at your side startles you awake.  You look to the side where the jab came from and you made eye contact with a batchmate who tells you to get your ass up on stage already.  Realization hits you like an empty bottle to the head and you hurry up to the front with your face flushed from embarrassment.  The rest of the event goes on without a hitch.

As with nearly everything else in a majyyk school, a graduate’s diploma is more than just a simple fancy roll of paper saying you’ve accomplished some grueling years of hunching down with your nose buried in a dusty old tome or waving a stick around.  In the majyyk world, a graduate’s diploma isn’t only a mark of achievement, but also an aid for deciding the new full fledged mage next step towards their future.  You unroll the parchment to take that first look upon your destiny.  The words appear with a flash the minute it was spread wide open.

"ALIEN TEACHER"

Eh?

EEEEEEEEEEEH?!

This has got to be a mistake! You need to have a word with the Headmaster right away!

“A teacher, eh? For aliens?” said Headmaster Wiseman, taking a sip of his earl gray tea.  “Well, if that’s what it says in your diploma, then that’s the end of the matter.  You must train hard in order to become a great mage.”

There has to be some kind of misunderstanding! Don’t real teachers, majyykal or otherwise, need some kind of license to be able to teach at any respectable educational facility? Plus, you’re only thirteen! And what is this about aliens?!

“Now calm down. There’s no reason for you to fret,” said the Headmaster.  “The principal of the school you’ll be assigned to is a friend of mine.  She’ll get you up to speed in no time.  Just do you best and you’ll be fine.”

Okay…

“Good. Now get out of my office.”

A few days later, you’re dressed up in your best suit with a handful of your belongings stuffed in a single suitcase and on board a plane going from the Big Island of Hawaii to a place called the Alterra Islands.  From what you’ve heard from whispers and read and watched from the internet (mages here aren’t as averse to modern science and technology), Alterra was a chain of man-made islands smack dab in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.  It was made to help foster relations between the humans of planet Earth and the aliens of planet Alternia.  Yes, aliens… You have found that they’re also a thing on Earth… and the universe.  Apparently more than a decade ago, the Alternians—or trolls as they called themselves—first arrived to Earth as refugees fleeing from the civil war raging on their homeworld.  They were sick, hurting, and desperate from their long journey.  Their leader, a male troll named the Signless, was the one to initiate first contact between them and the humans.  He was willing to trade their tech and ships in exchange for food and the care of the well-being of other trolls with him.  With the help of a renowned wealthy polymath, the trolls were slowly acclimating to life on earth, though it wasn’t without its own set of problems.  To make a long story short, people can be dicks.

The flight from Hawaii to Alterra didn’t take long.  After a couple of hours, you disembark the plane and went on to look for your guide who was mentioned to be waiting for you at the airport.  You look around and see an adult male troll with nubby horns and red eyes dressed in a similar respectable fashion as you though the had a gray vest rather than a jacket with a candy red tie and had the sleeves of his dress shirt folded to his elbows.  He carried a sign with your name on it.  That must be him.  You walk over and introduce yourself.

“So you’re the new teacher? I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d be so young,” he said.  He seemed like such an amicable fellow.  You admit that you were scared of him at first since you've never spoken to a troll before.

He gives a friendly chuckle.  “Don’t worry about it.  Once you get settled, you’ll be spending a lot of your time talking to trolls.  You’ll get used to it in no time.  By the way, I’m Kankri Vantas.  I teach Social Studies at the academy.  You may have also heard of me as the Signless around the time of the first contact.”  You nod as you stare at him in awe.  He became quite the celebrity after the first contact, an icon for peaceful relations between human and trollkind.  You have no idea why he was called ‘Signless’, but you decided not to ponder about it too much.  You never thought he’d be the one guiding you of all people.

“Anyway, shall we go? The principal of the school you’ll be teaching in is expecting you.”

The two of you leave the airport with him taking the lead.  Mr. Vantas takes you to a cab that had been standing in wait.  He takes the seat next to the human driver while you get settled on the backseat.  Once you leave the airport grounds, he begins to give you a little basic information.

Alterra is a little chain of four main islands that serve as the home base for the troll residents as well as their embassy on Earth.  The islands each host a division of Alterra Academy.  The middle school division where you’ll be working is built on Isle-2 where you are currently on.  On average, there are about seventy-thousand students earn their education on Alterra, ranging from kindergarten to university levels.  Most of the students are young trolls who hatched on Earth.  There are human students as well who are usually the children of the humans who worked on the Islands.  Each island also has their own facilities for food and utility production, waste management, justice system, and a local economy—pretty much everything that can qualify Alterra as its own little sovereign nation.  Though international trading was limited to a whole line of products that suited the needs of their fellow trolls living on other nations.  The construction of the islands was commissioned solely by a billionaire explorer named Jake Harley, who you remember to also be the main sponsor for SUIT.  Could it be that he’s also a mage like you?

You looked out the window as Mr. Vantas babbled on.  You marveled at the lush greenery that was teeming with strange wildlife.  Some resembled Earth animals, some seemed more like mythical creatures, the rest were downright strange.  Mr. Vantas explains to you that those creatures were the lusii that were smuggled from Alternia.  Your eyes nearly bug out upon hearing that as you spot one of larger creatures snap its jaws on a smaller one and proceed to tear it apart.  These creatures were supposed to care for children?! Was Mr. Vantas raised by one of them?

“Yes, it has been that way since the beginning.  Adult trolls aren’t best suited to care for young… with a few rare exceptions…”  He went on to explain about trolls with jade blood who along with taking care of the Mother Grub who lays the eggs for the troll species, care for newly-hatched trolls or grubs to prepare them for their trials.  And the fact that he was raised by one since grubhood despite the fact that he should have been culled instead due to his mutant blood color.  You turn your attention back up front to see the somber expression in his eyes through the rear-view mirror.  You have learned about the different castes trolls have according to their blood color a few days before your departure via web search.  It was quite strange, but the cruel hierarchy built on it was anything but pleasant.  No wonder Mr. Vantas and his followers went to rebel.

“Oh, sorry. I got a bit carried away. Am I bumming you out?” He asked, snapping from his reverie.  You tell him that it’s fine.  It’s okay to be sad every now and then.

A little while later you spot a bunch of tall fancy buildings coming up in the distance.  Your ride gets closer until it stops by large metal gate bearing a shield emblem bearing a spirograph between a pair of stylized wings with a banner underneath bearing the words: Alterra Academy in Times New Roman capitals.  You get off the taxi and stared at the school in wonder as Mr. Vantas addressed the security guards who opened the gates to let you in.  Is this really a school? The structure of the buildings remind you of a scenic European town, though the roads were void of any vehicle save for a few cable cars.  Teenagers, both troll and human, walked around in gray and black uniforms heading for the same direction up north.  You get a lot of stares while your guide gets a lot of smiles and greetings.  After a moment, Mr. Vantas hails a cable car for the both of you.

“In case you were wondering, this is the student town,” he says after sitting down next to you.  “This is where the student dormitories, shops, and recreational facilities are.  The school building is further forward.”

The ride is peaceful for the most part as the cable car moved at a steady pace, but then a little later, you notice a hoard of students coming in running and rushing.  Some were riding on skates and skateboards, taking the back rail of the cable car to tag along.  Others were driving automobiles despite being definitely underage.  Some were riding on the backs of what you guessed were their lusii.  And there were some who are even flying! Had you been an average Joe, that last part would really surprise you.  It’s a good thing you’re a mage.  Anything is possible with the power of majyyk! You’ve thought of using it to send yourself to the straight to the principal’s office, but alas, teleportation only works if you have a clear picture of your destination, which you don’t.

Your cable car is soon stuffed with more students to near bursting.  What the hell is happening?

Your answer came in the form of a public announcement: “To all students: this is the Guidance Committee,” says a woman’s voice with a New Jersey accent.  “This week is Zero Late Attendances Week, and it’s only ten minutes before the bell.  Let’s hurry it up!” Oh, that’s why.  “Any students late this week will be issued yellow cards! Please try to arrive with plenty of time to spare!”

You could hear Mr. Vantas laughing.  “Haha! I love Zero Late Week.  It gets so lively!”

That’s great and all, but shouldn’t you hurry up too? It wouldn’t look good on you as a teacher to be late to your first class.

“It’s alright, Mx. Reader.  As a teacher, you’re allowed to be late for ten minutes at the very least.  Any later, and not only does your class get canceled, you’ll get a mark on your record.  Do it enough times, and you’ll get slapped on with a hefty fine.  We can't have our educators and role models slacking off and leaving a bad impression on our dear students now, don't we.  But you seem like a punctual sort, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

That’s nice.  Ten minutes was enough time to run and buy a breakfast sandwich or a tall coffee before getting to class when running late for any reason.  Cooking isn’t one of your strong suits.

A minute later, you feel a tickling sensation in your nose.  You try hard to fight the urge to sneeze, for it’s simply impolite to blow your nose around company.

AACHOO!!

You fail miserably.  So miserably that with an uncontrolled burst of majyyk, you somehow manage to create a draft strong enough to not only flip the skirts of the surrounding female students all at once, but also make the cable car jump an inch off the rail it was on.  The girls blab to each other in slight panic while others berate the boy passengers, accusing them of being perverts for peeking at their undergarments.  Mr. Vantas turns to look out the window with a blush on his cheeks.

“Bless you?” he says, sounding quite unsure of what had just transpired.  You thank him and apologize as you pull out a handkerchief to wipe the snot dribbling down your nose.

The Principal’s Office is quite spacious.  The floors and the ornamental window frames where made of polished wood.  The decor approach was rather minimal—just a desk, a chair, a coffee table, a red two-person suede couch, a few paintings depicting famous comedians along the walls, and a couple of bookshelves full of books (mostly about baking, practical japery, and mystery novels) and knick-knacks.  Mr. Vantas had left you alone so he can attend to his other duties.

“Why, if it isn’t our new teacher, hoo hoo!” the principal of Alterra Academy, a jolly elderly woman named Jane Egbert according to the nameplate on her desk.  “Welcome to Alterra.”

You give a polite bow.  It’s nice to meet you.

“Headmaster Wiseman has told me about you.  Graduating at only thirteen? You’re quite the prodigy.”  You blush at her flattery.  Shucks, ma’am.  You don’t have to go through that.

“Hoo hoo! Now there’s no need to be so modest.  Wiseman tells me your diploma told you to be a teacher for aliens for your post-grad training, is it not? Then you’ve been given quite the task.”

You agree.  It was truly odd that a kid like you would be assigned such a grown-up job.  Though everyone in the room understands that there was absolutely nothing that can be done about it.

“I’m not going to lie, Mx. Reader, this job will probably be difficult.”  Principal Egbert’s voice took a slight serious tone.  “If it’s too hard for you, you’ll have to return home.  And there’ll be no second chances.  Are you prepared to accept that?”

This was it.  There’s no turning back. You’ve gone through a lot, and spent a lot just to get the ticket to fly to this place. The kid side of you thinks that it’ll be too much to handle and it's better to just go back home, but the budding adult side of you screams at you to not back down of the first real challenge life has thrown at you.  You want to be the greatest mage in the world, do you? Then you might as well swallow your kiddy pride, stand up straight, clench your asscheeks, and say, “I’ll do it!”

“Bravo! Then it’s settled.”  Principal Egbert clapped her hands, happy at your answer.  “But first and foremost, you must gain some practical experience.  Let’s make it from today to March.”

Of course!

“We’ll begin today. Let me just page the Staff Guidance Officer to get you started.”  She pushes a button on the telephone at a corner of her desk and calls for a Ms. Porrim Maryam to come to the Principal’s Office.  You sat down on the couch as you wait.  A couple of minutes later, the door opens and someone steps in.

It was another troll, a lady troll to be exact.  Her horns are much longer and pointier than Mr. Vantas’ with one of them being hooked.  Her short cropped hair is styled neatly to accentuate her narrow face and perfect cheekbones.  Like him, she’s dressed in a professional yet stylish manner with her white blouse, jade green maxi skirt, and black high heels.

“Are you in need of assistance, principal?” she asks in a soft kind voice and makes note of your presence. “And who might you be? A new student, perhaps?”

“I’m fine, Ms. Maryam,” the principal replies.  “That child, however, is actually a new teacher here at the academy.”

Ms. Maryam covers her mouth with a dainty manicured hand in mild surprise.  “Really? But you’re so young.”  If you had a penny for every time someone commented about your age, you'd have three pennies.  Maybe more in the near future, but for now you have to settle with three.

You explain your situation to Ms. Maryam who relaxes a bit.  “I see.  Can’t say I still approve, but if that’s what has been decided and it can help you in some way, then I won’t object.  Though if there’s something you don’t understand, please feel free to consult me.”  You nod.  You’re going to need all the help you can get.

“Hoo hoo!” Principal Egbert chuckles. “Now that everything’s said and done, you may take this class roster,” she hands over a booklet to you.  “Your assigned homeroom is Class 413.  Ms. Maryam can show you the way.”  Ms. Maryam’s jade eyes seem to widen in astonishment at the mention of Class 413.  The principal just gives her a knowing look in return.  You can’t help but wonder if there was something no one is telling you, or are willing to tell you.  You take a moment to wonder if taking this teaching gig was really a good idea.  You then catch yourself and shake off the terrible quitter thoughts creeping into your mind.  You can do this.  You’ve already agreed you can do this.

Your mind was still preoccupied by the thoughts of Class 413 as you and Ms. Maryam walked within the silent halls of the school, passing classroom after classroom.  Each one of them had glass pane windows so you could see a typical class setting that often consists of mixed troll and human students being taught by either a troll or human teacher.

Ms. Maryam seemed wary the minute Principal Crocker brought them up.  Even as she walked next to you, her posture seemed somewhat rigid and there was a furrow on her brow.

You decided to just get on with it and ask her what Class 413 was like.

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry.  I suppose you deserve to know at the very least since you’ll be serving as their homeroom teacher.”  She hesitates for a bit.  “Class 413 is… a tad problematic.”

Problematic? That could mean a lot of things, most of which aren’t very good.  Is she saying that you got stuck with a class full of delinquents?

“No, not per se,” Ms. Maryam says.  She then stops walking, so do you. Is there something wrong?

She swivels her head around, possibly looking for other presences in the hall.  Then she turned back to look straight into your eyes.  There was an serious look on them you didn’t think you’d see on someone with a motherly temperament.  “Listen closely,” she says.  “What I’m about to tell you is extremely confidential.  No one else but the founder, the principal and a select few members of the staff and faculty, including myself, know of this.  Not even Earth’s mainstream media knows anything.  I’m going to tell you this since you’re going to be in charge of Class 413 for however long you’re here.  But I ask that you promise to keep a tight lip on this subject.  You do not, under any circumstances, reveal any of this to anyone.  Do you understand?”

You say yes.  Boy, this was intense.  First day on the job and you’re already getting wrapped up in some kind of weird conspiracy.

Ms. Maryam gives you a warm smile.  “I know I could trust you,” she says.  “Alright, here it is.  Around a perigee, or month before your arrival, a second Alternian spaceship crashed on this planet.  Unlike the one our group escaped in, this one was much smaller, possibly a minor cruiser.  It landed into the ocean not far from the islands.  As far as the rest of this world is concerned, it was just a huge meteor.  But for those who remember life on Alternia, we quickly realized what it truly was, and we immediately scrambled to retrieve it before it sank further into the deep depths.  What we found after we forcibly opened it, shocked us.”  She took a deep breath.  She seems shaken about the subject, even a while after the incident.

“Children,” she continued.  “We found children.  They looked to be about to be six sweeps, or thirteen years old at the very least.”

Wow.  That’s just terrible! You’re so shocked by this news that you can’t think of anything to describe what you’re really feeling right now other than shock.  Those kids weren’t any older than you were and they somehow managed to escape their planet and into outer space all alone?

“To think that a group of children would go so far to flee from Alternia by themselves.  It tells me—us—that things at the homeworld aren’t getting any better.  Perhaps it’s getting worse.  I’m not sure,” a somber Ms. Maryam says.  “We took them in and decided that it would be best for them to try and acclimate to life here.  From the way things look, they’re probably going to spend the rest of their lives on this planet.  However, these wrigglers were hatched from Alternia, and they don’t take well to being in close proximity as an adult troll.  Not even my Kankri could win them over.  Frankly, I don’t blame them.  Alternian adult trolls tend to be dangerous toward youngsters.”

You don’t know much about what Alternia was like, but from what you’re hearing in conjunction with what you’ve heard from Mr. Vantas and read from the internet, it sounded like a place that made Hell look like paradise resort in comparison.  No offense.

“None taken. You’re right, actually. It’s why we fled in the first place.”

You suggest that if troll teachers aren't able to help those kids, why not try human teachers?

“We have already tried that as well.  But humans aren’t well versed to Alternian social norms and cues.  All attempts on successful rapport ended in disaster… for the humans.  At this point, we’re at our wit’s end, but our founder constantly reminded us to never lose hope.  He firmly believes that these wrigglers could be rehabilitated.  Personally, I and a few others think so too.”

Ms. Maryam looks at you thoughtfully.  “You know, I’m starting to think that perhaps your assignment as a teacher here may be more than a mere coincidence.  Yes, I see now.  Where the adults have failed, you might succeed.  Given your relatable age, they’d probably be more willing to let their guard down and communicate with you.”  Oh, cool.  This might turn out to be easier than you thought.  “But don’t get too comfortable.  If you’re not careful, they’d walk all over you once given the opportunity.  I suggest that you watch your back around them.”  Welp, there go the last vestige of confidence you have left.

You both resume your walk, your hand tight around the class roster.  You look up to see the numbers on the classrooms gradually climb up.  Class 409… 410… 411… 412…

“Here we are.”  You almost bump into Ms. Maryam when she stops in front of a classroom near the end of the hall.  A sneak peek through the window shows you a room full of troll kids talking to each other, playing around, or just off doing their own thing.  You’re not sure if there are any humans mixed in as you couldn’t see even a hint of peach, brown, or black in the sea of gray skin and candy corn horns.  A troll boy with a pair of horns that oddly resembled flashlights takes notice of you and gives a flirty wink.  You back away and draw closer to Ms. Maryam.

You take a moment to open your class roster and get a glimpse of your prospective students.  You count a total of forty kids.  That’s forty troll kids from the hellplanet Alternia.  Forty troll kids who Ms. Maryam says might hurt either your body and ego (or both) should you allow it in any way.  It must have taken a lot pedial put-downs to get them to sit still for their one-on-one photo-op to make this roster.  Not all of them looked very happy.

But you don’t know, a fair lot of them also seem kind of nice.  Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all.

“Make sure to remember their names and faces quickly, okay?” Ms. Maryam reminds you.  You swallow a lump in your throat as you stood in front of the door, hands shaking.  Can you really do this? Can you really teach so many alien kids like this? You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and reach for the knob of the wooden door.  It’s now or never...

EXTRA

ALTERRA ACADEMY FACULTY & STAFF DOSSIER

Name: MSPA Reader

Age: 13 years

Occupation: Aspiring Grandmaster Mage, Alterra Academy newbie teacher

Notes:

-Shaped like a friend

-Junior majyyk user

-Protect them

~oOo~

Name: Kankri “The Signless” Vantas

Age: 16 solar sweeps/35 years

Blood Color: Candy/Human Red

Occupation: Alternian revolutionary/religious icon, Earth troll representative/ambassador, Alterra Academy Social Studies teacher

Notes:

-Love and equality for all

-Righteous leggings under professional garb

-Shouty when angered

~oOo~

Name: Porrim “Dolorosa” Maryam

Age: 35 solar sweeps/76 years

Blood Color: Jade Green

Sign: Virgo Occupation: Signless’ guardian/mother, Academy Staff Guidance Officer, Student Guidance Councilor

Notes:

-Team Mom

-Rumored to be a Rainbow Drinker/Troll vampire

~oOo~

Name: Jane Egbert, née Crocker

Age: 80 years

Occupation: Alterra Academy Principal

Notes:

-Ex-heiress to a baking empire

-Practical japerist

-Senior Sleuth

[axmrdbahjad-blog]

The Roadmap To Wealth

First thing First - Where Am I?

“Unexamined life is not worth living.” — Socrates.

I cannot go forward until I am honest with myself. Primarily, I must know where I am. I am working for a company. Like millions of people, I went to university and then hoping I’d work and earn decent wages. It turned out that was a big mistake. University does not guarantee financial independence. One will be an educated servant. And to be frank, I’m one of those who despise working for companies, governments or organisations. Instead, I love working for myself by providing service and products to companies, organisations and maybe governments. Still, there is no security for being an employee. People are made redundant. Some found their true calling after life pushed them around. Surely you’ve heard of the saying that necessity is the mother of invention. Before it’s too late I want to get out of being employee scenario. The future of the culture is uncertain. Think about the economic and political crisis. Brexit is a good proof that the Western politics and economy is in a bad shape. In addition to that, thousands of jobs are going away and they won’t come back. The living expenses are on the rise while the salaries are stagnant.

“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” — Sun Tzu.

If I want to be wealth, I must do things differently. So, I have decided to write a roadmap for my way to be financially independent. These are seven simple steps I must walk in that effort. This concise book with the seven simple steps is my road to accumulate wealth. The book could have extended 200 pages I shortened it for the sake of simplicity and clarity.

Chapter 1 — Know Yourself Well

“Know yourself Ill, know others and victory is certain.” — Sun Tzu.

There is one area I will be looking at in this segment; namely, character.

Character Traits

Faith — I have to work on my faith of the future. Strength — I have been learning how to deal with disappointments and challenges. I’m getting better than three years ago. Selfless — I must put other people before myself. Service — I must provide service and go the extra mile. Acceptance — I must be comfortable with the things I cannot change and change the ones I can. Courage — I must have the courage to change the things in myself and community. Concentration — the single important quality of an excellent mind is the ability to concentrate and shut out all else. Diligence — work is vital for the human mind and body. Work smartly. After all, hard doesn't bring wealth. Love — loving is good. Morality — I’m conservative in many ways when it comes to Detachment — I must do the work and focus on the process rather than the results. Patience — if I have done my work diligently, I must have the ability to wait the result. Perseverance — If I start something, I must complete without discouragement. Purity — cleanliness is everything. I must take care of my clothes, shoes, beddings and so on. Self-Restraint — the ability to uphold myself from going out while everyone is going out, to drink alcohol, sodas and smoke cigarettes and overeating foods. Sincerity — I must be sincere even when I’m wrong. Truthfulness — truth over everything is the best quality to have.

Character traits I must avoid

Conceit — narcissism and excessive self-loving is bad idea for the long run. Criticism — I used to criticise policies and bad behaviours. I don't do criticism. It is a waste of time. Jealousy — this is a disease and it kills the jealous person sooner or later. Laziness — it is another human disease. Whenever I think about taking action and I think about the weather or the long hours that thing may take, I do it anyway. Partiality — half hearted is not the good way of doing work. Want of Fame — doing something for the sake of being famous is narcissism. I leave that for Obama and Trump and other ambitious folks. Want of Sympathy — Talking about my challenges is not the right to solve them. I avoid to receive sympathy.

Self-Inventory

I usually talk to strangers. And thus connect with them easily. Therefore, my personality suits customer service provider. I’m good at communicating with people. Essentially, I get along with people from different walks of life because I know what to say and not say in human relations. Therefore, I am a good salesperson. I know what people want. And I know how to provide their needs well. According to Napoleon Hill, there are 25 ways to develop a pleasing personality:

1 Positive Mental Attitude- The right mental attitude in any given situation. The most important aspect of a Attractive Personality. Symbolised by Faith, integrity, hope, optimism, courage, initiative, generosity, tolerance, kindliness, tact, and common sense. 2 Flexibility- Being able to adapt yourself to changing circumstances. 3 Sincerity of Purpose- Insincerity is evident on your expressions. 4 Promptness of Decision- Messing around doesn't create popularity. 5 Courtesy- Respect other peoples feelings. 6 Tact- Doing and saying the right things at the right moments. 7 Tone of Voice- Control your tone of voice so it creates meaning. 8 Habit of Smiling- Smile when your angry. 9 Facial Expressions- You can tell whats going on with a person by their expressions. 10 Tolerance- Being fair toward all opinions. 11 Frankness of Speech and Manner- Be honest and tell the truth. 12 A Sense of Humour- Allows you and others to relax. 13 Faith in Intelligence- Faith is the essence of all great achievement. 14 The Appropriate use of words- Careful and attentive effort. 15 Effective Speech- You will become a powerful communicator. 16 Emotional Control- Much of what we do is directed by our feelings. 17 Alertness of Interest- Show the people you interact with that you interested. 18 Versatility- Know what your talking about or don’t say anything. 19 Fondness for People- Like others, and you will be liked in return. 20 Humility- Do not brag 21 Effective Showmanship- Let others know they are doing great. 22 Clean Sportsmanship- Lose without complaining. 23 A good handshake- A firm and friendly handshake. 24 Personal Magnetism- Feel good about yourself. 25 A keen Sense of Justice- You cannot deal justly with others if your not just with yourself.

Chapter 2 — Know Others Well

“Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win” ― Sun Tzu.

It is always good to treat people with respect even if they are unkind to me. It is not about them! Every situation reveals my character in a nutshell. If a person swears or being rude to me and I react to his/her action, then I’m not mature enough to handle my life. There are three essentials for communication: 1 I must know when to initiate a conversation and when to stop. 2 I must know how to deal with both rude and kind people. 3 I must know how to talk with powerful and powerless. I used to be a debater at university and college. Moreover, I’d argue with people at teashops, bus stops and workplace. I realised (that) the people didn't want to accept evidence or acts, they just wanted to debate for the sake of being right even they ere wrong. I do not debate with people unless I know the other person is open to new evidence. Why? I learnt from wise people not to waste your time with trifle arguments. If I know people well, it will enable me to provide what they need. Overall, it will make easy to communicate with them.

Chapter 3 — Build Strong Community Businesses

"I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live." — George Bernard Shaw.

“I cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibres connect us with our fellow men.” – Herman Melville.

“If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” – African Proverb.

I believe that the day the government ruled is coming to an end. And community is replacing its place. Community is more humane. It is about caring and sharing. It is about love. It’s putting people before money. It is about taking care of the elderly and the weakest in our midst. It is about give and take.

Start Small Businesses - Multiple Sources of Income.

“Great results, can be achieved with small forces.” ― Sun Tzu.

I sat down and jot down some of the things my community needs. So I can provide some of these demands. People need a teacher, especially the adults even though they do not know it. The young adults need assistance of their homework. Thus, I can be a tutor. I can supply their fruits and bread and milk. I can make a deal with a farmer and supply these needs to the community. I can clean houses of careerists who don't have time for their own backyards. I can sell clothes on the street and online. I can massage health lovers. I can cook healthy homemade food. And start street food. These are some of the demands came to mind. There could be more business ideas if I do not stop there. For now, these are enough to keep me busy and strategise. Therefore, I will provide three of these needs.

Chapter 4 — Resisting the Temptation

“Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.” —Rumi.

“The King is the man who can.”

—Carlyle.

“All the world cries, Where is the man who will save us? We want a man! Don't look so far for this man. You have him at hand. This man—it is you, it is I; it is each one of us!... How to constitute one's self a man? Nothing harder, if one knows not how to will it; nothing easier, if one wills it.” —Alexander Dumas.

It is time to do the right thing and preserve my individuality in a culture which abhors independent minds. It is time to have the courage to say” “No,” while all the world say: “Yes.”

Chapter 5 — Where Is My Market?

“Opportunities? They am all around us ... There is power lying latent everywhere waiting for the observant eye to discover it.” ― Orison Swett Marden.

“Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand.” —Thomas Carlyle.

“I will either find a way, or make one.” — Hannibal Barca.

“You see, but you do not observe.” —Sherlock Holmes.

Opportunities are everywhere. I can clean the wealth people’s houses, do massage, become nannie, tutor, and salesperson. I can improve existing services and products. I create new services and products. How about producing personal helicopters? So people can skip the traffic jam! How about becoming a playwright and screenwriter? I can describe the mundane of every day life. And find the good things about living in a life of routine. Opportunities are what I want. If I don't know what I want, then I can provide what others want.

Chapter 6 — Share My Experiences

“Learn From Yesterday, Live for Today, hope for tomorrow.” ― Orison Swett Marden.

It’s been said that we remember what write down. We better remember what we teach. There is no better way to learn than teaching the little one already knows. Moreover, it is a good way to share one’s experience and knowledge. These are three ways I share what I’m doing or know: I blog my unfinished or finished work; I tweet quotations of my books; and email some people in my list. I also take action by going guerrilla marketing on the streets of the city I’m in. For example, I have a little stall and give free advice about marketing, business ideas, health and creative writing. It is a good way to let others know you are still around. More importantly, it is rewarding to help folks. After all, sharing is caring.

Chapter 7 — Daily Learning

“The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.” — Antonio Gramsci.

There are 7 ways I can engage in daily learning. The first way to learn is to listen to good books, conversation and stories daily. Second, it is to read beneficial books. Third, it is apprenticeship ourselves. I must do things I want to get better at it daily. Fourth, attending seminars and workshop is essential. Fifth, draw and write what you experienced. Sixth, I must be part of a learning group. Seventh, I must write a diary to monitor my activities and what I want to learn. Learn three things above anything else: Religion, moneymaking and health lifestyle. Niebuhr said that religion is good people and bad for bad people. Religion is good for the soul. It’s our duty to praise our Creator. Learn and master the art of selling. It is the best way to accumulate wealth. Learn something new every day. Summing up, I have identified seven steps to becoming wealth. They are simple and short to understand them. Having said that, they are hard to follow in times like these. We have so much distractions—smartphones, television, news, soup operas and political shows. After self-inventorying myself, I realise it is not so much about what I do should. Rather, it is what I don't do, for example, getting  rid of bad habits; checking my smartphone, emails, socialising with people I cannot learn something new and going out. In addition to that, I have stopped spending money on designer clothes, holidays, tea, coffee, bus and toothpaste. By the way, I use Somali tooth stick. It’s healthier and cheaper. I have to add that bit just in case some of you interpret it I’m no longer into oral hygiene.

In Conclusion

Lovely readers, You are reading this because you want to change your current lifestyle or inquisitive to know what is out there. If you have learnt something new or motivated by this concise book, you must share it with someone you care about. Sharing is caring. Thank you and I wish you every success! Axmed Bahjad, the author.

[systemfailuresunshine]

“Next stop, Neverland!” - Elsa Chapter 23

Author: @systemfailuresunshine

A/N: Actual start of the Disney chapters so hold on for that!

Word Count: 3386

Warning(s): Fluff and comfort

Summary: A holiday comes sooner than expected...

“I’d take a look at the date on those birthday tickets if I were you,” Tony said, the next day, as everyone was sitting in the kitchen. “The tickets to Florida reminded me.”

“The tickets to…,” you trailed off before gasping.

You moved from your seat at the breakfast bar to Bucky who was sitting on his own chair. He looked up at you as you draped your arms around his neck and rested your head on top of his.  

“I think they might have figured it out,” Bucky smirked, tilting his head up and turning it to press his lips to your cheek.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of booking you onto our plane,” Tony smiled. “But they didn’t have any more room in first class so you’ll be slumming it in economy.”

Steve let out a bark of laughter from his place next to Tony.

“How did you manage to get us upgraded and get them on the same flight?”

Tony scoffed.  

“Rogers! It’s like you forget who I am sometimes,” he chuckled.

“Well,” you all but shouted excitedly. “Let’s go then!”  

You grabbed Bucky by the hand and pulled him out of the room, calling over your shoulder.

“We’ll see you guys later! Seems like we’ve got some packing to do!”

You heard laughter as you made their way down the corridor and into your room.

"Are you a little bit excited?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at you and poked his tongue out of the side of his mouth as you threw clothing out of drawers and into a suitcase that he’d helped you get out of one of your wardrobes.

You grabbed a balled-up pair of socks from the suitcase and aimed them at his head. He caught them with ease and threw them back to you, hitting you square in the chest. You pouted, making him laugh.

“Why aren’t you packing?” you said, stress evident in your voice despite the fact that you’d only just started.

“Because, contrary to popular belief,” he paused. “And, by that, I mean Sam.”  

You giggled.

“I don’t have all of my stuff in here. I actually have to go back to my own room to get changed in the morning.”

“Well, go go go then,” you laughed. “Unless you’d rather be stuck wearing my stuff while we’re there.”

“Tempting, doll,” he smirked at you. “But I think you’d look better in it than me. I’ll be back.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled as you turned back to the suitcase with an armful of shorts. He squeezed your shoulders and left to pack his own things.

“Car’s here!” Rhodey called from his seat by the window the next day.  

You squeaked and rushed to put the final touches to your hand luggage before swinging your rucksack up onto your shoulder and dragging your suitcase out of the bedroom door. You turned around to survey the mess you’d left, nodded, and closed the door quickly behind you. No one had to know until you came back.

“You got us a car?” you were incredulous as you turned to walk into the kitchen, leaving your suitcase in the hall. “You can’t have only been planning this a day?”

“I have a lot of influence. I’m a very special person,” Tony’s trademark expression lit up his face.  

He got up from the breakfast bar, disentangling himself from Steve, and pressed his lips to your temple.  

“I thought you might like a holiday. I know you didn’t know it was coming so soon but with all you’ve gone through this past 6 months, even, I wanted to do something nice.”

“You’re always nice.”  

He shushed you, winking. “Don’t tell the others!”

“Elsa!” Tony shouted at the same time you shouted “Bucky!”

Bucky appeared at the kitchen door, a bemused expression on his face, and a similar set of luggage to you.  

“Ready,” he chuckled.

Tony pushed you both out of the door, while Nat and Clint followed behind with their suitcases.

“Guys,” you protested. “You don’t have to follow us to the car. We’re grown-ups. We can do it ourselves.”

Tony let out a strangled noise. Steve laughed.

“I think that’s his way of saying that your holiday starts now, so get used to relaxing and having stuff done for you,” he paused. “But I could just be reading into that.”

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded.

“We’ll probably see you on the way home. First class lounge and all that.”

You smiled and pulled Tony into a hug before doing the same to Steve.

“See you guys soon then.”

You squirmed in your seat as you waited for the gate number to appear on the screen above you. 5 minutes to go.

"You okay?" Bucky asked softly, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

"I'm not too keen on planes," you said, your eyes flitting around your surroundings. "Honestly, not a great flyer." You laughed quietly.

"Guess it was almost a good thing we left you behind last time," he chuckled.

"I'm sure HYDRA would have run screaming from the girl with the sick bag. It ruins their badass-looking style. Clashes with the black outfits they've got going on, you know?" you joked.

"Flight 1267 to Orlando: your plane is now boarding at Gate 32."

"I guess that's us."

Bucky stood first and held his hand out. You smiled up at him and took it.

"Next stop, Neverland!"

You boarded with relative ease and found your seats. Clicking the seatbelt into place (low and tight as they’d been told), the panic started to set in. Your hands clenched into fists, your shoulders tensed and raised slightly, and your heartbeat began racing.

"Just focus on me. Look, hold my hand," he said softly, immediately picking up on your change in posture.

You did as you were told, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You took his metal hand in both of yours and traced the grooves of the metal, along the ridges, from the tips of his fingers to his elbow. It was cool to the touch which helped to keep you grounded. He leant down to grab your bag from the seat in front of you, making sure not to move his hand from your grip. Placing it on your lap, he unzipped the top and pulled out your MP3 player. He took one of your hands in his other and guided it so that you could hold the device and put one earphone in. You turned it on and opened your eyes.

"Better?" He smiled, squeezing your hand.

You smiled weakly back at him and rested your head on his shoulder.  

"Thank you," you whispered.

The plane accelerated down the runway and you squeezed your eyes shut again as he placed the other earphone in and turned the volume up so that you couldn’t hear the engines. Your breathing gradually slowed back down and he stroked his thumb across the back of the hand that wasn’t running along his other. The acceleration sped up and you were forced back slightly into your seats as the plane lifted off and into the air. Thankfully, you thought, it was only a three-hour flight.

“You alright there?” a voice sounded next to your ear and you opened your eyes, startled.

The voice laughed.

“We’ve landed,” Bucky beamed at you as you looked over at him and the hoard of people now scrambling to get their bags.

“Thank goodness for that,” you smiled. “Guess we’d better get off then.”

“Unless you’d rather go back to New York,” he teased.

“Not a chance, soldier. I am seeing that castle again if it kills me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, standing and offering you a hand. “Besides,” he started. “We’ve gotta find and check into the hotel, and,” he counted things off on his fingers.

“So just a bit to do?” you laughed, unclipping your seatbelt and taking his hand.

“Let’s hope Tony gave us a map.”

“A double bed,” Bucky remarked as he opened the door to your room, put his suitcase down and surveyed the room. “Much better than at the Tower. Means we don’t have to worry about being loud.”  

He laid down on the bed and dragged you down with him as the door closed behind you.

“Loud?” you asked, then stopped, flabbergasted and elbowed him in the ribs.  

“Bucky!”

He grinned at you cheekily and you laughed at him.

“Sometimes I think you like being crude,” you shook your head and pressed your lips to his.  

He rolled over and rested himself on his elbows, hovering above you. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and your lips met again. Bucky leant down, his hair covering both of your faces as he placed a kiss on a spot just below your jawline. You gasped softly and smiled up at him, your eyes hooded, mouth slightly open.

“Bedtime?” he whispered as you settled back down into the bed.

You nodded and he rolled back over onto his side.

“Big day tomorrow,” you said, brushing your hand over his cheek and tucking some stray strands behind his ear.  

“The bucket list is being updated,” he chuckled as you hid your face in his chest. “Now, get some rest, doll.”

“You too,” you chastised. “Otherwise you’re gonna regret it tomorrow because I am taking you everywhere,” you grinned.

“I’m worried.”

“You should be,” you giggled. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Yes, dear,” he snorted. “But we do have to actually get ready for bed first.”

You groaned exaggeratedly and stood up.

“You’re no fun.”

“I will be tomorrow.”

You laughed and pushed Bucky into the bathroom.

A/N: Little bit short but with everything to come. Planes, thunderstorms, I am not good with a number of ordinary things. I think this chapter was almost written just so I could get the bit in on the plane. But here we have Chapter 23, and it is building up for big things, people! Chapter 24 is going to be so much fun and fluff and just Disneyness that you, nor I, am even ready for it yet...

Thank you all, as always. Please like, reblog, share, etc if you liked and have a good week everyone x

Taglist: @buckyywiththegoodhair, @buckys-shield, @justkeeplaughing-nevergiveup, @itscooltobehappy, @the-renaissance

If anyone else wants to be added (or removed), just message me on here (@systemfailuresunshine ) or on @story-prompt-lyrics!

[dankesdarkman]

Fate and Economics: How FSN Is An Economical Commentary By The Spacebattles Forum

You know what’s normal? fate shitposting

You know what’s fun? fate  economics shitposting

The beginning of this madness

Raguna Blade said:

You know, thinking on it, yeah that totally makes sense based on what I know of japanese work culture. Especially when mixed with the targeted audience of the FS/N games (otaku type) who were already on the outside edge of such culture and were totally open to hearing alternate idea's of what to do, it makes a clear amount of sense. Tying with the heroines then, it sort of follows that the various routes demonstrate how things work out for him. Following Saber, who basically embodies the Work your ass into dust ideal set's him up with an impossible goal for happiness. Saber has to Wait Forever, He has to work forever and if they can both keep it up without fucking it all up along the way, Glory GLory forever. Rin though? Rin's got a discrete clear goal. It requires hard work certainly, but it's not the end all be all. You need to work certainly, you need to work hard, the world is utterly vicious and will swallow you up (the clocktower, then, is true society I guess. None of those fake niceties, it's kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, real Chaos Route stuff there.) but there's plenty to do aside from it and happiness can coincide easily enough if you're willing to stick out that hand and work for it. And then yeah, Sakura is a full on rejection of that, and it makes sense that in her route there would be the most shit going horribly wrong is just in general kind of the most painful (as my recollection calls anyway). Shirous not only rejecting the dominant paradigm for work ethic, sorta, but he's doing to be with someone who is kind of coded as handicapped(? Recollections may be failing I apologize). Severe Trauma, violent violent freak outs (or just freak outs in general really), Sakura is a broken girl really. SO He not only rejects the idea that he has to work himself into dust for his ideals, Ideals he still technically has but needs to better consider and come to terms with as I understand it, But he makes use of that titanic drive to do something utterly radical and do what would make him truly happy even if it means rejecting basically the entire culture he's in. So that's neat. And Bludflag Imma need you to stop. I can legitimately go at this all day, but my surface level knowledge of the FS/N series is gonna out me as a clown sooner or later and I kinda need to dodge that. Assuming I haven't run face first into the clowning pie already.

frozenchicken said:

The Economic Simulationism of the Fate Franchise Part 1-Economic Mechanisms Many compliments have been offered to Nasu for the depth of his worldbuilding, but very few discuss the blatant economic commentary hidden within his works. In particular, the Masters and Servants of the 5th Holy Grail War* are each distinct commentaries on various Economic mechanisms and social systems. Mechanisms Spoiler: Large Corporations

The first of these mechanisms is one that is obvious even to those unfamiliar with economic theory. The Archer-class Servant Gilgamesh is a Great and Powerful Hero, stronger than any other in the series. He enacted his deeds long ago, and in addition to the power and wealth this initially brought him, he laid claim to the Gate of Babylon, a Capitalistic Means of Production that grows his strength from the work of others. In this current age he has thus become an unstoppable juggernaught who can throw his weight around anywhere in the Marketplace of Ideas. Obviously, Gilgamesh symbolises the tyrannical strength of a Corporation who has become too large, and managed to gain a Monopoly. Interestingly, we can see that his Villainy is linked to his growth and desire to expand, as he never possessed such horrific goals in pre-modern times, or when people had purposes that suited his goals. Interestingly, we know that Gilgamesh was at his most personable back in Ancient times when his friend Enkidu was present. This a clear commentary on the necessity of competition to cause healthier business structures. Spoiler: Rational Choice vs Behavioural Economics

One of the simplest and most basic Economic theorems-known as 'Rational Choice Theory'-is examined by the character of Medea ('Caster'). Rational Choice Theory is the assumption that all individuals within in an Economy will act within their own best interests, acting in order to maximise their profits and minimise their losses. This behavioural pattern is shown by Medea's first master, Atram Galiast. Atram is a skilled mage, backed by the Magus Association and equipped with a workshop full of human sacrifices that could massively empower Caster's Magic. With his support, she could easily achieve success in the Holy Grail War. She instead elects to kill him, release the sacrifices, and wander around without hope of survival. In this, we see that Nasu has chosen to support the converse theoreom that is Behavioural Economics. This is the psychology-based study of human behaviours that examines why humans embrace irrational behaviours that makes modelling human action in an economic model so difficult. Medea rejects her first master due to hatred of being bound, and yet embraces Souichirou Kuzuki for his kindness, in spite of the the tactical disadvantage his lack of magic brings. This demonstrates both how standard logical predictions of her actions fail, however once we understand her psychology better (such as the fact she would rather embrace temporary happiness with Kuzuki rather than seek the ideal perfection of a Holy Grail Wish), we become better able to understand her decisions. *Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Unlimited Blade Works, et al. ------------------------------------------------------------- AN: There, look at what you've all made me do. You crazy people. Also, I'm neither an Economist nor an expert on Fate lore, so I accept no blame for this being an illogical pile of absolute BS. We all knew that going in. I was planning to write up a section called 'Love Triangles as Symbolism for Competing Economic Social Systems', but it's 3am here, so I won't. I also didn't comment on all that 'Saberface' stuff, but that's because I know practically nothing about the 10 billion variations of Saber. If somebody wants to actually continue this, be my guest. I have no idea what my work ethic will be like in the morning. [Perk Activation: Sloth!] ....Seriously, feel free.

BlueHelix said:

The Symbology Of Saber In Economics (Or: I Really, Really, Hate Things Like Macroeconomics. Yorokobe, TehChron, frozenchicken, and Neroj. Feel free to critique, this is a half-assed attempt in between my analysis of the MotSR world, and developing my own quest idea.) One could put Saber into one of two possibilities: Keynesian economics, and a pure representation of capitalism. Let's begin with the Keynesian aspect. The ideal of Keynes is a planned economy, that "spends against the wind." Okay, let's break it down. This great plan, hatched by Uther Pendragon and Merlin, try to create something amazing, which is a symbol for the planners like those of Keynesian economics. And Keynes, for a large part, works in times of war, which basically is King Arthur's entire reign. The people unite, things go along to rationing and planning. In times of economic downturn, Keynes says to spend more and more, and to go into debt, which is a little similar to how Saber had to drain the resources of a village to go to war. And in times of economic surplus, one raises taxes and then pays those debts off, which shows in the prosperity of Camelot before it fell. In the perfect ideal of Keynes, also known as "Saber Lily," Keynes works perfectly, with it being a utopian ideal that whenever things go wrong, the government will intervene. On the other hand, Hayek in "The Journey To Serfdom," envisions that this so-called planned economy will fail, and sets the ground for the total corruption of Keynes' ideas, which finally takes the form of in terms of TYPE-MOON as the inversion of Saber: Saber Alter. In between the range of Saber Lily to Saber Alter, from Mysterious Heroine X, to Saber Lion, to Nero, would be the variability of how Keynes' ideas actually worked out in the long run. Secondly, one could look at Saber, and at an extension of her, Camelot, through the lens of free-market capitalism. Saber begins at her journey, and has a really successful start: pulling the Sword of Owed Victory, Caliburn, out of the stone. However, this is really the beginning of a bubble, as she can no longer be a normal person, but rather has to be a king, which is exacerbated by how so many people put faith into her (a false representation at that, as they believed for her to be a male, and put a false set of expectations upon Arturia, putting an enormous task that she, and most of her counterparts, were doomed to failure), and put some truly significant investments into a stock that was higher-valued than its true value (such as Guinevere. And look at how that turned out.) For the longest while though, just like the post-World War I American economy, Saber, buoyed by support from so many, managed to get through the countless wars and competition. However, like all bubbles must eventually do, they burst. And the indicator for this was the eventual plateau of Camelot and Merlin (a vital investor/co-founder) leaving for better pastures (woman troubles.) Then came the confrontation by Mordred, who took so many of her knights (investors) away, leading to a civil war (Black Tuesday and the Great Depression.) Which all went to hell, leading to Arturia making a deal with Alaya (a government bailout), which as we all know, generally fails (Hoover, am I right? And really, Roosevelt as well, because it was the Second World War that revived the American Economy), which leads to a major conflict (Holy Grail War=World Wars. You could fit an enormous amount of connections and parallels here, especially how the Fourth is similar the the First World War, and the Fifth is similar to the Second World War) in order to rejuvenate our stocks (Saber) through the major investments and turnarounds (the Wishes), which usually are misused, and we head back to a depression after a peak (Angra Mainyu and the Corrupted Grail.) This continues on ad infinitum, with the hope that things will be better for the individual, similar to the Fate Route (that one quote I forgot where they say something along the lines that one has to seek forever, and the other will have to wait forever. Halp Bludflag), and maybe, it will work out, similar to the Avalon Bonus Episode: "Welcome back, Shirou."

Raguna Blade said:

Hm. Maybe? Although there's another pretty obvious bit in play here. As far as systems go I can't say but well... Ilya represents Old Money. Like Flat out. Her family is wealthy, one of the ancient and old magus families, they're the ones who functionally MADE the grail wars and the systems that everyone has to deal with, or at least has lived through their transitions, and compared to everyone else, they have a flat overwhelming advantage that simply cannot be surmounted by playing the game as it's supposed to be done. If, as the Grail Wars was supposed to be (basically a big ole tournament of heroic spirits fighting each other) went to plan, basically nobody in the running has a chance at victory. Ignoring Girugamesh for a second here, nobody else was remotely in Hercs range. Flat out, his ass SHOULD have won. And had things functioned as intended, had the other players not basically gone out of their way to get around it, he would have smashed them to pieces. Which, well, is actually a lot how it works with old money anyways. When you have the best education, the best tools, the money, the connections, and all that, it takes something coming from out of left field entirely or a variety of smaller systems and groups rising up to actually topple that power. Now of course I don't know the actual status of the Einzburn family's wealth and a quick wiki walk shows me little to say their exact financial standings, but it has been made clear that as of present the head of the family is basically sinking everything they have into making damn sure that they win the grail war. That is, they want to continue to win the system that they created/had a hand in creating for as long as possible and...Well, past acts in the Grail War Series has proven them to be kind of breaking down. Their attempts to game the system fail spectacularly (See that Whole Avenger thing) and functionally spells their doom down the line as the blow back from basically breaking the system they created keeps coming back to haunt them (Mud of the Grail My guys), while attempts to hire an outside agitator ultimately proves to be damnably effective, in giving the reigns to someone who they do not have perfect control over, it also further destabilizes their control over the system that they are inherently tied to. In fact, let's talk about Mr The Ends Have to Justify The Means for A second, Since he is, in fact, Our Girl Ilya's Old man. At least, as far as it goes with alchemic golemy nonsense. Not quite sure about the blood lines there. But we see him, and Kiritsugu is unquestionably an outsider to the system the Einzburn's have up and running. Oh yes, he is a magus, no doubt, but in the view of this, His family is fallen disgraced and can't claim old money status because well...Dudes poor as shit. Relatively. But the thing is, due to his nature as an outsider, because he's taken the time to grow up outside of the system, to develop and learn things in it, he comes to a very specific view of the world. What it represents in an economic sense isn't important for this here, but the important thing is that because of this, and then later training he acquired in order to pass through the world that he was an outsider of, He was better able to navigate in ways that others in the system simply couldn't conceive of. This of course lead to his ASTOUNDING success at the 4th Grail War, but because again he was fundamentally an outsider, he saw how clearly the system was broken by the time he won and had a choice in the matter. The System can't support itself anylonger, not in the way that it exists presently. It can only be destroyed, and built upon. So what's this to do with Ilya? Well, again, Ilya is Old Money. She has the resources, the connections, the education, the knowledge all that. She can do a tremendous amount. She can, in fact, just about grant the wish of any given person she wishes given those connections. I mean hell, she's literally the Holy Grail. She's literally the system she's built to work within. And as such, compared to the Einzburn Family as a whole, she has unparalleled power to shift control and ultimately destroy the system as she see's fit. And ultimately, in every single route she is dead or dying. Fate See's the system crumble around her, leaving her functionally on life support. Unlimited BLade Works See's the system Kill her itself for it's self (as repped by the glorious golden boy himself), before ultimately self destructing anyway. But Heavens Feel? Well, that's about the only route she has Agency as Grail-chan, and in here we see her, as far as true route's go, Sacrifice herself for Shirou, Underpaid Everyman with Anarchic Leanings. The system is breaking down and dying, and rather than let everything collapse into the rubble and close off any kind of hope for the future (such as it were) she gave a part of herself to those who most wish to abandon what ultimately proved to be a failure of a system, effectively trusting them with the power and resources and such to go forth and create a better tomorrow and all that. Alternatively, It's the Old Money using their powers for good, fostering the growth of a new system that will inevitably replace it down the line, given her existence as a opposite to the Grail that Sakura Represents. Which, Just for the moment, As Black And White Grails, the two play off each other interestingly in that the Matous Are ALSO old money with deep ties to the system. But where Black Grail Sakura could probably be described as Old Money lording it's power around to ill effects, Ilya would essentially be the opposite. Of course, that is a bit beyond what I'm able to play with here.

BlueHelix said:

Okay, first off, someone compile the shitposts about Rin and distill it into something coherent. It is literally that easy, and I'm way too exhausted to do that right now. I think what you're going with here is that Sakura symbolizes those that are under the "capitalist boot" that look to communism as a better alternative, like how Sakura is hot for Shirou. And Shirou is definitely a communist, wanting to save everyone and all that. Actually, the Emiyas could represent the parts of Asia that turned to communism (spits to the side). Norikata Emiya, who went all in towards the pursuit of advancing himself (actually, most hardcore magi) would fit the bad part of free-market capitalism. Such as the big corporations stepping over the people, oil companies and factories polluting the earth, etc., he and ruthless magi represent those who cast others down for their goals of greed and similar actions. And he gets shot by his son after screwing things up royally. Make of that what you will. Now, I'm going to only talk about Natalia, Kiritsugu's sensei, briefly. I'm going to put her as the original capitalists that turned to communism. She has a Russian name, after all. So she represents Russia, who then taught Kiritsugu (other to-be communist states), all she knew (communism/Marxism). And then Kiritsugu has that dream/ideal of being a superhero, to save everyone (haha definitely communism there), which then, after Natalia's death (the reality of a communist state after the "glorious revolution"), turns him into a ruthless machine (Lenin in his first decade or so). However, after taking a job from a third party to win the Fourth Holy Grail War (World War II connection), he meets Irisviel and fathers Illya, significantly mellowing him out (New Economic Policy). At the end, however, the true vision of his dream (the failures of communism: Stalin. Great Leap Forward. Five Year Plans. et al.) is shown to be horrific, which then forces him to cast aside his dream. Then he passes down the ideal of his dream to Shirou. I think basically anyone could make an easy amount of connections between Shirou Emiya and communism. He wants to save the world. He fights against Gilgamesh (the 1% bourgeoisie lording over the poor proletariat), Kirei (the cruel rich finding joy in abusing the poor and others), and Dark Sakura (dark side of capitalism incarnate). He is the "imitation that surpasses the original" (refined "communism" that China, Vietnam, and others have that have outlasted Soviet Russia, the OG communist state, which could technically be Gilgamesh in the sense of being the "original," Natalia on account of being Russian, and Kiritsugu who passed the dream down). He creates an infinite amount of swords with his Reality Marble which then he distributes for the "greater good." And of course: Shirou's inherently self destructive unless something happens to change him. Archer anybody? Edit: I'm done with economic analysis for today. Need to get some rest for the next exams.

Mortifer said:

Okay, okay, how do I sound smart when I know nothing about economics... Uh... Well, the thing about Shinji is that he is, as per canon, actually rather knowledgeable about the theory behind Magecraft, He's just utterly incapable of using it. And his main reason for hating Sakura isn't that she can Magecraft, but that Sakura pitied him for it. He hated that. So, uh... I give up, I don't know economics. Maybe he represents something to do with putting in a lot of effort but not having anything to start with and might be commentary on how being born without advantages is nigh impossible a goal to overcome? I don't know, I don't economics, I should really just shut up before I say something objectively wrong and stupid-sounding. ...Actually, that's never stopped me before. Shinji's backstory friendship with Shirou is symbolic of how those who are disadvantaged in the system may embrace anarchism because the current system isn't working for them, and the two of them stopped being friends when Shirou found out Shinji hit Sakura, which is symbolic of... ...Something... Abusing flaws in a system to progress when the system itself isn't working for them? Criminal activity when legit methods don't work for them I don't know, I'm blanking on how to pretend I know what I'm talking about without getting political and even I refuse to touch the cancer known as politics. Maybe the relationship between Shinji and Sakura can be vaguely considered to be charity? Shinji doesn't care about Sakura, just the benefits he can get from her, but as soon as Shinji starts seeking too much from Sakura she cuts him off. By killing him. Yeah, if I keep following this train of thought I'm going to end up concluding that Sakura's killing Shinji is evidence that capitalism will eventually lead to The Purge so I'm gonna wait until someone else uses something I tossed around here in a way that makes sense and then I'll claim credit.

frozenchicken said:

The Economic Simulationism of the Fate Franchise Part 1-Economic Mechanisms Many compliments have been offered to Nasu for the depth of his worldbuilding, but very few discuss the blatant economic commentary hidden within his works. In particular, the Masters and Servants of the 5th Holy Grail War are each distinct commentaries on various Economic mechanisms and social systems. Mechanisms Spoiler: Large Corporations

The first of these mechanisms is one that is obvious even to those unfamiliar with economic theory. The Archer-class Servant Gilgamesh is a Great and Powerful Hero, stronger than any other in the series. He enacted his deeds long ago, and in addition to the power and wealth this initially brought him, he laid claim to the Gate of Babylon, a Capitalistic Means of Production that grows his strength from the work of others. In this current age he has thus become an unstoppable juggernaught who can throw his weight around anywhere in the Marketplace of Ideas. Obviously, Gilgamesh symbolises the tyrannical strength of a Corporation who has become too large, and managed to gain a Monopoly. Interestingly, we can see that his Villainy is linked to his growth and desire to expand, as he never possessed such horrific goals in pre-modern times, or when people had purposes that suited his goals. Interestingly, we know that Gilgamesh was at his most personable back in Ancient times when his friend Enkidu was present. This a clear commentary on the necessity of competition to cause healthier business structures. Spoiler: Rational Choice vs Behavioural Economics

One of the simplest and most basic Economic theorems-known as 'Rational Choice Theory'-is examined by the character of Medea ('Caster'). Rational Choice Theory is the assumption that all individuals within in an Economy will act within their own best interests, acting in order to maximise their profits and minimise their losses. This behavioural pattern is shown by Medea's first master, Atram Galiast. Atram is a skilled mage, backed by the Magus Association and equipped with a workshop full of human sacrifices that could massively empower Caster's Magic. With his support, she could easily achieve success in the Holy Grail War. She instead elects to kill him, release the sacrifices, and wander around without hope of survival. In this, we see that Nasu has chosen to support the converse theoreom that is Behavioural Economics. This is the psychology-based study of human behaviours that examines why humans embrace irrational behaviours that makes modelling human action in an economic model so difficult. Medea rejects her first master due to hatred of being bound, and yet embraces Souichirou Kuzuki for his kindness, in spite of the the tactical disadvantage his lack of magic brings. This demonstrates both how standard logical predictions of her actions fail, however once we understand her psychology better (such as the fact she would rather embrace temporary happiness with Kuzuki rather than seek the ideal perfection of a Holy Grail Wish), we become better able to understand her decisions. Part 2- Love Triangles as a Symbol of Competing Economic Models Whilst Financial mechanisms can greatly influence the Global Economy, they are all ultimately subordinate to the various social and Economic systems championed by various nations. This is displayed most clearly in the form of the Masters of the Holy Grail War, particularly Shirou and his assorted romantic interests. Spoiler: Advertising and PR is an important part of the Capitalist System

Tohsaka Rin is perhaps the simplest of the Masters to classify, as her connection to the Capitalist Model has many facets. She is an ambitious young Mage, who desires to work hard in the Holy Grail War so as to achieve success. This expresses itself as desire for a Wish, but also a desire to obtain the Wealth her family once had. Indeed, Nasu makes her connection to finance even more obvious by literally using valuable jewels to store and empower her magic. Moreover, her Capitalistic Philosophy is displayed by the way she not only uses her own efforts, but suborns other Economic systems and models into alliance with herself, and as seen in the UBW Route she even purchases The Means of Production (Saber) for herself and rides her accumulating asset-derived wealth to a successful circumstance. It is perhaps easy to think of Rin as having an unkind philosophy, but it is eventually shown that her pragmatic outlook is simply a way of creating a stable platform of success that she can use to enact her desired philanthropies. Spoiler: Anarchism as an Adaptively Symbiotic Social Construct

The character of Shirou began as a blank protagonist in the F/SN visual novel, who progressed into an Amnesiac anime protagonist with many love interests, multiple established 'Routes' of development and the ability to copy the weapons of others. It is therefore no surprise to say he represents a sort of Symbiotic Anarchy, that is extremely flexible, born from rejection of the ideals of previous systems (as represented by The Revolution), and yet willing to ally with other Economic systems that he believes will align well with him. Though his Anarchistic Philosophy is lacking obvious markers of a particular Economic Policy, he does maintain a clear ideological philosophy that represents itself as a rejection of the unphilanthropic mechanisms of the systems of the past, which is also displayed by an initial fondness for the philanthropic basis of Socialism (Sakura). However, as events continue, he finds himself strongly connected to the will of the People (Saber) and eventually comes into a symbiotic alliance with Rin (Anarcho-Capitalism). One of Shirou's best traits is his adaptability, as he later gains the ability to copy the Economic Mechanisms of other systems. However, he must be careful with his development lest he end up as something he despises (as symbolised by Archer). Spoiler: The Pitfalls of an Idealised Philanthropic EconomyTo build on the earlier analysis, the kind-hearted Sakura initially represents Socialism, and the worms within her are a metaphor for how such centralised power attracts corrupt interests who seek to gain control of everything. The routes where Shinji takes over show one vision of how this can end, as a decadent and corrupt Communist governmental system that replaces her, and exploits the efforts of the past, with his extreme incompetence symbolising the degradation of the state until an eventual collapse. Dark Sakura is the other end of the situation, where the self-interested powers seize control of the state mechanisms, maintaining a coherent Facist government at the cost of perverting the kind-natured original designs of the economic system. Spoiler: The Idealised Economy as represented by a Magical Girl

Illya represents the dream of a post-scarcity economy. She is artificial, shares a parent with Anarchism, her unaging youth shows just how far we are away from achieving that dream, and (much like Sakura) her potential as a Grail Vessel shows the hopeful, dream-like nature of their systems and how they are vulnerable to degradation/corruption. Herakles (and his 12 Labours) symbolises the impossible difficulties involved in achieving such a dream, but also the impossible strength of such a system if it were actually achieved. (Continued in the next post, as SB has an Image Limit).

frozenchicken said:

Part 3- Economic Analysis and The People Economic Systems of the Past Spoiler: Rejection of the Old and the Revolutions that followWe can see that Natalia rejects the old systems and turns away from them, but it is Kiritsugu who is the most interesting representation of this aspect, as he is The Revolution. He enlists the help of the Masses (as represented by Saber), and then proceeds to destroy all the existing power structures. His path is bloody and destructive, he fails to achieve his goals and in the end his victory only ends in disillusionment as he destroys the unrealistic hopes presented by the Holy Grail. However, in the wake of his passing, two new philosophies, Shirou (Anarchism) and Illya (Post-Scarcity) come to be. Spoiler: The limitations of Theory when contrasted against Pragmatism

The final aspect of Fate to be analysed is The Holy Grail, which represents the Grand Theories of Economists, with each wish being an idealised end state of various economic models-and the cursed nature shows they all eventually fail to predict how human agency alters events, causing the models to go off-track. Shirou (Anarchism) does not have a specific Wish in mind, but may react in a manner determined by circumstance. Saber has multiple desires, that may include allying herself to other economic systems, seeking a perfect state for capitalism to operate by, or perhaps even rejecting the truth of trickle-down economics and attempting to remove the elitist mechanisms of the capitalist state-as represented by herself. All the manifestations of the Grail that interact with a member of the Matou family seem to end badly for them, and though an ideal state could be found, most have given up hope of that. Special Thanks to Raguna, Blue Helix, Last Sanction and also to Karugus for coming up with that 'Invisible Hand' line. Oh, and also Mortifier whose lengthy contribution ended up...well, it's quality, not quantity that matters, right?

[preciousmetals0]

Canopy’s Cash Crash; Cyber Contract; Costco Cleans Up

Canopy’s Cash Crash; Cyber Contract; Costco Cleans Up:

Friday Four Play: The “Roof Is on Fire” Edition

If you had the “riots and looting” square on your Revelations bingo card … today’s your day. Go ahead and cover that square up. It’s been that kind of year, you know.

And if you’re still worried about covering up that “World War III” square … don’t give up hope just yet. President Trump spoke on U.S.-China relations today, taking a hard line against Beijing’s new Hong Kong security law.

Outside of Revelations bingo, the U.S. Commerce Department reported that April consumer spending plummeted 13.6% in April. It was the largest drop since the government started to track consumer spending in 1959.

And finally, President Trump and Twitter Inc. (Nasdaq: TWTR) are locked in an online death match over free speech. I’m honestly surprised neither side has Godwin-ed this debate yet. Give it time, though. This is an internet fight, after all.

My, aren’t we just bursting at the seams with good news today?

Wait … I have some good news just for Great Stuff readers! (And no, it isn’t that I saved a bunch of money on my car insurance.)

Even amid all the carnage, Paul Mampilly found a company that he believes is set to soar 300% or more in the coming months. On Tuesday, Paul issued a broadcast covering his simple strategy that has helped him pull these double- and triple-digit winners from the market year in and year out.

(Psst, this is the “300 Event” that I was telling you about!) And it’s not too late to check out Paul’s interview covering this strategy.

Click here to see it before the video is taken offline.

And now for something completely different … here’s your Friday Four Play:

No. 1: Crushed Canopy Leaving Linton

Canopy Growth Corp. (NYSE: CGC) finally ditched its spendthrift past.

The Canadian cannabis company reported a fiscal fourth-quarter loss of C$1.3 billion, or C$3.72 per share. Most of Canopy’s loss came from a C$750 million write-down due to unprofitable spending projects. Those projects were the brainchild (brainchildren?) of former CEO and founder Bruce “Loose with the Loonies” Linton.

And if you think that’s an unfair characterization of Linton, just note that Canopy had negative cash flow of C$1.5 billion last year under his leadership.

The rest of Canopy’s problems, however, arose from falling cannabis demand. In fact, sales of “Cannabis 2.0” products such as softgels, oils and edibles fell 31% in the fourth quarter. It’s not a positive sign — especially when your main customer base is stuck at home with nothing to do but get high.

Given that the last of Linton’s heavy spending is now off the books, Canopy may indeed turn things around going forward. As such, today’s 20% haircut could be a buying opportunity.

Still, before giving it the Great Stuff stamp of approval, I’d like to see sales improve in the Cannabis 2.0 department … and overall.

No. 2: The Cost of Being Clean

We all knew that bulk toilet paper purchases weren’t enough to sustain Costco Wholesale Corp. (Nasdaq: COST) for long — but I think analysts got a little too excited about those prospects.

Costco reported fiscal third-quarter earnings last night and whiffed on both top-line and bottom-line expectations. On the bright side, sales were up 7% year over year. Same-store sales rose 4.8% and online sales spiked 65%.

In the end, however, Costco’s best efforts just weren’t enough to live up to Wall Street’s standards. Earnings came up $0.07 short of expectations, while revenue was $550 million shy of the consensus estimate.

The biggest detractor was a $283 million pretax charge “from incremental wage and sanitation costs related to COVID-19.” Aah, the hidden costs of keeping shoppers and workers safe.

Well, they’re not hidden costs — just unexpected costs. OK, they’re expected costs, just not by the geniuses who guessed what Costco would earn last quarter amid a freaking pandemic.

I have to say: Despite the company missing analysts’ expectations, Costco is among the most stable retailers to invest in as we head into whatever the economy and market throw at us this year.

It’s right up there with Walmart Inc. (NYSE: WMT), Amazon.com Inc. (Nasdaq: AMZN) and The Kroger Co. (NYSE: KR). I also hear that Target Corp. (NYSE: TGT) is on fire right now — too soon?

Editor’s Note: Predicting what stocks will do before earnings is pure speculation. That’s why earnings expert Chad Shoop waits till after the earnings dust settles … and then strikes on his “profit trigger.” Learn how you can too. Click here!

No. 3: GE’s Larry Is Very Scary

Can investors not get this through their heads? Right now, airplanes and airline travel = bad.

This will remain true until a cure or vaccine is available for COVID-19. It’s a fact that General Electric Co. (NYSE: GE) CEO Larry Culp reiterated this week — a reminder that GE shareholders didn’t want.

“GECAS, not surprisingly, is seeing a good bit of pressure here relative to customer deferrals,” Culp said Thursday. GECAS is short for GE Capital Aviation Services, i.e., GE’s aircraft financing arm.

Culp also noted that second-quarter industrial free cash flow would be between negative $3.5 billion and negative $4.5 billion. Finally, write-downs related to the company’s aviation backlog would grow in the same quarter.

This little revelation caused GE stock to drop from Robinhood’s No. 1 most-held stock to No. 2. behind Ford Motor Co. (NYSE: F). Still, No. 2 for a company that relies on the airline industry amid a pandemic?

If you’re invested in GE right now, you probably believe that the COVID-19 situation will get better sooner rather than later. Bully for you. Personally, I’m not that optimistic.

No. 4: Virtual Virus-Fighting

If Costco was among the first household-name stocks people bought for the pandemic, Zscaler Inc. (Nasdaq: ZS) might’ve been one of the last. And if any of you out there have been riding Zscaler’s 142% post-crash Zsurge, let me know … Zseriously.

(What? Adding “Z” to things isn’t hyper radical anymore? Pshh … take me back to ’95.)

Other than sounding like a knockoff shower cleaner, Zscaler just made it to the cybersecurity sector’s VIP back lounge. The golden ticket? A freshly inked Department of Defense contract.

See, most cyber defense stocks are a dime a dozen these days, with a few rare exceptions. The only difference is that, this decade, cybersecurity now has “cloud” in front of it. Ain’t that futuristic!

But the Defense Department’s contract lends some credence to Zscaler’s security chops. It proves the company can hack it at the international level against some serious threats.

At the very least, it was a cheap-enough deal. We’re talking about government contracts, after all.

Throw in some work-from-home magic, and you’ve got a cyber-security champ. Zscaler also reported that revenue shot up 40% to hit $110.5 million — and earnings more than doubled what analysts expected.

With its impressive quarter boosting the stock to all-time highs, ZS investors — whomever they may be — can go into the weekend giddy with glee.

From obscurity to … somewhat less obscurity, Zscaler proved that it isn’t your Norton antivirus, no sir or ma’am. And if you’re still paying out your hard-earned cyber cash on that “virus disguised as antivirus” … let’s talk.

Great Stuff: Solitude Is Bliss

Dear reader, between the time I click “send” and the time you read this…

I hope World War III hasn’t been declared or that the world hasn’t gone up in (more) flames … and that the daytime shoppers haven’t bought all the good toilet paper by the time I get to the store.

We sincerely hope you stay safe and well out there! And do try to have a good weekend — regardless of whatever Twitter battles wage into the wee hours! Take some time to stretch your bones and recharge. We here at Great Stuff certainly will.

And while you’re relaxing, send a message to GreatStuffToday@BanyanHill.com with any comments, questions or random tangents and diatribes. You can always hear more from us on Facebook and Twitter too.

Until next time, stay Great!

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff

[goldira01]

Friday Four Play: The “Roof Is on Fire” Edition

If you had the “riots and looting” square on your Revelations bingo card … today’s your day. Go ahead and cover that square up. It’s been that kind of year, you know.

And if you’re still worried about covering up that “World War III” square … don’t give up hope just yet. President Trump spoke on U.S.-China relations today, taking a hard line against Beijing’s new Hong Kong security law.

Outside of Revelations bingo, the U.S. Commerce Department reported that April consumer spending plummeted 13.6% in April. It was the largest drop since the government started to track consumer spending in 1959.

And finally, President Trump and Twitter Inc. (Nasdaq: TWTR) are locked in an online death match over free speech. I’m honestly surprised neither side has Godwin-ed this debate yet. Give it time, though. This is an internet fight, after all.

My, aren’t we just bursting at the seams with good news today?

Wait … I have some good news just for Great Stuff readers! (And no, it isn’t that I saved a bunch of money on my car insurance.)

Even amid all the carnage, Paul Mampilly found a company that he believes is set to soar 300% or more in the coming months. On Tuesday, Paul issued a broadcast covering his simple strategy that has helped him pull these double- and triple-digit winners from the market year in and year out.

(Psst, this is the “300 Event” that I was telling you about!) And it’s not too late to check out Paul’s interview covering this strategy.

Click here to see it before the video is taken offline.

And now for something completely different … here’s your Friday Four Play:

No. 1: Crushed Canopy Leaving Linton

Canopy Growth Corp. (NYSE: CGC) finally ditched its spendthrift past.

The Canadian cannabis company reported a fiscal fourth-quarter loss of C$1.3 billion, or C$3.72 per share. Most of Canopy’s loss came from a C$750 million write-down due to unprofitable spending projects. Those projects were the brainchild (brainchildren?) of former CEO and founder Bruce “Loose with the Loonies” Linton.

And if you think that’s an unfair characterization of Linton, just note that Canopy had negative cash flow of C$1.5 billion last year under his leadership.

The rest of Canopy’s problems, however, arose from falling cannabis demand. In fact, sales of “Cannabis 2.0” products such as softgels, oils and edibles fell 31% in the fourth quarter. It’s not a positive sign — especially when your main customer base is stuck at home with nothing to do but get high.

Given that the last of Linton’s heavy spending is now off the books, Canopy may indeed turn things around going forward. As such, today’s 20% haircut could be a buying opportunity.

Still, before giving it the Great Stuff stamp of approval, I’d like to see sales improve in the Cannabis 2.0 department … and overall.

No. 2: The Cost of Being Clean

We all knew that bulk toilet paper purchases weren’t enough to sustain Costco Wholesale Corp. (Nasdaq: COST) for long — but I think analysts got a little too excited about those prospects.

Costco reported fiscal third-quarter earnings last night and whiffed on both top-line and bottom-line expectations. On the bright side, sales were up 7% year over year. Same-store sales rose 4.8% and online sales spiked 65%.

In the end, however, Costco’s best efforts just weren’t enough to live up to Wall Street’s standards. Earnings came up $0.07 short of expectations, while revenue was $550 million shy of the consensus estimate.

The biggest detractor was a $283 million pretax charge “from incremental wage and sanitation costs related to COVID-19.” Aah, the hidden costs of keeping shoppers and workers safe.

Well, they’re not hidden costs — just unexpected costs. OK, they’re expected costs, just not by the geniuses who guessed what Costco would earn last quarter amid a freaking pandemic.

I have to say: Despite the company missing analysts’ expectations, Costco is among the most stable retailers to invest in as we head into whatever the economy and market throw at us this year.

It’s right up there with Walmart Inc. (NYSE: WMT), Amazon.com Inc. (Nasdaq: AMZN) and The Kroger Co. (NYSE: KR). I also hear that Target Corp. (NYSE: TGT) is on fire right now — too soon?

Editor’s Note: Predicting what stocks will do before earnings is pure speculation. That’s why earnings expert Chad Shoop waits till after the earnings dust settles … and then strikes on his “profit trigger.” Learn how you can too. Click here!

No. 3: GE’s Larry Is Very Scary

Can investors not get this through their heads? Right now, airplanes and airline travel = bad.

This will remain true until a cure or vaccine is available for COVID-19. It’s a fact that General Electric Co. (NYSE: GE) CEO Larry Culp reiterated this week — a reminder that GE shareholders didn’t want.

“GECAS, not surprisingly, is seeing a good bit of pressure here relative to customer deferrals,” Culp said Thursday. GECAS is short for GE Capital Aviation Services, i.e., GE’s aircraft financing arm.

Culp also noted that second-quarter industrial free cash flow would be between negative $3.5 billion and negative $4.5 billion. Finally, write-downs related to the company’s aviation backlog would grow in the same quarter.

This little revelation caused GE stock to drop from Robinhood’s No. 1 most-held stock to No. 2. behind Ford Motor Co. (NYSE: F). Still, No. 2 for a company that relies on the airline industry amid a pandemic?

If you’re invested in GE right now, you probably believe that the COVID-19 situation will get better sooner rather than later. Bully for you. Personally, I’m not that optimistic.

No. 4: Virtual Virus-Fighting

If Costco was among the first household-name stocks people bought for the pandemic, Zscaler Inc. (Nasdaq: ZS) might’ve been one of the last. And if any of you out there have been riding Zscaler’s 142% post-crash Zsurge, let me know … Zseriously.

(What? Adding “Z” to things isn’t hyper radical anymore? Pshh … take me back to ’95.)

Other than sounding like a knockoff shower cleaner, Zscaler just made it to the cybersecurity sector’s VIP back lounge. The golden ticket? A freshly inked Department of Defense contract.

See, most cyber defense stocks are a dime a dozen these days, with a few rare exceptions. The only difference is that, this decade, cybersecurity now has “cloud” in front of it. Ain’t that futuristic!

But the Defense Department’s contract lends some credence to Zscaler’s security chops. It proves the company can hack it at the international level against some serious threats.

At the very least, it was a cheap-enough deal. We’re talking about government contracts, after all.

Throw in some work-from-home magic, and you’ve got a cyber-security champ. Zscaler also reported that revenue shot up 40% to hit $110.5 million — and earnings more than doubled what analysts expected.

With its impressive quarter boosting the stock to all-time highs, ZS investors — whomever they may be — can go into the weekend giddy with glee.

From obscurity to … somewhat less obscurity, Zscaler proved that it isn’t your Norton antivirus, no sir or ma’am. And if you’re still paying out your hard-earned cyber cash on that “virus disguised as antivirus” … let’s talk.

Great Stuff: Solitude Is Bliss

Dear reader, between the time I click “send” and the time you read this…

I hope World War III hasn’t been declared or that the world hasn’t gone up in (more) flames … and that the daytime shoppers haven’t bought all the good toilet paper by the time I get to the store.

We sincerely hope you stay safe and well out there! And do try to have a good weekend — regardless of whatever Twitter battles wage into the wee hours! Take some time to stretch your bones and recharge. We here at Great Stuff certainly will.

And while you’re relaxing, send a message to GreatStuffToday@BanyanHill.com with any comments, questions or random tangents and diatribes. You can always hear more from us on Facebook and Twitter too.

Until next time, stay Great!

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff

[axmedbahjad]

The Roadmap To Wealth

First Thing First - Where Am I? “Unexamined life is not worth living.” — Socrates. I cannot go forward until I am honest with myself. Primarily, I must know where I am. I am working for a company. Like millions of people, I went to university and then hoping I’d work and earn decent wages. It turned out that was a big mistake. University does not guarantee financial independence. One will be an educated servant. And to be frank, I’m one of those who despise working for companies, governments or organisations. Instead, I love working for myself by providing service and products to companies, organisations and maybe governments. Still, there is no security for being an employee. People are made redundant. Some found their true calling after life pushed them around. Surely you’ve heard of the saying that necessity is the mother of invention. Before it’s too late I want to get out of being employee scenario. The future of the culture is uncertain. Think about the economic and political crisis. Brexit is a good proof that the Western politics and economy is in a bad shape. In addition to that, thousands of jobs are going away and they won’t come back. The living expenses are on the rise while the salaries are stagnant. “In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” — Sun Tzu. If I want to be wealth, I must do things differently. So, I have decided to write a roadmap for my way to be financially independent. These are seven simple steps I must walk in that effort. This concise book with the seven simple steps is my road to accumulate wealth. The book could have extended 200 pages I shortened it for the sake of simplicity and clarity. Chapter 1 — Know Yourself Well “Know yourself Ill, know others and victory is certain.” — Sun Tzu. There is one area I will be looking at in this segment; namely, character. Character Traits Faith — I have to work on my faith of the future. Strength — I have been learning how to deal with disappointments and challenges. I’m getting better than three years ago. Selfless — I must put other people before myself. Service — I must provide service and go the extra mile. Acceptance — I must be comfortable with the things I cannot change and change the ones I can. Courage — I must have the courage to change the things in myself and community. Concentration — the single important quality of an excellent mind is the ability to concentrate and shut out all else. Diligence — work is vital for the human mind and body. Work smartly. After all, hard doesn't bring wealth. Love — loving is good. Morality — I’m conservative in many ways when it comes to Detachment — I must do the work and focus on the process rather than the results. Patience — if I have done my work diligently, I must have the ability to wait the result. Perseverance — If I start something, I must complete without discouragement. Purity — cleanliness is everything. I must take care of my clothes, shoes, beddings and so on. Self-Restraint — the ability to uphold myself from going out while everyone is going out, to drink alcohol, sodas and smoke cigarettes and overeating foods. Sincerity — I must be sincere even when I’m wrong. Truthfulness — truth over everything is the best quality to have. Character traits I must avoid Conceit — narcissism and excessive self-loving is bad idea for the long run. Criticism — I used to criticise policies and bad behaviours. I don't do criticism. It is a waste of time. Jealousy — this is a disease and it kills the jealous person sooner or later. Laziness — it is another human disease. Whenever I think about taking action and I think about the weather or the long hours that thing may take, I do it anyway. Partiality — half hearted is not the good way of doing work. Want of Fame — doing something for the sake of being famous is narcissism. I leave that for Obama and Trump and other ambitious folks. Want of Sympathy — Talking about my challenges is not the right to solve them. I avoid to receive sympathy. Self-Inventory I usually talk to strangers. And thus connect with them easily. Therefore, my personality suits customer service provider. I’m good at communicating with people. Essentially, I get along with people from different walks of life because I know what to say and not say in human relations. Therefore, I am a good salesperson. I know what people want. And I know how to provide their needs well. According to Napoleon Hill, there are 25 ways to develop a pleasing personality 1 Positive Mental Attitude- The right mental attitude in any given situation. The most important aspect of a Attractive Personality. Symbolised by Faith, integrity, hope, optimism, courage, initiative, generosity, tolerance, kindliness, tact, and common sense. 2 Flexibility- Being able to adapt yourself to changing circumstances. 3 Sincerity of Purpose- Insincerity is evident on your expressions. 4 Promptness of Decision- Messing around doesn't create popularity. 5 Courtesy- Respect other peoples feelings. 6 Tact- Doing and saying the right things at the right moments. 7 Tone of Voice- Control your tone of voice so it creates meaning. 8 Habit of Smiling- Smile when your angry. 9 Facial Expressions- You can tell whats going on with a person by their expressions. 10 Tolerance- Being fair toward all opinions. 11 Frankness of Speech and Manner- Be honest and tell the truth. 12 A Sense of Humour- Allows you and others to relax. 13 Faith in Intelligence- Faith is the essence of all great achievement. 14 The Appropriate use of words- Careful and attentive effort. 15 Effective Speech- You will become a powerful communicator. 16 Emotional Control- Much of what we do is directed by our feelings. 17 Alertness of Interest- Show the people you interact with that you interested. 18 Versatility- Know what your talking about or don’t say anything. 19 Fondness for People- Like others, and you will be liked in return. 20 Humility- Do not brag 21 Effective Showmanship- Let others know they are doing great. 22 Clean Sportsmanship- Lose without complaining. 23 A good handshake- A firm and friendly handshake. 24 Personal Magnetism- Feel good about yourself. 25 A keen Sense of Justice- You cannot deal justly with others if your not just with yourself. Chapter 2 — Know Others Well “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win” ― Sun Tzu. It is always good to treat people with respect even if they are unkind to me. It is not about them! Every situation reveals my character in a nutshell. If a person swears or being rude to me and I react to his/her action, then I’m not mature enough to handle my life. There are three essentials for communication: 1 I must know when to initiate a conversation and when to stop. 2 I must know how to deal with both rude and kind people. 3 I must know how to talk with powerful and powerless. I used to be a debater at university and college. Moreover, I’d argue with people at teashops, bus stops and workplace. I realised (that) the people didn't want to accept evidence or acts, they just wanted to debate for the sake of being right even they ere wrong. I do not debate with people unless I know the other person is open to new evidence. Why? I learnt from wise people not to waste your time with trifle arguments. If I know people well, it will enable me to provide what they need. Overall, it will make easy to communicate with them. Chapter 3 — Build Strong Community Businesses "I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live." — George Bernard Shaw. “I cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibres connect us with our fellow men.” – Herman Melville. “If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” – African Proverb. I believe that the day the government ruled is coming to an end. And community is replacing its place. Community is more humane. It is about caring and sharing. It is about love. It’s putting people before money. It is about taking care of the elderly and the weakest in our midst. It is about give and take. Start Small Businesses “Great results, can be achieved with small forces.” ― Sun Tzu. I sat down and jot down some of the things my community needs. So I can provide some of these demands. People need a teacher, especially the adults even though they do not know it. The young adults need assistance of their homework. Thus, I can be a tutor. I can supply their fruits and bread and milk. I can make a deal with a farmer and supply these needs to the community. I can clean houses of careerists who don't have time for their own backyards. I can sell clothes on the street and online. I can massage health lovers. I can cook healthy homemade food. And start street food. These are some of the demands came to mind. There could be more business ideas if I do not stop there. For now, these are enough to keep me busy and strategise. Therefore, I will provide three of these needs. Chapter 4 — Resisting the Temptation “Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.” —Rumi. “The King is the man who can.” —Carlyle. “All the world cries, Where is the man who will save us? We want a man! Don't look so far for this man. You have him at hand. This man—it is you, it is I; it is each one of us!... How to constitute one's self a man? Nothing harder, if one knows not how to will it; nothing easier, if one wills it.” —Alexander Dumas. “Great results, can be achieved with small forces.” — Sun Tzu. It is time to do the right thing and preserve my individuality in a culture which abhors independent minds. It is time to have the courage to say” “No,” while all the world say: “Yes.” Chapter 5 — Where Is My Market? “Opportunities? They am all around us ... There is power lying latent everywhere waiting for the observant eye to discover it.” ― Orison Swett Marden. “Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand.” —Thomas Carlyle. “I will either find a way, or make one.” — Hannibal Barca. “You see, but you do not observe.” —Sherlock Holmes. Opportunities are everywhere. I can clean the wealth people’s houses, do massage, become nannie, tutor, and salesperson. I can improve existing services and products. I create new services and products. How about producing personal helicopters? So people can skip the traffic jam! How about becoming a playwright and screenwriter? I can describe the mundane of every day life. And find the good things about living in a life of routine. Opportunities are what I want. If I don't know what I want, then I can provide what others want. Chapter 6 — Share My Experiences “Learn From Yesterday, Live for Today, hope for tomorrow.” ― Orison Swett Marden. It’s been said that we remember what write down. We better remember what we teach. There is no better way to learn than teaching the little one already knows. Moreover, it is a good way to share one’s experience and knowledge. These are three ways I share what I’m doing or know: I blog my unfinished or finished work; I tweet quotations of my books; and email some people in my list. I also take action by going guerrilla marketing on the streets of the city I’m in. For example, I have a little stall and give free advice about marketing, business ideas, health and creative writing. It is a good way to let others know you are still around. More importantly, it is rewarding to help folks. After all, sharing is caring. Chapter 7 — Daily Learning “The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.” — Antonio Gramsci. There are 7 ways I can engage in daily learning. The first way to learn is to listen to good books, conversation and stories daily. Second, it is to read beneficial books. Third, it is apprenticeship ourselves. I must do things I want to get better at it daily. Fourth, attending seminars and workshop is essential. Fifth, draw and write what you experienced. Sixth, I must be part of a learning group. Seventh, I must write a diary to monitor my activities and what I want to learn. Learn three things above anything else: Religion, moneymaking and health lifestyle. Niebuhr said that religion is good people and bad for bad people. Religion is good for the soul. It’s our duty to praise our Creator. Learn and master the art of selling. It is the best way to accumulate wealth. Learn something new every day. Summing up, I have identified seven steps to becoming wealth. They are simple and short to understand them. Having said that, they are hard to follow in times like these. We have so much distractions—smartphones, television, news, soup operas and political shows. After self-inventorying myself, I realise it is not so much about what I do should. Rather, it is what I don't do, for example, getting  rid of bad habits; checking my smartphone, emails, socialising with people I cannot learn something new and going out. In addition to that, I have stopped spending money on designer clothes, holidays, tea, coffee, bus and toothpaste. By the way, I use Somali tooth stick. It’s healthier and cheaper. I have to add that bit just in case some of you interpret it I’m no longer into oral hygiene. In Conclusion Lovely readers, You are reading this because you want to change your current lifestyle or inquisitive to know what is out there. If you have learnt something new or motivated by this concise book, you must share it with someone you care about. Sharing is caring. Thank you and I wish you every success! Axmed Bahjad, the author.

[topicprinter]

I made a comment the other day on a post on here that was quite poignant to me and was related to possibly the biggest theme in my own life the last 2 years.I don't come on here much and rarely comment. I'm not sure why I come to r/rentreprenuer these days but I think it's because I find it interesting to browse through what goes through other peoples minds in relation to this subject. I tend to see the same things repeat themselves quite often and I guess I just kind of have an urge to get a few things off of my chest that I hope may help a couple of you out.If anything I say on these posts comes across as negative or harsh towards 'wantrapreneurs' or early starters, please forgive me- I too have been where they are several times throughout my career and I have made many many mistakes.(Pre post edit- I've added the * symbol to sentences where I may trigger offence but in fact this is something I have been guilty of myself)There are several crossovers within the points which I maybe should tie up and summarise at some point and please bear in mind that other than emails I am not an experienced or particularly good writer.Well here goes... I'm going to start with a few 'Don't Do's'.Aiming for the StarsOnce or twice a year I meet up with an old army buddy of mine. Every so often we do it in his home town and he brings a couple of his mates from school he still drinks with- every damn time there's this one guy who calls me Mr Money (I don't think Im anywhere as wealthy as he thinks I am) . He's obsessed with money and entrepreneurship despite never having set anything up himself, he quickly turns the conversation to my current and previous endeavours and then proceeds to start pitching me with some of his own.I think what annoys me the most about him is that he reminds me of how naive and pie in the sky I was myself in my early twenties. Most of his ideas are either far too lofty and ambitious to be the basis of a credible starting point or are too complicated/ niche/ in an unknown market to be in any way feasible to make a start on.The worst part though is that these ideas always have the aim of making millions.I have personally lost more by either giving up or not putting enough effort into ventures that would be nice little earners because of they were exactly just that. When I was 24 I completely messed a business that turned over half a million and paid me personally about 80k because I didn't think it was scalable enough to make me a millionaire by the time I am the age I am now.I'm still not a millionaire and other than by creeping over the line at some point by the way of investments I have no real desire to be.My advice to anyone starting out is to think small... like really small. And really simple.The smaller and simpler it is, the easier it will be to start. It will also make it easier to replace yourself by paying someone else to do most or all of the work for you. You can then work on expanding the business and/or diversifying your business interests.My position now is that I have several 'nice little earners' and am in the process of starting another. The bulk of my weeks work is in what I call my 'job business' where I am basically a part time consultant to a large multinational. The remainder is on my side hustles. These side hustles employ people who do most of the work and my role is in providing the direction and authority that most people need (more on this later).The main thing on these side hustles is that they are fairly run of the mill, they're not that 'economies of scalable' and they're in no way revolutionary.They're just simple, startable, runnable and profitable businesses.Looking for too much adviceThis should really head up the list. The fact that many of you are here will be that you are looking for advice*. Like I said in my opening comment, Im not looking to put anyone down.My own searching for the missing secret, that one little tip (or list of a hundred) or that 'thing' that I was clearly missing has cost me more than anything else, if not more than every other mistake combined.If I had just trusted my gut more and worked through a few more (as Bob Ross puts it) Happy Little Accidents I would have gotten to where I am now far sooner and far more enjoyably the first time round.​We don't know what we don't know- this much is true. But the important thing to get clear on is- How much do I need to know right now?​Overcoming the anxiety of not knowing everything one would ever need to know to make a success of things and just getting going and keeping moving is probably one of the biggest contributors to success I have seen in others and is certainly the biggest in my own rise from the ashes.One of the main reasons I feel qualified to write on this subject is not just my own 'average success' but that fact that I am very fortunate to know and count among the friends of quite a large number of self made people. I'm not sure how unique I am in this respect but I think I must be somewhat unusual that many friends, family and friends of friends are business starter/ owners. As a keen observer and one time habitant of a special kind of 'Self Help Hell' I have spotted common themes in so many of them that I almost feel that I can't be wrong about them.My own going from a bit of a f&*k up to what I now consider to be a very ideal situation by aligning my own behaviour with the more useful ones that I have observed in those others, really validates to me what I've learned.​The reason I make and stress this point is that the things I have seen work for other people is almost entirely at odds as most of the things that the 'gurus' and self aggrandising entrepreneurs you see on youtube and on the top ten non fiction books list all the time.​One of the things that most of the gurus keep telling you is that you need to keep reading and learning and consuming everything that the 'success' industry has to offer. I completely disagree with this and other than a healthy interest in ones (slow and steady) personal development I really think that most of it should be avoided.I think we all learn better by simply doing and that there isn't really that much to learn.A) You don't need to know what the routines and habits of billionaires and ultra successful people are, besides, most of the writers of these types of books are more than likely way off about just how normal these 'superhuman' people really are.B) By reading a lot of this cr@p you are more than likely decreasing your chances of achieving your own version of average success. You may, as I did, get into the really bad habit of comparing yourself to people that are so far out of your league in terms of luck/ circumstance, confidence and natural ability that you can beat yourself into a depression.C) By reading the stories and autobiographies of famous entrepreneurs you are reading the story they like to tell, which will have to be in line with what they have told other people in private or at paid after dinner parties; and hence will unlikely be exactly the truth. There will also be a lot of a survivorship bias in their recollections of the epochs in their journey.​Not one of the really successful people I know did any of this searching for the holy grail of advice. In fact they almost all did the opposite- they got busy, trusted their gut and in multiple cases actively avoided external advice expect for single issue specific problems where they would speak to or hire a consultant.​By telling yourself that you will be able to do it if you can just read this list of a few more books or go to this seminar- you are telling yourself that you lack the actual natural ability that many successful people rely upon for the bulk of their progress.I'm not saying that some of the stuff in the plethora of books on the subject won't help at all in any way, but I am saying that you really don't need it and much of it is misleading, unnecessary and bad for your self esteem.I could probably bang on about this some more but I'm going to leave it at that for now.-You can do it and you don't need a motivational book to help you do so.​Desperation to have a business/ Lack of patience.One of the things I see on here a lot is really a desperation to be an entrepreneur and wanting to do so right now rather than later* (when conditions are more suitable) and while I suppose everybody's desire to do so will be as unique as them, I think a lot of people fall into the categories below.Sadly, again, I think that the self help industry and its regurgetators helps fuel the 'screw it just do it' mantra- but for myself and those that I know that have gone on to (eventually) do well, setting things up right and making each next step was on a firm footing have been key.Yes you have to take risks and sometimes fail* but throwing all caution to the wind and going all in on the first turn of the cards doesn't pay off in my experience.Here are some examples of desperation and impatience:Not fully understanding how money works and think the only to feel safe/ comfortable/ happy is to have lots more of it* and due to being also lower educated* that the only way out is to be a successful entrepreneur*. Jumping into starting a business before one is mentally and financially ready in order to cure a lack of wealth.For the vast majority of people who were born into the lower classes of wealth*, it's common to think that the best way to rid of the default empty insecure feeling is to have more money and that the only real option do so is to be a business owner- this is some ways true but can easily lead to desperation.- Learn to understand how money works and live below your means before you start trying to make more of it.​Feeling that one is different and hence somehow better than the majority of everyone else; and therefore should exist at the top of the food chain*. Starting a business rather than exist alongside the hoy polloi.Also somewhat true but can also easily lead to desparation.It wasn't until life turned me upside down and smacked my a$$ did I realise that humility felt better deep down and was more useful.- Get used to the fact that you are very very average in the big picture. You will be a better leader, salesman and producer/ purveyor of goods if you put your fellow man on an equal standing.​Hating something at work- either the job itself or someone in it.No * as only partially guilty here.Hating ones boss/ colleagues or feeling superior to the work can often be the source of desire for entrepreneurship and in my opinion is a bit of a recipe for disaster. If you are in this boat I really strongly recommend you learn how to tolerate and get on with people and the drudgery of boring work. Entrepreneurship has plenty of that in store for you.You will have a hard time with your staff, suppliers and customers if you can't put up with dealing with a few d!(kheads. While owning the business will give you a bit more choice and control over who you deal with and how, I think that people who find it hard to get on with people wherever they go tend to be the source of many of their own problems and will fair no better as the one in charge.- Learn how to get along with people before you start.- I dont believe in being manipulative in anyway but there are indeed some truly horrible people out there, you have to be able and willing to outsmart and feign commonality with them or they will take advantage of you.It's definitely not wrong to desire to be an entrepreneur and I dont suppose there really is a bad reason to start. I guess the point I'm making is that owning a business isn't a 'get out of a sh!tty situation' card but should be more of a chance to be a little bit more of yourself and to give the market a slightly better product or service than exists presently. Don't get involved with things you aren't capable of understanding and don't start for the wrong reasons and you should be okay.OverthinkingI said there was going to be some crossover here and I think this is one of them points.Too many people don't get started on things or start on the wrong things because they overthink key parts of the journey- usually far before the situation has arisen.Again this can lead to the addiction to business and self help books- it keeps feeding the unknown unknowns conundrum and even worse lets people think they are doing something about their desire for entrepreneurship.There will be problems, there will be boredom, there will be hard times. The road ahead meanders through the hills and mountains; a continuous hike of ups and downs- the plateaus are few and bring with them their own fears and worries.Get going and learn as you go. You'll figure it out. If you're realistic about what you're setting out to do, the problems you'll face will be more manageable and more in line with your current capabilities.​​I'll call it there for now and if you're interested I guess I'll keep writing.​​​​​​​