#i mean today i was literally looking at a job offers website that is MEANT to be friendly for people with disabilities including autism and

[katya-goncharov]

every time a job advert asks for an "excellent communicator", an autistic person should magically be given $100000

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

[shihalyfie]

A meta on Mimi and her character

Today’s spotlight character is Mimi! While the Adventure characters are all written to subvert character stereotypes (no, really), I feel this is particularly enhanced for Mimi, whose surface demeanor and the first impression you get from her suggest an almost opposite character to whom she actually is.

Disclaimer before we continue: While not to the same extent as Daisuke, Mimi’s disposition and personality have some significant differences in the American English dub compared to the original Japanese. As usual, this is not meant to be any particular comment about the dub’s changes, but simply that if you’ve only seen that dub, are reading this post, and are thinking “that doesn’t seem right?” that would probably be why.

Mimi’s family background and attitude prior to Adventure

Like with any of the other Adventure characters, understanding Mimi’s personality and why she acts the way she does is most easily done by starting with her family background.

We first meet Mimi’s family in Adventure episode 35.

There is a lot to unpack with only this scene alone, so let’s get started!

Mimi’s family is quite well-to-do. They’re not filthy rich or anything, but they’re well-to-do enough for Mimi’s father to work freelancer (he works in music). This means that Mimi grew up with a fairly “comfortable” life, probably getting pretty much anything she asked for -- in other words, she’s spoiled. It also explains why she’s actually pretty impeccably polite to everyone -- she adheres very firmly to honorifics when speaking to both elders and younger people, and never, ever speaks roughly or aggressively, because her parents have basically been raising her like a “lady of the house” (ojousama) or princess. (She does use casual-form Japanese, but she never lets up on the honorifics.)

They’re very open-minded. We learn in this episode that Mimi’s bizarre food tastes in liking natto on her eggs with sugar (from Adventure episode 6) most likely come from her mother, Satoe, cooking things like kimchi fried rice with whipped cream and strawberries. In other words, the family is very into the idea of “unconventional and strange” and has no qualms about it.

While Mimi in 02 is portrayed as liking practically any kind of fashion aesthetic imaginable, both her room and the overall decor of the apartment suggest that “in-your-face cute” is the generally favored one.

Mimi’s family is also extremely affectionate. They smother each other in lovey-dovey words, her father actively likes Satoe’s weird cooking ideas, and it’s a household where everyone seems to dote on and mutually love and support each other (Mimi’s parents are almost embarrassingly lovey-dovey) without restraint.

The result is that Mimi ends up “spoiled sweet” -- she’s pampered and used to a comfortable life where everyone dotes on her, but because of the family dynamic being so built on “affection” and “open-mindedness”, she also never develops a streak towards condescension or malice.

What does that mean, you might ask?

Mimi in Adventure

A lot of people remember Mimi by the fact that she was “whining a lot” in the early stages of Adventure, and the fact that she’s a “girly-girl” with some of the associated stereotypes. As a result, one may be surprised to hear that her behavior is actually supposed to be mostly representative of an average child in her situation, and she’s often described in press materials as “someone who can befriend anyone” or “someone who can get along with anyone”. Even her official website profile talks about how pretty much everyone considers her likeable.

This may seem difficult to believe at first, but you might actually notice a pattern when it comes to her “complaining” -- it pretty much always boils down to one of the following, or something along these lines:

I’m scared

I’m tired

I don’t like this/I don’t want that

I want a bath/bed/food/(some other home comfort)

I want to go home

In other words, Mimi is basically reacting like an average child would when thrown into another world out of nowhere! All of her complaints are out of low tolerance and high sensitivity -- all of these scary and uncomfortable things around her are making her feel bad, and she’s not hesitating to make that clear with her words.

However -- and this is very important -- these are all things she’s saying specifically because she’s now in a dangerous, unfamiliar situation in another world. All of these things are things she says defensively, because she’s sensitive to being uncomfortable or hurt, but she is also never aggressive towards others. In completely normal situations -- ones where all she’s doing is socializing at school -- it’s not hard to believe that she would actually be one of the nicest and most considerate people on the planet and that she would be instantly likeable to anyone she meets. Why? Because she lacks condescension or malice. She’s a very nice person who, if not for being under heavy stress, would never step on anyone’s toes. Even during those early episodes of Adventure, whenever there’s “down time” and they’re not in an uncomfortable situation or being chased by something, she goes back to being polite and respectful of others (remember: she’s one of the most adherent to honorifics among the cast), and is perfectly kind and agreeable with them.

As much as she may sometimes get demanding during the early episodes of Adventure, she also doesn’t expect her peers to cater to her nor does she look down on them. One of the biggest examples comes from the Adventure novel:

Mi–chan was pointing at the front of the bus, where a boy wearing a long–sleeved orange shirt was about to get off. Even Mimi knew who he was. They hardly ever talked together, but he was her classmate, Koushiro Izumi. Mi–chan wanted them to look at what Koushiro was carrying on his back – a wireless laptop. “Isn’t he so weird for bringing that all the way to camp?” Mi–chan sneered with mocking laughter, but Mimi didn’t laugh. She simply didn’t find any reason to.

In a situation where people are mocking this weirdo kid for bringing his laptop to camp, Mimi “sees no reason” to look down on him. To her, what’s the point? It’s not fun to be malicious towards others, and she sees no benefit in dunking on him. Hence, because she’s actually very polite and open-minded towards others, and doesn’t see any reason to be mean, she’s not mean, and so you can see why everyone would like her -- after all, she’s not only bright and cheerful, she’s also polite and kind! Who wouldn’t like such a nice person?

Mimi’s first “focus episode” is Adventure episode 6, and we already see a lot of these traits in action. Mimi gets to see the other kids making absolute fools of themselves under Monzaemon’s brainwashing, but the most she has to say is just observing that they seem to not be having fun, and being worried about their well-being. Once she finds out the truth behind what he did to them, she gets extremely angry on her friends’ behalf -- she actually calls them her “friends”, despite them barely knowing each other at this point!

And then when the Numemon step in to fight for her, despite her initially having been turned off by them (mainly because they make her uncomfortable, both by indulging in literal poop around her presence and by invading her personal space by flirting with her), she actually almost breaks down in tears over them!

What this all means is that Mimi’s “high sensitivity” also translates to something else: Mimi has extremely high empathy for others. In terms of being “sensitive”, she’s also sensitive to how other people feel. She worries about others’ welfare constantly, even when they’re poop-throwing slime monsters who had just flirted with her, or near-stranger classmates who just happen to have been thrown onto this adventure with her whom she barely knows. That’s why she’s so nice to other people -- she feels for them, and she constantly empathizes with others’ emotions, so that’s why she’s never rude to others nor does she step on their toes.

It’s also why, even after Koushirou rubs her the wrong way and momentarily causes her to lash out at him for being insensitive about her feelings in Adventure episode 10, she also never seems to hold a grudge against him thereafter (especially since, for as much as he was acting pretty frustrating, she understands he was doing it out of good intentions). In fact, Mimi is pretty much incapable of holding a grudge at all. (More on this later!)

Mimi’s most famous incident of “succumbing to her vices” is Adventure episode 25, when she ends up letting the Geckomon and Otamamon pamper her while stringing along and refusing to do the job they’d needed her for in the first place (singing to wake TonosamaGeckomon). Let’s go over what led to Mimi getting in this situation:

Mimi was basically at her limit. She had been in the Digital World for what had been implied to be months. Going that long without her bath or soft bed or comfort, it’s understandable that she finally let stress overcome her and succumbed to her vices in full. This is basically Mimi at one of her worst possible breaking points, not her most of the time.

Taichi, Jou, and their partners never gave her a very good reason why they should leave (Taichi never explained the problems going on in the real world, nor that he’d even taken a pit stop there) and now, for all she knows, they’re trapped in the Digital World forever, so when she sees an offer to make it all stop hurting, she naturally takes it -- especially when the people telling her to leave aren’t giving her any reason why except that she should.

Even despite all that, Mimi has a complete mental breakdown after her tantrum ends up throwing everyone in jail, dreaming about how everyone must hate her now and how even the Geckomon and Otamamon are tiring of her (the fact this pops up in her dream implies that she’d had a feeling this was coming for a while now). Sora comes to give her a little encouragement, but even she says that Mimi already really knows what she should be doing now. Mimi ends up bringing everyone out to apologize to them and fulfill her duty before the night is even over.

So let’s recap: Mimi is so empathetic and worried about other people’s feelings and what they think of her that, even in arguably one of the worst mental health crashes we’ve ever seen her have on screen, she still breaks down at the prospect of disappointing everyone and making them hate her to the point she immediately recognizes how far she’s fallen and takes it back before the night’s even over. That is how much other people, ranging from Taichi to a crowd of Digimon she’s only vaguely acquainted with, matter to her.

The full “payoff” for this episode in terms of the light of the Crest of Purity glowing and achieving Lilimon evolution does not happen until Adventure episode 35.

It is interesting for a lot of reasons, mainly because it involves all of the events happening in response to things that don’t sound very virtuous on their face (early in the episode, Mimi insensitively comments on Palmon being “bad taste”, and later in the episode she starts considering the Digimon tormenting others unforgivable).

The “Crest of Purity” (sometimes “Innocence”) is something that’s often been difficult to translate, mainly because the easiest words that come to mind often have other unwanted implications, but the real point of it is that, again, Mimi is lacking in malice. The way she talks to Palmon at the beginning of the episode indicates she really didn’t think Palmon would take it seriously (she even urges her to “not think too much into it”), only to find out at the end of the episode that she sort of kind of did. (Trust me, she’s very sorry about it.) The other thing is that, when she starts protesting at the Digimon at the end of the episode, she’s doing this specifically because she’s weeping on behalf of all of the tormented civilians (including her family) that are being caught in the crossfire. She’s so constantly empathetic towards other people that seeing other people hurt, regardless of how well she knows them, just eats her inside. So for her, those who cause that kind of suffering are unforgivable, because they’re inflicting that pain on others.

This is also what leads to her breakdown near the three-quarters mark of the series. Like with how she eventually came to empathize with the Numemon who fought on her behalf, Mimi holds no grudge against Scumon and Chuumon despite them having flirted with her earlier, and Chuumon taking a hit for her hurts her the deepest among all of the other kids. Because Mimi is so empathetic towards others, every death starts tearing away further until she finally can’t take it anymore. 

Mimi is fundamentally the kind of person who hates fighting, and even from day one she’d never liked it -- her way of “encouraging” fighting was more like hoping that Palmon (or her evolved forms) could survive. If she wanted to win, it was in the sense of wanting everyone to Not Die; she was never belligerent. But now that the actual body count of people she considers friends is rising, she associates fighting so deeply with that body count that the pain gets to her, and the last straw breaks in Adventure episode 45 in the form of two people she considers friends, Taichi and Yamato, getting in a fight. Everyone around her is hurt. Everyone around her is pain. The naturally empathetic Mimi feels all of this, and she thus decides to pull back from the fighting.

Mimi being such a firm pacifist does have its benefits -- not only does it mean that she holds no grudge against Ogremon in Adventure episode 46 and bid for treating his wounds even though Jou (understandably!) is initially more skeptical because of how he’d initially tried to kill them, she also creates a major dent in Ogremon’s “fated rival” philosophy towards Leomon by forcing him to question: so what if you do defeat your rival? Then what? What’s the point of fighting? Does it actually make you feel better to try and prove your strength this way? (Even Leomon, for all he’s portrayed as noble, is still shown to have a petty investment in his conflict with Ogremon in the following episode.) Ogremon tries not to think too hard about it, but Mimi questioning “what he would do if Leomon were gone” becomes a question he really does have to confront when Leomon dies in the next episode...

...which is also an important learning lesson for Mimi herself as well: fighting may cause collateral damage, but not fighting doesn’t help things either, because when less-than-virtuous forces are at work, casualties will happen either way. In fact, it’s even worse to be a sitting duck, because now you’re just doing nothing when people die right in front of you. Which is a lesson that Jou had wanted to tell her earlier, but didn’t know how to describe to her in words because of his own complicated feelings:

What he wanted to tell her was this: that he didn’t see any likelihood of co-existing with the Dark Masters, and that they had no other choice but to fight them. Even a neutral country like Switzerland had a military. They would be invaded by enemy countries without one. It would be nice and ideal if they used the nonviolent resistance approach as Ghandi did. But that didn’t mean it was okay to just be killed without lifting a finger… But not even he could find a good answer.

However, Mimi is still a pacifist. Even if she finally understands that fighting is necessary, that should not mean that she should now force herself to become someone gung-ho and enthusiastic about it. This is why, in Adventure episode 50, Jou contemplates different ways they can productively contribute to the fight -- because Mimi should not be obligated to personally fight herself when it’s not in her fundamental nature, and Jou personally does not feel that he’s very good at it. But Jou, having put some thought into “one’s own path”, realizes that literal physical violence fighting isn’t the only way to be “part of the fight” -- and so while Jou starts to realize that his unique role is becoming someone who can be a capable healer and doctor for those who are wounded, Mimi has her own talents that she can use to bring Digimon and other allies together. Because Mimi is a kind and charismatic person whom everyone finds likeable and would be willing to come along with, and since she holds no grudges against anyone, nobody would hold any grudges against her, so she’s perfect for the role of “bringing people together for the sake of what they want to protect”.

And she does. Adventure being a series that respects the contributions of those who don’t necessarily participate by direct fighting, Mimi’s rallying together of the Digimon becomes key to saving everyone in Adventure episode 52, and the fact that everyone’s together in the end makes for a great group photo.

Speaking of the final episode, in case the point hadn’t been driven home enough that Mimi’s the most empathetic and emotionally sensitive of the entire cast, the series famously ends on her very emotionally compromised farewell with Palmon. Of course, Palmon’s the one who kind of initiated it (she’s the one who initially refuses to see Mimi because she’s too emotionally compromised), but, after all, the series ends on Mimi being so frazzled about it that she loses her hat.

Mimi in 02 and beyond

As with the other Adventure kids, Mimi’s character arc continues in 02, and we learn a lot about her before she even makes her first personal appearance!

Firstly, we learn that Mimi’s moved to America. The in-universe reason is that it’s for her father’s work...or, at least, ostensibly so, because 02 episode 40 implies that the actual reason was that her parents wanted them to be away from Digimon incidents. (Which, of course, didn’t last very long.) The meta reason for Mimi moving, however, very likely has to do with the fact that 02 involves a subplot of Chosen Children appearing all over the world, and Mimi’s character involves an innate talent for bringing people together.

We learn in Two-and-a-Half Year Break that Mimi moved in 2001, only one year before 02′s events, and eventually got caught in the 9/11 incident -- where she met a number of other American Chosen Children in New York and, now much stronger of heart since the events of Adventure, was able to help them in the recovery efforts, despite there being a language barrier. With this, and the fact she’s shown at a huge party in 02 episode 14: they’re not kidding when they say Mimi can become friends with pretty much anyone. Even going to an entirely different country and dealing with a language and cultural barrier, Mimi is such a naturally kind and compassionate person that she immediately doesn’t have any problem fitting in. (Because, really, someone that level of kind and friendly is hard to dislike.) And in a world where international solidarity between Chosen Children is getting more and more important, that is a very valuable role to have.

The other thing we find out early about Mimi in 02 episode 2 is that Sora catches on that Miyako is a lot like Mimi, based on the fact that Miyako also is empathetic and has an aversion to fighting. And Sora’s completely right, because when Mimi does come into the picture, the similarities -- and differences -- between her and Miyako say a lot about both characters.

When Mimi arrives in Japan in 02 episode 6 (for her cousin’s wedding), she and Miyako immediately get along with each other, and Miyako instantly role-models her, to the point of claiming her as an honorary older sister (despite already having older sisters herself!). It’s not surprising; Mimi and Miyako are both very bright and cheerful people, and Miyako even shares the background of being slightly pampered by her family (although presumably more due to her being the youngest of several siblings). Mimi, for her part, continues her trend of being likeable and fond of pretty much everything (including even her beloved tuna-mayo onigiri that she hadn’t had for so long), and is perfectly happy to be tight with Miyako.

The Digitamamon incident in 02 episode 14, however, adds an extra layer into why Miyako idolizes Mimi so much besides Mimi just being cool in general: Mimi is kind, forgiving, mature, and incapable of holding a grudge -- to the point her pacifistic tendencies kick in even when Digitamamon gets hit by a Evil Spiral and she refuses to fight him, despite him literally starting to beat her up. Again, Mimi came to understand the inevitability of having to fight back in Adventure, but Digitamamon is, to her, a friend who was trying his hardest to turn over a new leaf -- so, naturally, she tries to see if she can appeal to his heart instead. Miyako, on the other hand, is on the opposite extreme -- she’s so judgmental about her poor first impression with Digitamamon that, despite fully knowing well that Evil Spirals cause their victims to lose their ability to have reason, keeps trying to use it as evidence that Digitamamon was a traitor from the get-go.

Considering that the “secondary Digimentals” arc is largely about Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori coming to terms with their deficiencies in their respective traits and aspiring to do better, Miyako unfavorably compares herself to Mimi because Mimi is everything she wants to be and currently isn’t. Unlike Mimi, Miyako is aggressive, in-your-face, occasionally judgmental, belligerent, sometimes insensitive (not by choice), and often shallow, which she fully admits to in this episode. Of course, the reason Miyako gets the Digimental of Purity (Mimi’s trait) is because she hates this about herself -- even in 02 episode 31, she gives herself no shortage of grief for her foot-in-mouth syndrome and the fact she’s not as “kind” of a person she wants to be, and she herself is also fundamentally devoid of malice, just quick to jump to conclusions and a bit sidetracked by first impressions. (After all, Mimi was guilty of being accidentally insensitive when she called Palmon lacking in taste back in Adventure; the point is that when both of them do it, they really don’t mean badly, and end up sorry for it later.)

But that’s a story for another post about Miyako; more importantly, the reason Miyako is harsh on herself about this in this episode is that, in many ways, she’s everything Mimi is not, because Mimi is empathetic and mature and polite and never steps on anyone’s toes.

02 episode 25 gives us more to work with; first of all, she’s depicted in yet another completely different hair and fashion style (which she brings up another of during the winter season), and her drastic shifts in style indicate more of her “open-mindedness”; she’s open to trying out tons of new things and is willing to like just about anything. More importantly, however, she turns out to be completely open-minded about recruiting Ken to help out, even though she’s well aware of what he’d done as the Kaiser (and, again, Miyako sees her ability to be forgiving as something to look up to). Because, again, Mimi doesn’t hold a grudge; she doesn’t send anything accusatory or forceful to Ken, but simply believes that he should be given the chance to know what’s going on and help out if he so chooses, which becomes key to Miyako herself also choosing to accept Ken at the end of the episode.

Given that Mimi is portrayed as so open-minded towards trying all sorts of things, it’s probably no surprise that her “career” in Kizuna is so different from what we eventually know she’ll be doing in the epilogue -- instead of her cooking show, we see her running an online shopping business. After all, with her being so open-minded about wanting to do potentially anything, it’s very like her to "dabble” in a few different experimental things before (or perhaps “without”!) settling for something. What we know about this business is also quite on brand for her; her business specializes in “cute” (her preferred aesthetic, which she also shamelessly dresses in), and she’s established as setting up business all over the world to the point she has to constantly travel. Presumably, her natural charisma made it easy for her to set up connections.

Interestingly, her website profile also omits any discussion of any kind of university or other post-secondary education, implying that, unlike the others, she chose to dive directly into her career after high school. Again, it’s quite like her to find something she wanted to do and pursue it the moment it was in front of her -- no matter what it is, as long as it’s interesting.

Mimi’s largest amount of focus in regards to the movie is in To Sora, where she’s seen checking in on Sora after noticing she hasn’t been in the group chat in a while -- again, as someone constantly empathetic to how her friends are doing, it’s natural that she’s the one who catches on and decides she needs to check in. As someone who loves uplifting and supporting her friends first and foremost, she happens to be fully aware of what everyone’s currently up to (compare how Taichi had to be actively updated on Sora and Takeru’s status from Yamato in the movie proper), and also provides nothing but positive supportiveness to Sora’s troubles during their conversation -- as usual, always respectful and polite, and never condescending.

And, of course, she naturally empathizes with Sora having hesitation about fighting -- both because she’s been busy herself, but also because she, of course, understands exactly how it feels for fighting to be emotionally taxing -- and declares that she’ll support Sora with whatever she does, just like how she found her own path back in Adventure by choosing to contribute by bringing people together instead of fighting. She makes do on this promise as well, considering that she keeps up with supporting Sora during her exhibition.

By the time of the 02 epilogue, Mimi has decided to change tracks entirely and go for cooking, which, while being very different, is also very on-brand. This time, the part about “cooking” is something that comes from her family, since, after all, experimental cooking (...of some kind) was something Satoe got the whole family to embrace. The exact nature of her job is literally “culinary researcher”, which is a Japanese catch-all to refer to the sort of “food critic” who experiments with food and writes extensively (or, in this case, runs a TV show) about different ways you can enjoy and put together food, which also goes in mind with her streak of “open-mindedness”. The common point is, really, that everything Mimi does comes out of positivity, supportiveness, and love.

[flowerpowell]

The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)

PART SEVEN

A/N: This story is pretty much done! There’s only an epilogue left (unless you want me to end the story here, but I kinda doubt it 😅). Thank you all for the engagement in this series so far; it motivated me to actually finish it. I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter as well!

Rating: G (some angst + mention of a panic attack at the beginning)

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @twinkleallnight​ @kingliam-rys​ @kingliam2019​ @lodberg​ @sfb123​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @gkittylove99​ @texaskitten30​ @shanzay44​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ ❣

“Liam… Liam…”

“Whoaaa—What’s happening?” Liam opened his eyes and saw Maxwell and Drake standing over him, concern written on their faces. His body was aching and he realized he didn’t remember the last few hours. “Where am I?”

“Your bedroom,” Maxwell replied calmly.

Liam looked around. Indeed, he was in his bedroom. Was it all a dream? Was his conversation with Victoria only a dream? She didn’t know the truth yet?

Liam sat up and instantly he felt dizzy. If she didn’t know the truth yet, he had to tell her straight away. He wasn’t going to wait again.

“Yeah… Bastien carried you here,” Drake added.

Liam looked at him confused. “Bastien?”

They nodded.

Suddenly all his motivation to tell her the truth was gone. If Bastien carried him there that meant… That meant…

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“How…”

“Bastien said you passed out on the street and he carried you here. I’m sorry, Li.” Drake looked genuinely sad.

“Bastien told you what happened?” Liam asked and his friends shook their heads.

“He didn’t have to. It’s all over the news.” Maxwell showed him an article titled American Attention Wh*re Tries to Seduce the King on his phone. Liam cursed under his nose as he read it.

“So that’s how she found out,” he thought and it made him feel even worse. She deserved so much better than that.

“I’ll spare you the I-told-you-so’s but you really did her dirty. Not only did she find out you were not who you claimed to be but also the whole country think she was trying to climb up the social ladder and gain more popularity,” Drake pointed out, sending Liam that knowing look which said “fix it.”

“I’m going to speak to the press. Explain everything.”

“Yeah… You probably should do it soon,” Maxwell said, his eyes glued to his phone. Liam gulped, mentally preparing himself for more bad news.

“And why is that?”

“The director of the movie she and Hana worked on is considering deleting all her scenes and hiring someone else instead. Apparently, Tori didn’t live up to the terms of the contract. Hana just messaged me.”

“But…” Liam felt his heart began to race. He really messed up. Worse. He ruined Victoria’s life. He ruined the life of a woman he loved. He was monster.

“I’m going to deal with it. Can you two please leave me alone and ask Bastien to join me in an hour?”

“Li… Are you okay?”

“Can you?” Liam repeated and both men nodded, exiting the room and leaving him alone, as he wished.

~~~~

“Tori… You don’t have to leave, you know?”

“I have to,” Victoria replied trying to close her suitcase. “I’ve already paid for my plane ticket and since I might lose the money I should make on this movie, I can’t let it go wasted.”

“He’s not going to fire you. I told him that if he does, I’m quitting, too.”

“You really shouldn’t have,” Victoria told her but Hana only shrugged.

“What is the point of making a movie about women’s empowerment if the director is clearly doing something opposite.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t want to be an actress anyway. Maybe it’s a sign I should do something else.”

Victoria finally closed her suitcase and took a deep breath. Saying goodbye to her acting career came to her surprisingly easily, unlike saying goodbye to Liam. She hadn’t talked to him at all since she called him out the day before but the mere thought of him made her feel like crying again.

He didn’t try to contact her again which only proved her point – he used her for fun and now that the fun was over, he moved on to another prey. And that was probably what hurt her the most. Yes, the lies, dishonesty was awful, but what caused her the most pain was the fact that she was nothing to him but a piece of his game. She meant nothing to him when he meant everything to her.

“I mean, it is so obvious. Why would a literal King even look twice at someone like me? I was only an easy prey and nothing more.”

“Oh my goodness! You should see it!” Hana exclaimed, holding out her phone for Victoria to take.

“Why? What happened?” She asked as she took the phone. She hesitated when she saw Liam’s face on the screen and Hana noticed it.

“You really should see it.”

Sighing, Victoria started reading the article. It turned out that Liam had a press conference the first thing in the morning and addressed the rumors about her.

King Liam opened up about his private life in the latest press conference. The young and still-single King talked about Victoria Brooks, the American actress he was seen with lately, as well how the rumors about their relationship have hurt him.

“I have never been more upset in my life then when I read the [DailyCordonian] article,” he said in his speech. “I feel very disappointed by the journalists who spent years in college to prepare for the job, only to write about lies and their own awful assumptions. It hurt an innocent woman who did nothing wrong. I also feel disappointed by the people, my fellow countrymen, who without checking the information started to sling mud at lady Victoria Brooks. But most importantly, I feel ashamed and disappointed with myself. Yes, dear Cordonia. It wasn’t Victoria who used me for fame or status. It was me who used her. It was me who hurt her. It was me who lied to her about my status. She didn’t even know I was a King before she read that awful article. I didn’t know how to tell her because [long pause] because I fell in love with her and was scared she would never like me back if she knew I was a monarch. You see? She’s the opposite of what you claimed her to be. I have never met a more amazing woman and I feel deeply sorry for making her life so miserable. I am sorry in the behalf of my country of how it treated her and I am sorry in my own behalf for having hurt her. I might be a King but I’m still only human who makes mistakes. I do not expect her to forgive me but I’d like to offer my sincere apologies for what she has experienced in my country.”

King Liam, in his heartfelt speech, assured about the genuineness of his feelings towards the actress and apologized to everyone he hurt in the process. Despite his efforts, there’s still no news from the actress herself. According to King Liam, she doesn’t like to be in the center of attention and this is probably the only reason she hasn’t commented anything yet.

What a lovely couple it could be! A humble actress from far away falling in love with a King of a small country… A true fairytale that never came to.

Stay tuned for more about this royal holiday romance!

“What a hypocrisy,” Victoria commented when she finished reading.

“What? Liam? I don’t think he’s lying, it seemed genuine.”

“No, the website,” she snorted. “A humble actress, lovely couple as if they didn’t call me an attention whore who wanted to use Liam for fame.” She rolled her eyes. Not that she expected any apology from a gossip rag like that.

“What about Liam? What… do you think?” Hana asked softly.

“I… I don’t know what I think,” Victoria replied honestly. “I’m confused.”

It could still be one of his games but would Liam really go that far and admitted it in front of the whole country? She wasn’t sure what to make of it.

~~~~

Liam called her late in the afternoon, when she was already in the cab, on her way to the airport. She debated whether she should answer or not for so long, that he almost hung up.

“Hello?”

“Victoria! Hi! I… I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up.” Liam greeted her and she heard hesitation in his voice.

“Yeah… me neither.”

“I am calling because I want to talk to you. Please, Victoria, let me explain. Just a few minutes. Can we meet up somewhere?”

Victoria bit her lip. “I’m on my way to the airport.”

“What? No!” She could almost hear his heart breaking. “Please, let me talk to you first. Let me explain myself. Please, Victoria, don’t leave just yet.”

“I’m sorry, Liam. I—I saw the speech. And it’s fine, there’s no need to apologize. I’ve moved on. And I’m going home. Goodbye, Liam.” She hung up before he could say anything. She didn’t need to hear him. Probably because whatever he was about to say, would make her reconsider. Or worse, it would make her fall for him again.

~~~~

Liam was squeezing his phone in his hand, mentally cursing. He couldn’t let her go that easily. If she wanted to go, he’d of course let her, but not before he had the chance to apologize properly.

“Li? Did you talk to her?” Drake asked and Liam looked at him.

“She hung up. Doesn’t want to meet up.”

Drake nodded. “Well… You can’t do anything anyway.”

“Maybe I can,” Liam said with a devilish smile. “I’m still the King, as far I remember.”

~~~~

“What do you mean you can’t let me in?” Victoria asked. “I have a plane to catch.”

“I’m so sorry, the airport was closed ten minutes ago. King’s order,” the guard explained and Victoria’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, he didn’t,” she murmured and smiled apologetically at the guard, walking away. Apparently, being a King had more perks that she thought. Narrowing her eyes, she took out her phone and called Liam.

“Hello?”

“Open the airport, I need to go home!”

“I will after we talk. Can we meet up now?” He asked.

“No!” she yelled and people around looked at her curiously. “If you don’t want to open the airport, fine. I’ll take a train to Italy and go home from there.”

She hung up before he said anything. If Liam thought he was smart, he didn’t know Victoria yet.

~~~~

“I’m sorry, why exactly I can’t buy a train ticket?”

“Because all trains are cancelled today. King’s orders.” The lady who was selling tickets shrugged.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed and heard her phone ringing.

Liam.

“Do you have time now?” He asked.

“I don’t care you’re the King, I am leaving your country, whether you like it or not!” She hung up, not hearing his laughter.

~~~~

Liam sat in his bedroom with his phone in the hand. What he was doing wasn’t fair but he needed a chance to talk to her. But she was stubborn.

Gosh, she was so stubborn.

He smiled to himself when he noticed she was calling again.

“Yes?”

“Seriously, Liam? You blocked all cabs?”

“If that will make you stay a little longer and listen to me, then yes.”

“No way. Take your cabs, planes, trains, whatever. I am leaving.”

He chuckled when she hung up. He had a feeling where she’d go next and wasn’t disappointed when she called him again, twenty minutes later.

“Hello?”

“Just how exactly did you know I was going to rent a boat?”

“I thought you might.” He smiled. “You should be thankful though, boats are expensive to rent here and besides, the weather’s not good for sailing. It’s winter after all.”

“I don’t care it’s winter! I’m going home!” There was silence for a moment before he heard her cuss. “I can’t even rent a bike?!”

“It’s winter!”

“You can’t keep me here by force! I’m going on foot then!” she yelled at him and hung up.

As he said, she was so stubborn.

~~~~

“Stupid jerk. Who does he think he is?” Victoria talked to herself as she walked, dragging her suitcase with her. “He lied to me, made a fool out of me and is not even letting me go anywhere. Heck no. All my sympathy to him is gone. Gone!”

“Is that what actresses do? Talk to themselves?” She turned to see Liam in the limo, driving next to her.

“I’m not talking to you. I’m going home.”

“Come here. I’ll give you a lift and we’ll talk in the meantime.”

“La-la-la! I can’t hear anything.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Liam laughed. “You’ll freeze.”

“Good! I’m mad at you!”

“No, you’re not. I see you’re laughing,” Liam teased her and she stopped and hit him with her bag. From the corner of her eye, she saw his bodyguard observing her and she realized that Liam was a King after all and hitting him was probably illegal.

“Victoria, I know I hurt you but I just want to explain myself. Please. After I’m done… and if you don’t change your mind, I promise I’ll let you go. The royal jet will take you home to America whenever you’d like.”

“Whenever I’d like?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “Can I have it on paper?”

“I promise. King’s promise. My guards are the witnesses.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

~~~~

They were driving in silence and Victoria wondered if it was a good idea.

“So… I thought you wanted to talk to me. We’ll be at the airport soon.”

“I wanted… I needed to gather my thoughts… I just—I never… I don’t know how to start. I am so terribly sorry for everything. For lying to you, for hiding the truth. For what the press wrote about you.” He flinched as if it hurt him. “I’ve never wanted to deceive you. I didn’t have bad intentions. When we met, I never thought I’d see you again and I certainly didn’t want to introduce myself as a King. Then we met again and… Each time I saw you, I was more and more nervous about what you’d think of me when you find out who I really am. And when we were together… I forgot. I forgot I was a King, I forgot about my duties. I could be just Liam, I was just Liam. It was me, Liam. It’s still me. Liam. Yes, my job is unusual but it doesn’t change my personality. I’m still the same Liam you met. And as much as I feel guilty for leaving you in the dark, I’m glad you got to know the real me.”

“Liam, I… I understand your motives. I do. And I forgive you, okay? If I was very famous, I probably wouldn’t announce it to everyone I meet. Yes, it made me feel like an idiot when I found out but I think I get it. And I appreciate what you said during the conference.”

The car pulled up at the airport and Victoria noticed the royal jet waiting there. Liam really meant what he said.

“You forgive me?” Liam asked.

“I do.”

“Will… Would… Does… Does it mean you could give me another chance, perhaps? My feelings hasn’t changed.”

“Liam…”

“Please say yes, Victoria.” He closed his eyes and leaned to her, their foreheads touching. “I love you.”

Oh how she wanted to hear those words. Her whole life, she craved to hear those words directed at her.

“Liam… I… the jet is waiting.”

“Stay, Victoria. Please. Give me another chance. One more chance. Please.”

Victoria bit her lip as she pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes. The King was begging her to stay, with tears in his eyes. She swallowed hard.

“I—I can’t Liam. I forgave you, as I said but… that’s that. I think… I think it’s better if I go. Our... story... or whatever it is, should end now. It’d never work out,” she said and opened the door, exiting the car. As if nervous that he’d change his mind about letting her go home, she ran to the jet. She turned around, the last glimpse of him, with his head down, looking pleadingly at her. She smiled sadly at him and waved, and then disappeared inside, the door closing after her.

And as Liam watched the jet take off, he realized it was over. He lost Victoria forever.

--

[sunlightdances]

Weights & Dates (Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes AU)

Title: Weights and Dates Author: Katie @sunlightdances Summary: Personal trainer Bucky Barnes. Wearing those smedium t-shirts. And sweating. Do I really have to say more?  Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky or Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission! I’d love for you to reblog this and tell me what you think if you read. It means the world to me. Author’s Note: I have a lot of other WIPs to work on but I had no choice but to write this when it was brought up in the Marvel creators Discord. Thank u for being a bad influence @jbbuckybarnes​. ALSO: this was literally just meant to be drooling over what Bucky looks like at the gym (thank u Don Saladino for those gym vids as inspo) but ended up also having FEELINGS. What can u do, you know?

You’re nervous as you walk up the concrete steps to the gym, wringing your hands together as you try to convince yourself that this is a good idea.

It’s January. The time of the year everyone makes a resolution to go to the gym more, so here you are. A fresh gym membership and a session with a personal trainer on the schedule. You want to do this, you really do - you know you’ll feel good after a workout - but you can’t help but be nervous.

You haven’t worked out in ages, and you’re worried you’ll make a fool of yourself. It doesn’t help that you looked up your trainer on the gym’s website after the session was scheduled, and he’s-- he’s so hot. There’s really no other words for it.

So, yes, you’re nervous.

Still, you tell yourself to stop being an idiot and when you get inside, you’re a little calmed by the sight of a bunch of other nervous-looking people who are clearly there for the first time, too.

When you check in at the desk to ask where you’re meant to go for your session, the girl sends you down the hall and into an empty room on the left. “Bucky will be there in a few minutes, he’s finishing up with a group down the hall.” She sends you a quick smile, and then you’re alone.

Feeling fidgety, you take off your coat and put your bag in a corner, and you’re saved from being alone for too much longer when the door opens after a few minutes and a very tall, very sweaty man comes into the room.

You recognize him immediately from the picture on the gym’s website, and oh shit, he’s even hotter in person, especially when he meets your eyes and smiles at you, a crooked slow smile that has you nearly running for the hills.

“Hi,” he says brightly, “sorry to keep you waiting. I’m also sorry I’m disgusting right now,” he says, chuckling, and you almost scoff because hello? Has he seen himself? There’s no way he could ever be considered disgusting.

You introduce yourself, still feeling a little awkward.

“Nice to meet you,” he says warmly. “Let’s sit for a second.” The two of you sit cross-legged on the floor, and you giggle a little as he struggles to lower his enormous frame to sit next to you. He smiles, amused. “So. What brings you here?”

You frown a little. Are you in the wrong place? Didn’t you sign up for a session? Why--

“I meant, why did you sign up for personal training?” He asks kindly, seeing you flounder. “Any particular reason?”

You fidget some more. “Just-- I want to get back into shape. Not--” you shut your eyes briefly, frustrated that you can’t vocalize your thoughts. “I’m not trying to lose weight. I’m happy with my body. I just want to feel better. Stronger, more energy, less aches and pains.”

You’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t look like he’s judging you at all. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was giving you a once over, but you shake that thought away. He’s a trainer. It’s his job to assess the situation. That’s all it is.

Standing, he offers his hand. When you take it, he tugs you to your feet, and gives you that grin you’re beginning to realize might actually give you a heart attack one of these days.

“Okay then. Let’s get started.”

.

.

.

You have been training with Bucky Barnes for one month, and you regret every nice thing you ever thought about him.

Sure, you still think he’s the most good looking person you’ve ever seen in real life, but that’s it. He’s trying to kill you, you’re convinced of it.

You’re bent over at the waist, sweat dripping from your forehead, struggling to get in even one deep breath.

“Come on,” he says gently. “You got this. Two more exercises and we’re done for today.”

“I’ll be done forever if I keep going,” you grumble, and he laughs.

“You’ll be alright. Come on. Deep breath, and let’s push through it.”

You finish your workout with some pushups and situps, like always (gets the heart rate going one more time, he told you on the first day), and then you basically collapse on the mat underneath you, arms refusing to hold you up any longer.

He sits next to you, close enough you can feel the heat radiating off him. “Gonna make it?” He asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” you say weakly, “Just leave me here to die.”

“So dramatic.” He stands, offering his hand. “Come on, up you go. You’ll cramp if you sit there too long.”

After ten minutes or so and an entire water bottle chugged, you leave with a wave, and Bucky watches you go, trying and failing not to notice the way your shirt sticks to your back or the single bead of sweat that drips from your collarbone that he can see even from all the way over here at the front desk.

“Dude.”

Bucky turns to see Sam and Steve, both amused, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“When are you going to ask her out?”

“Literally never.” He turns to leave, but Sam and Steve just trail after him, peppering him with questions.

“Why not?!”

“She’s a client. She doesn’t need me putting the moves on her.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “She’s been looking at you the same way you’re looking at her, man.”

Bucky stops in his tracks, but tries to shake it off. That’s not right. There’s been zero signs. Even the day you were early and he caught you watching him as he finished his own workout on the squat rack-- there wasn’t anything but innocent curiosity in your eyes.

He’s pretty sure.

“Dude, you are so dumb.” Sam says, helping him put the weights you’d been using with him back in their racks against the wall.

“I’m not going to ask her out! It doesn’t matter how--” He stops himself short of saying that it doesn’t matter how beautiful or funny or smart or gorgeous he thinks you are, he just can’t. “She came here because she wanted help, and she trusts me enough to let me do that. So I’m not going to do or say anything stupid just because you two idiots think it’s a good idea.”

.

.

.

Another month passes. You’re almost at the three month mark, and it’s time to renew your membership.

You want to keep training, you’re just not so sure you should keep doing it with Bucky.

You’re-- you’re getting attached. And look, this membership is not cheap. Realistically, you can’t do it forever, and when it comes time to stop coming to the gym, you feel like it’s going to suck.

You don’t know why it feels so much like a breakup, but you’re really doing your best to avoid the subject with Bucky.

“You’re quiet,” he says, before you start your session. He’s putting out some of the equipment, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles shift in his back, the way his shirt is pulled so tightly-- no. You have to stop, because this is embarrassing. You’re a grown ass woman. Get a grip.

“Just tired I guess,” you say, starting to stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, but not in a predatory way, you can tell he wants to say something, ask something. You hope he doesn’t.

The workout goes fine. Great, even. You can actually tell that you’ve made progress. And you’re proud of yourself for sticking with it. You can tell Bucky is too, the little smile on his face as he sits next to you as you stretch a good indicator.

“That was a good one today,” he comments, “Feeling okay?”

“Shoulder’s are a little sore from the weighted squats, but other than that I feel good.”

He hums sympathetically. “Drink a lot of water and take some pain reliever before you go to bed. It’ll help with the muscle soreness.”

As he turns to start putting some stuff away, you watch him. As his sleeves ride up, you notice a smattering of scars on his left shoulder and you find yourself realizing you know nothing about him.

It’s just a crush. You have no idea who he is other than tall, muscled, and extremely handsome. Also charming, and kind, and generous, and-- no. It’s just a crush. There should be nothing hard about ending your training with him.

“I can’t renew my membership.” You blurt, and he spins around, startled.

“Sorry?”

You shake your head, “I-- it’s been three months and the rate is going up. If I renew I’ll barely be able to pay my rent.”

He frowns. “Is it-- did I do something?” He asks, and it’s so plaintive, so concerned, you want to curl up in a ball and die.

“No! It’s not you--”

“I just--” he runs a hand through his hair, “You’ve been making great progress. And I thought we were getting along okay…”

“We are!” You’re quick to reassure him. “I just…”

He stops you before you can continue, “Wait, it’s okay. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. I get it.” He sends you a smile, but even you can tell he’s faking it.

You’re on your feet quickly, trying to end this awkward conversation before it gets any worse. “Well… I-- thanks, Bucky. Really, I lucked out with you.” You tell him, giving him a grin before shoving your hoodie in your bag and leaving before he can say anything else.

You make your last payment at the front desk, and avoid Steve’s eyes (the owner and Bucky’s best friend, you’ve discovered) when he ends your membership. Somehow you think he knows more than he’s letting on, but you appreciate that he doesn’t ask you about it.

When you leave, you wonder why you feel like you’re giving up on something that never even started.

Bucky’s still in the training room after you leave, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. People end their memberships or don’t renew all the time.

Why does this feel so different?

Because it’s her, his mind unhelpfully supplies, but it’s more than that.

He can’t get over the way you just blurted it out, like you couldn’t wait one more second to get out of there. He goes over every session, every interaction, trying to figure out where he got it all wrong.

One thing’s for sure - he was right, and he never should have let Steve and Sam try to convince him that you had feelings for him.

.

.

.

2 months later

You’re sitting at a table in a restaurant you don’t even like, trying your best not to release the tears that so desperately want to spill out.

You hate that you’re even here - talked into a blind date by your coworker is probably not the smartest decision you’ve ever made, but whatever.

Embarrassed because the waiter has definitely noticed you’ve been alone for far longer than anyone else at a table for two, you’re wondering how to avoid having to tell him that your date isn’t showing before going home.

Just as you’re looking around to find the waiter, you see him at the bar.

His eyes widen, just slightly, before he softens, hesitating before getting off the barstool and heading over to you. You feel the embarrassment welling back up inside you when he gets close enough to speak.

The way he says your name… it’s question and there’s sympathy there.

“I thought that was you,” He says. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you shrug.

You gesture to the chair across from you, and he sits, setting his drink down in front of him before pinning those eyes back on you.

“I guess my date isn’t coming,” you say lightly, and watch as that muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I’m sorry.”

You snort, “Don’t be sorry. You’re not the one who stood me up.”

He looks down, before quietly mumbling, “I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

You must look surprised, but then again so does he, a little bit, like he can’t believe he said that part out loud.

“Do you--” You start, hesitating “-- are you waiting for someone? Or would you want to…” you gesture to the chair he’s sitting in, asking without asking if he wants to eat with you. You have no idea where the urge came from.

You haven’t seen him in 2 months, and you’re starting to think it wasn’t just a crush. You’ve thought about him a lot since you stopped training, and now that he’s right here in front of you, you realize your attraction hasn’t waned. Not at all.

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” he says, a gentle smile on his full lips. “If you’re sure--”

“Even if he shows up, I don’t care.”

He grins at that, and you really can’t believe your luck that he’s here.

After a few minutes and another visit from the waiter, you ask about the gym.

“It’s the same, mostly,” he says. “Sam and Steve still annoy the hell out of me, and I’m still everyone’s favorite.”

You grin. “That’s not hard to believe.”

“You look great,” he says, a little shy. “Seeing another trainer?” He’s teasing you, you can tell, but there is an undercurrent of uncertainty there you don’t expect from him.

“I’ve gone on a few runs and worked out at home, but no. Haven’t been back to the gym.”

He props his head on his fist as he considers you. “Are you sure…” He rolls his eyes at himself, “Are you sure I didn’t do something to make you leave?”

He sounds so genuinely worried, you realize you have no choice but to tell him the truth. He didn’t do anything. It’s the truth, but the other truth is that you thought he was too cute to keep working out with. It sounds like something from high school.

“You didn’t do anything, Bucky. You were a perfect gentleman. That was part of the problem.”

Now he looks confused. Like a cute, confused puppy.

“It was the truth that the membership was getting a little expensive, but I also had a hard time because you’re super distracting.” You wait a beat for your meaning to hit him, and when it does, he reacts nothing like you expect.

He goes a little pink around the ears, but there’s a spark in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It makes you nervous.

“I-- maybe, maybe had a crush on you and didn’t want to be that girl, so--”

“Wait, you had a crush, or you have a crush?” He interrupts. “Because if it’s past tense, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound so stupid.”

You’re a little in shock. He keeps going.

“I-- I was kinda bowled over the first time I met you.” His accent sounds a little stronger, and you’re relieved that he looks a bit nervous too. “You’re beautiful, and you were nervous, which was cute, but you made me laugh, and--” He stops for a second, probably worried he’s rambling. “I thought I was too obvious about it and that it made you uncomfortable. I thought that’s why you left. And then I was kicking myself for not asking you out in the first place, but I thought it would have been inappropriate because you were still a client.”

“Are you serious?” You blurt.

He laughs. “I’m serious.”

“So this whole time--”

“We both thought each other were hot and didn’t do anything about it,” he says, winking at you. “Really,” he adds, when he sees how skeptical you look, “You should see yourself in those leggings.”

“Bucky!”

“What! Like you didn’t know.”

“Okay, well what about you? Coming in there for our sessions with your cut off shirts and-- your muscles--”

“So, this is officially a date, right?” He interrupts your rambling, thank god. “Because I kinda haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last two months.”

You leave that night with your hand in his, his number in your phone, and a session at the gym set for next week.

[anwenwrites]

Justice—A Landry Oneshot

A oneshot of Landry’s thoughts as he prepares to send that fateful email to Mrs. Martinez’s family.

I don’t care if she’s supposed to be my friend. She can’t get away with this. Not this time.

Earlier today, Bryce, Jackie, Sienna, Elijah, and I told Casey that Mrs. Martinez died, and she broke down crying. The others all tried to comfort her and feed her the “You gave Mrs. Martinez enough time to live her dream” crap. Yeah, right; I’m sure her family will find that super comforting. The rest of my roommates all flocked around Casey with hugs and words of comfort, but I just stood against the wall with my arms folded. Why should I bother to comfort Casey? She brought this all on herself. She killed a patient, for God’s sake!

And yet somehow even being a patient murderer didn’t stop Casey from becoming the number one intern. Such bullshit. Casey never deserved the number one ranking. That was supposed to be me. It absolutely blows my mind that this girl even made it past her first week. She was late on the very first day! But of course some lady had to collapse in the waiting room, and Casey was at the right place at the right time. And so it happened that she got to impress Dr. Ramsey by assisting him with a hemothorax patient, which by default meant that no one gave a crap that she was late. She got herself lauded as a hero with the power of her luck alone. I, on the other hand, get up at the ass crack of dawn to show up early every day—every single fucking day—and no one gives me any credit for it. 

It’s totally unfair. Casey spends all her free time parading herself around with guys, namely Bryce and Rafael. She must have thought no one noticed that she hooked up with Bryce at our housewarming party—I heard everything because I stayed up studying after all the guests left—only to flaunt Rafael right in Bryce’s face at dinner weeks later! I’d like to think that I’m not one to slut shame, but...well, you know. You’d think getting drunk at every opportunity and sleeping around like she does would cause her performance to nosedive, but somehow she’s number one. She even beat Aurora! I knew the competition would be rigged in favor of the chief’s niece. That much was to be expected. But I never in a million years would have imagined that some frivolous, drama-loving girl would snag that elusive top spot by worming her way into the great Ethan Ramsey’s approval. Is she sleeping with him? There must be some reason why he picked her to come to Miami with him. I know there was more to it than just her being number one. 

I should be number one. I never slack off. I study way harder than Casey or any of my roommates. Probably even more than any of the other interns. And I don’t let girls get in the way of my progress as a doctor. Casey offered to be my wingwoman at the bar after our first day, but I said no. Sure, I was nervous about talking to the girl at the bar, but more than anything, I knew better than to trust another intern who was probably just trying to distract me so she could make a better first impression than me. And when she offered to get Dr. Ramsey to sign my book for me? Yes, I’ve had literal dreams about working with Dr. Ramsey, but I saw that as the perfect opportunity to make Casey look stupid in the hopes that Dr. Ramsey would laugh at her. She made the better first impression, even though she was late and I was early. So I had to level the playing field a little. 

Unfortunately, he actually signed the book. I mean, it was cool, but still. My resentment for Casey started brewing deep inside me that very day. Why was it that she could get my idol to notice her, and I couldn’t? It was so embarrassing that I had to enlist her help to get him to sign my book, even if it was all part of my scheme. 

That was when my plan changed. I knew I had to get on Casey’s good side and convince her to put in a good word for me to Dr. Ramsey. But she never did. She claimed the competition would ruin all our friendships, and was even against joining it at first, yet she couldn’t even be bothered to teach Ramsey my name. Some “friend”, I say. 

  She didn’t teach Ramsey my name, so the only option I had left was to tarnish hers. It was only fair. That’s why one day, when Casey wasn’t looking, I turned off her pager. Ooh, the attendings must have been furious with her! And I’ll never forget the look on Casey’s face when she started treating a patient only to discover that her chart was missing. At first this seemed to have the desired effect. Dr. Mirani’s face went beet red with anger, and he ripped Casey a new one right in front of her patient. I faked words of encouragement to her before standing back and savoring the panic in her eyes, all the while crumpling her chart into a tight ball and hiding it in my scrubs. But that plan didn’t work either; even though some interns laughed, everyone still loved Casey. Everyone who mattered, anyway. If only Dr. Ramsey had seen Casey “lose” her chart. 

My next plan was to pull as many nurses as I could aside and tell them that Casey was trash talking them. All of them but Danny believed me, too. Even Jackie believed me when I said that Aurora must have been the one turning off Casey’s pager and hiding her chart! We joked about how pathetic Aurora was, and I smirked to myself as Jackie walked away grumbling about Princess Nepotism, without even the slightest inkling that I was the real culprit. So far, sabotaging a friend—I mean rival—who’s been getting all the recognition I deserve has worked pretty well for me. I guess sometimes life can be fair after all. You just have to make it fair. 

From the beginning, Casey clearly had an undeserved advantage. But that was forgivable, because that could be dealt with. I could make her look bad in front of the attendings and get all the nurses to hate her. What couldn’t be forgiven, however, was Mrs. Martinez’s death. She’s gone and she can never be brought back. Mrs. Martinez is dead, all because Casey stole an unapproved drug from a pharma rec—a drug with a forty percent chance of death—and administered it to Mrs. Martinez without the hospital’s knowledge or permission. When Casey first told us of her plan, I couldn’t believe my ears. I thought she was crazy. I told her resolutely that I would have no part in this. She and all my other roommates tried to make me feel bad for telling her that what she wanted to do was wrong, but I stood my ground. She still thought that it was some kind of two-sided argument, but I knew that I was doing the right thing, both legally and morally. But Casey did the wrong thing, and now the only way to even slightly remedy the situation would be to tell Mrs. Martinez’s family exactly how she died. They deserve to know the truth.

And I have the power to give that to them.

The day after I learned what Casey was planning, I paid a visit to Mrs. Martinez myself, during which I brought her some of Sienna’s homemade cookies and one of Elijah’s comic books (both happily gave me what I asked for when I told them I wanted to treat Mrs. Martinez) and asked her to tell me all about her family. Normally I would never waste my time on such unimportant details when there are symptoms to be treated and diagnoses to be made, but Mrs. Martinez’s case was totally different: in the likely event that Casey failed and Mrs. Martinez died, the only comfort Mrs. Martinez’s family could possibly have was to know how she died. And so I politely listened as Mrs. Martinez told me all about her son Luis. Where he lived, what his job was, how special he was to her. I don’t remember a word of what she said to me, but I wrote down where he worked. Then when I got home, I stayed up all night during the longest break I had all week to track Luis down. After a harrowing search, I was just about ready to give up, when I finally found a page about the Luis Martinez on his company’s website, with his contact information at the bottom. I wrote down his email address on a little pink sticky note, which I hid carefully away in a big green textbook.

Except there’s only one problem: several minutes of digging around in my desk drawers has revealed that the big green textbook is not in any of them. I must have left it outside. 

I lay an ear against my door and hear the sound of giggles on the other side. Crap. Everyone else is home now too. 

I tiptoe into the main living room to find my roommates with their noses buried in their laptops. Sienna folds chocolate chips into a bowl of cookie dough while she reads. Elijah taps out the theme song of one of his favorite shows on the table. Jackie is so deeply engrossed in her own little world of focused studying that even God himself couldn’t shake her out of it if He tried.

The only one not studying is Casey. She speaks in not-so-hushed whispers into her laptop, only stopping occasionally to let Rafael respond. Her feet are propped up on the table, dangerously close to knocking over her coffee. Next to her mug is my green textbook. Of course.

Sienna hears me and looks up. “Hey, Landry!” she says cheerfully. Elijah stops

drumming on the table long enough to wave at me. 

For the first time since I started formulating my plan, a strange emotion washes over me. Sadness, perhaps? This little scene of five happy roommates won’t last long after I contact Luis Martinez. The others may have been easy to fool, but Casey will surely figure out I was the one sabotaging her, and then she’ll get everyone to feel bad for her. This little roomie unit is about to meet an untimely, drama-filled death. And it’ll all be because of me.

I thought Casey and I were friends. I really did. Even when I got her to sign the book to make her look stupid. As long as she made me look good, she was a friend in my book. 

But she never did. And now she’s going to lose her license and drag the rest of our roommates down with her. 

But not me. 

I won’t be dragged down. 

There is absolutely zero reason why I should feel bad about sabotaging her.

“Uh, Landry?” Casey asks, confused. I realize I’m standing over her, one hand on top of the textbook. 

“You didn’t read this, did you?” I blurt before I can think. They cannot know about that little pink sticky note.

“No…” Casey says slowly. She eyes me suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Shit. My heart begins to race and my hands get clammy as I rack my brain for an excuse. “I just...realized I misdiagnosed a patient!” I lie, grabbing the textbook and scurrying back to my room, ignoring my roommates’ perplexed whispers.

That was too close, I think to myself as I close the door behind me and clutch the textbook to my chest. I set it on my desk and flip to page 329, where the little pink sticky note is waiting for me, all but beckoning me to finally put the information it contains to good use. 

This is it. It’s time.

I snag the sticky note and flip open my fully charged laptop. I have at least ten unread emails, but they can wait. Ignoring the emails from work, I log into the fake anonymous account I’ve created just for this. Without a moment’s hesitation, I type Mr. Martinez’s address into the recipient box. Justice is about to be served.

[swingmexico80]

60+ Tarot Analysis Concepts

On this occasion, they offer 3 minutes completely free, regardless of the selected solution. In other words, you can pick a tarot card analysis for love, a psychic chat, and even a fortune-telling session if thats what you desire. Although they request your credit card info, they just charge you after your session ends. The most important tarot pattern used in these 2 nations was the Tarot card of Marseilles of Milanese beginning. The earliest surviving tarot cards are the 15 approximately Visconti-Sforza tarot decks repainted in the mid-15th century for the leaders of the Duchy of Milan. He explained a 60-card deck with 16 cards having photos of the Roman gods as well as suits portraying 4 type of birds. Other very early decks that additionally showcased classical motifs consist of the Sola-Busca and also Boiardo-Viti decks of the 1490s. 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Right Here at Golden String Tarot card, we recognize that tarot is not about disclosing a fixed future, but instead regarding exploring your subconscious self. He drew a deck from his breast pocket-- obviously, he lugs the significant arcana from the Marseille deck with him anywhere-- and also chose The Lovers card. Everyone typically gets thrilled when The Lovers shows up in a analysis, because most of us presume that it indicates good ideas for our lovemaking; however it does not always show enchanting love in any way. While they are an on-line reading service and also can talk, they mainly do tarot analyses by phone. While that's impressive in itself, what truly attracts attention about this network is the experience of the tarot card masters you locate there. They give insightful readings that utilize the tarot as a device to magnificent info about a individual's circumstances. They have refined tarot card reviewing to the point of it being an art form and also I have actually constantly found out more concerning myself and also exactly how to navigate my current life situation from hanging out on the site. https://tarot-masters.com has actually been providing tarot readings on-line for two decades currently. There are several tarot card decks offered, and each deck and visitor are distinct. The visitor will certainly establish the cards out in different patterns making use of varying varieties of cards. Therefore, if you do choose a professional love psychic analysis, youll have the ability to approach the next occasions in your life with more guts. You can figure out every detail you require to learn about your current and future love life. Also, youll discover to make the right options and also count on the right people. What you truly require in order to utilize the power of a tarot reading to the maximum, is a very user-friendly and well-informed overview. The interpretation supplied by a genuine psychic is the outcome of experiences passed down from generation to generation. According to a lot of psychic resources on extracurricular relations tarot details, you need to ask flexible inquiries. This is due to the fact that tarot card cards can help you make clear the topic, not tell you what to do. Lots of people suggest the Rider-Waite deck for beginners, as the cards' definitions are so often intuitive-- as well as when they're not, lots of analysis guides exist in publications as well as online. Many decks, including the Rider-Waite, come with a little sheet of paper defining each of the card's most typical analyses. Though tarot cards have tackled a mystical definition in the social creativity, they were initially meant as even more of a party game. The cards have been utilized considering that a minimum of the mid-15th century; the earliest tape-recorded decks originated in various parts of Italy. I think I can help you comprehend the surprise meaning of points. Our complimentary tarot readings should enable you to comprehend your future far better and recognize what awaits you. Tarot card analyses are a effective type of divination that utilize an old deck of cards to aid you discover response to your most important concerns regarding love, connections, your job, funds and even more. Psychics and foreteller have actually made use of Tarot card cards for centuries, as well as Relied on Tarot card will give you an accurate reading that's individualized based the cards you pick and also the order you pick them. Every card has a different definition depending upon its placement, so you will get a special as well as thorough point of view on your present scenario. To get ready for your analysis, I advise that you pay attention to this grounding excercise - then scroll down and also select your cards. The tarot card deck contains 78 cards, each of which is associated with its own certain imagery, importance, and also tale. Out of the 78 cards, there are 22 major Arcana cards that represent the karmic as well as spiritual lessons of a individual's life. The 56 Minor Arcana cards signify the adversities as well as trials that we, as humans, face in our daily lives. Amongst the Minor Arcana cards, there are 16 Tarot Court Cards which stand for 16 different characteristic that we express at various times.

[kranketuturani]

Surviving a Pandemic as a New Paramedic

I just started my new job as a paramedic. I moved across the world for it, I was so excited, my dream job, close to Europe to travel, get tonnes of experience. Except I started as a pandemic hit. Covid-19 is a major problem for so many reasons, and the first of the those is not the toilet paper.

I’m not sure where to start with covid-19 and I think that is everyone’s problem. It is so big, so scary, so new to us. Covid-19 is a novel coronavirus, it means that before it popped up, we didn’t know it existed. I believe it is the 9th cornonavirus, so it’s novel because it’s new, not because it’s funny.

But what does working front line healthcare mean during a pandemic? It means that I am at risk of getting it. I know I’ve been exposed, in the last two days I have been to two confirmed cases. I’ve been to many more suspected. It means it takes up a lot of resources, it means people are freaked out and irrational. It means we’re working hard to keep a lot of people safe. It means our guidance is changing all the time.

Covid-19 is a respiratory condition, transfered by droplets. So we’re trying to limit physical contact with patients and avoiding being in anyone’s breathing space. But do you know how much time I spend in people’s breathing space? All of my time. Honestly, I sit next to someone on the way to jobs, I sit with my patients on the way to hospital, my hearing can be a bit funny with accents at the moment so I get closer to hear, I have to get closer to some patients because they’re har of hearing or can’t speak loudly. I can often poke my patients on the nose without straightening my elbow.

Personal protective equipment (PPE) is essential to health care wokers (HCWs) right now. It’s a physical barrier I can put between myself and a patient to keep us both safe. Normally, I wear gloves to touch people and sanitise or wash my hands after every patient. But now, I need to wear a mask if someone has any respiratory symptoms, if they have a cough or a fever, I need to wear googles or a shield to protect my eyes. I have to wear a plastic apron over my uniform for these calls. If it’s a confirmed case, or I have a high degree of suspicison, I get to wear a fabulous suit that makes me look like a ghostbuster with a hood and a FFP3 mask, which filters out more particles in the air.

PPE might be essential to HCWs, and for patients we come in contact with, everyone with a cough or a fever gets given a mask to wear, but if you’re not a HCW, or a sick patient, or you wear one regularly for medical conditons, PLEASE STOP WEARING THEM! Most masks are designed to keep your germs inside, which is why we give them to sick people, you don’t have to remember to cover your mouth to cough when you’ve got a mask on. But if you’r wearing a mask because you think it will keep you safe, I’m really sorry but it’s probably not doing that. Dust masks will not help, I have see so many improperly fitted or worn masks that I actually told someone theirs was wrong, it must cover your nose and mouth and be skin tight. Stop wearing them because they will just carry the virus around and then you’ll touch it. But most importantly, it takes away vital stock from health services, we are already running low, please do not make it harder for us.

Preventing this is easy, wash your hands, don’t get to close to people, follow your government’s advice. I cannot say it enough, just because you are a fit, healthy person doesn’t mean you aren’t carrying it. It’s our job to protect people who are at risk, our eldery, people with chronic health conditions, think about who in your life you’d want to protect, we all have someone we can think of right away.

One thing that is causing undue stress, to the point I am coming home with my brain leaking out my ears and being so bodily tired I can barely drag myself to the shower, is that people are calling emergency services when they should not be. Governments across the world have been clear, please do not call if you have mild symptoms. If you have a persistant/continuous cough or a fever, stay home, self isolate, protect other people. But do not call unless you are seriously unwell. I have been to too many young people who have a fever, low grade.I understand you are not well, but you’re putting me at risk, you’re putting my next patient at risk, and you’re using our stretched thin resources when you do not need us. I know you want to know if you have covid-19, but, at least in the UK, unless you are taken to hospital in a serious respiatory condition, you will not be tested. I am not being tested and I am exposed daily. Do not call because you want a test, no one is going to give it to you. Please stay home, check your government’s health website for help, and if you are very unwell, you cannot breathe properly or you’re having serious nasty side effects from your fever, do call, We absolutely want to help you but we need to priortise here and over 8000 calls in 24 hours is not sustainable.

I am looking at patients who I am worried are dying from this, it is not a joke. But by the same token, I am so busy with low grade jobs that I am not seeing my regular calls, I haven’t seen an elderly faller in days, I’m worried about heart attacks holding on the line, what about broken bones, what about people who geniuely need us and need a hospital but are too scared to call or don’t want to waste our time? Yes, we have a pandemic, and people are getting a new sick, but all our old sicks, heart attacks, strokes, collapses, they are all still going to happen and I cannot bear the thought of them being at risk or not being seen.

I want to say a huge thank you to every health care worker out there, doctors, nurses, other paramedics, ambulance crew, first responders, health care assistants, thank you for responding with us, taking our patients and supporting each other. To our cleaners, truck preppers, admin staff, thank you for making sure we can get on road every morning and every night, for making our trucks safe. To our INCREDIBLE call takers, dispatchers, anyone sitting on the end of a phone taking calls or calling back, we literally could not do this without you and we would be a shambles, thank you for your kindness on the radio, thank you for listening to us and helping us sort PPE and toilet breaks, and cleaning. Thank you to my bus driver who has figured out where I work and doesn’t charge me a bus fare at 5:10 every morning. Thank you to the man in the cafe today where we stopped for desperately needed coffee for my crew mates, he leapt out of his seat and offered to pay for our drinks before we’d even made it to the counter. You made our days and we were so in need of something to go well, I cannot express how much that hot chocolate meant to me. Thank you to everyone who says thank you to us, who apologises for calling even though you so clearly need us, who offers us tea, coffee, juice while we treat your loved one. Thank you to everyone who is being sensible and washing your hands and staying at safe distances, thank you to people who smile. We need so much support right now. A big thank you to my crew mates, for helping me get to week 4 on road and sticking it out, answering my questions and helping me get this sorted, it’s not your fault I landed in a pandemic.

As John Green said in his latest vlogbrothers video, “The only way out is through. The only way through is together.” We can do this team, but we’re in for the long haul, and we have to do it together or we not going to last. Wash your hands, keep your chin up.

[mythologymonsterlover]

Male! Demon lover

A new demon in town, and let me just say the main character did not expect this lovely monster boy to enter his life. I hope you like this big demon softy too!

Warning: Sexual content, cussing

Male Reader X Male Monster

If you ever asked me if I was happy to move into a small apartment I would be paid to say yes - I’m very happy. That’s how my job gets me to say it at least. I’m an international businessman, which means I go to different places to sell products my company is offering. It’s been two years since I've had this job, and I can’t say I hate or love it anymore. I don’t hate it now at least since, I moved to a small apartment in California where the weather is always warm. The only problem I can think of now is that I need to stay longer than a year doing extra work. I don’t bother thinking about it too much, since today I was able to finish unpacking everything. In the apartment I’m staying at I notice I have two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and an old sofa. I want to relax and since it’s raining outside, working from the computer seem like the best approach for today. I do my usual, putting advertisements on different websites and calling business owners to see if I can schedule an appointment with them. Doing this is boring, but it lets me watch TV and play video games anytime that I'm done. I was in the middle of sending out an email to a company when a knock comes from my front door. Curious to who that might be, I open my door by a crack to see a person. It’s an old guy, and he seems to be holding something in his pocket. “Oh, Hello.” I open my door all the way to greet the man, and he flashes me a toothy grin. “Good afternoon, I’m sorry to come unexpectedly, but I thought I should tell you the history of your apartment your staying in.” I raise my eyebrow, startled that someone is coming up to talk to me about the place. I thought I finished all the paperwork, but perhaps I forgot something. The man continues to speak, and I snap back to reality to hear him out. “I don’t mean to startle you, but many that comes to live in your room seemed to be scared out...By something frightening.” He takes in an uneasy breath, and pulls an object out from his pocket. He grabs my hand and puts the thing in my palm, and it looks like an amulet of some sort? I frown at his sudden actions and let out a nervous laugh, thinking his probably just an old geezer confused or something. I take it nonetheless, and nod my head acting like I’m really happy with what he gave me. “Well, thank you so much for this gift, but if you don’t mind me asking, what's it for exactly?” He looks down for a moment, like his thinking of how he should word his next sentence to me. “Well...it’s a talisman. It’s to help from evil presences from harming you.” I knew it. This old guy believes in spirits and ghouls. I wanna laugh at this, but knowing that’s rude, I just give my best shock face to him. He places his hand on my shoulder and with a somber look he nods a couple of times. With that I decide to end this, and with a smile say, “Thank you so much, I appreciate it!” He grunts a “your welcome” and with a wave of his hand he descends down the hallway. Closing the door behind me, I look at the talisman once again somewhat admiring the thing. It's made out of what looks to be amethyst, and is wrapped in a golden wire as well as feathers. I never been a big fan of jewelry, so I place the thing in my pocket and with that I go back to work on the computer.

…

My burning eyes are telling me it’s time to go to bed, and looking at the clock I can see I’ve been on my device far too long. I let out a yawn, stretching my stiff back and letting all my bones pop. It’s my job to be socializing with people to buy my companies crap, not to sit on my ass like this for hours on end. Since I was young even, I hated to sit for hours at a time and just really wanted to be able to run. I had dreams of becoming an elite athlete growing up, but I guess not all dreams are meant to come true. With that last thought floating in my mind, I get up to walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. This being my first night in the apartment, I try and get use to my new sleeping situation. The movers brought my mattress but not my bed frame, so I need to sleep on the floor. It’s not a big deal to me since I’ll have something soft to sleep on, but the floor still looks dirty. Not wanting to make a big deal out of my dirty floor, I decide i'll clean it up tomorrow. Eventually, I’m flat on my back with my eyes closed drifting away in a deep sleep. My unconscious mind puts me into a different reality, and I can tell its my dreams. You can tell sometime when your dreaming, and tonight I knew I was. I was walking up a dirt trail high in the mountains, so far up that I could literally touch the clouds. After what felt like only a couple of seconds, I made it to a clearing with green grass everywhere. There I stood gazing out at a beautiful view of the forest, taking it all in. I was so content that I didn’t even realize that a person was standing right behind me until I heard a sniffle. Turning around to face them, I recognized the individual as the old man. This time though there was something about him that made his face look wiser, more intense. I walked up to him without feeling the slightest of caution, and then suddenly three big doors popped up behind him. I step back a little startled, but admire each one with strong interest. The first one was purple and had a medal skull on it. The nob though was the color of gold, and looked defined. It beckoned me like the sea on a hot summer day. Then there was the middle door. It was grey with red stripe going down it from top to bottom. It reminds me of the snow, but also the emotion like sadness. Lastly, the third door was all black with only a red handle. It was mysterious like the night, and seemed so untouchable from my grasp. As I studied all of them with amazement the old man from before put his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to look at him. “Pick one.” He states, and very slowly he walks away into the trees disappearing from sight. I feel kinda hesitant at first, but get the nerves to pick the door that calls to me to come closer. I walk to the door that holds a special place in my heart, and place my hand on it. I pick the first door with the skull. I close my eyes, and before I feel myself drift away from this world I see two bright eyes stare back at me. Everything fades away however, and my senses come back all around me as I awake.

…

When I open my eyes, the lights through the window blinds me with its rays. Getting up with a somewhat achy head, I recall my strange dream I had last night. It was something I never experienced before, and to be frank I didn’t even feel like myself in the dream. Everything was so real and also kinda spiritual. I must have stayed up too long last night in order to have such a crazy dream. Since it seemed like nothing special, I head tiredly to my bathroom to prepare for the day. Besides getting a new bed frame, I could feel this day was gonna be uneventful. Working on getting some casual clothes on and my backpack, I walk into my living room only to notice an unexpected surprise. There laying in the center of my floor I saw the amulet, and it had what looked like salt circling it? I put down my bag as I walk closer to it, examining the weird sight in front of me. Picking it up from the circle, I look it over to see it their is any damage on it. Thankfully it doesn’t look damaged, but my floor on the other hand had something carved into it… What the..? Bending down I see that the carving are shaped into letters, spelling out the word, “welcome.” I get the feeling that I’m not alone anymore, and start worrying if there's someone else in the house now. Somewhat panicking, I get up to my feet and rush to my phone to dial 911. Just as quickly the room gets very, very cold and I could see a shadow of a figure in the mirror behind me. My mind races with million of thoughts, like if there's a murder behind me or a burglar. Slowly I brace myself for the worst, and turning around I face the intruder. At this moment I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating, because what I see I can only describe as my worst nightmare. The thing looks back at me with two pair of bright glowing eyes, and with a slim body that’s all white, it towers over me. I tried screaming out, but before I could the monster put one of its weird hand's over my mouth. Then with it’s other hand, it places a finger to its own lips indicating to me to be quiet. Not wanting to piss off this thing, I nod my head frantically letting it know I won’t make a noise. It moves it’s hand slowly from my mouth, and backs away to give me some space. Feeling my legs shake uncontrollably, I collapse to the ground while my eyes stay on the creature. Shockingly, it looks as scared as I am, and it crouches down on weird canine legs giving me an apologetic look. It makes weird murmuring noises that sound like whining, and it moves it’s weird long claws to carve something on the floor. “W-wait don’t to that!” I yell out frantically, And the creature stops what it’s doing to look at me. I see on my desk a pen and notepad, and hesitantly I get up to grab them. When I do so I toss them both in front of the creature and it tilts his head questionably. After a moment I’m pretty sure it understands what I’m getting at though, as it grabs the pencil to write down words on the paper. When it’s done, it’s slide the single paper to my feet and I cautiously pick it up. I read out the words, and i'm kinda shocked at the good hand writing. “I’m sorry to scare you. My name is Rasmus, and my soul is on a different realm then yours..” I scrunch my face in confusion, not at all sure what he means by his soul being on a different realm. Rasmus seems to pick up on my questioning look on my face, as he writes something else on the notepad. Like last time he slides it to me and I pick it up to read the words. “My realm I speak of is made of the undead elements, and many know me as a demon.” After reading the words I nod my head in understanding to the creature, and with trembling hands I rub the back of my neck. So much for going out to find a new bed frame, huh?

…

After another couple of hours of me and Rasmus talking, I learn that it’s a he, and it’s been living in this apartment complex because it’s soul is bind here by a spell. He tells me that he means no harm, and only wishes for me to respect the place as he lives here with me. Apparently, the people before me who lived here treated him and the home very badly. He had no choice but to scare them off, and make other people who lived in the apartment complex afraid of this room. After hearing why he’s tied to this place and his reasoning with scaring people, I realize he’s not too bad. Even though this situation is crazy and is beyond believable, I feel great sympathy for him. I mean sure, a couple of hours ago I never believed in the paranormal or cryptic’s, but now I’m interested. I do eventually get tired as well as Rasmus since we talked the entire day, and I decide to head for bed. Rasmus follows me to the bathroom and watches me as I brush my teeth. He sits like a dog really, and he’s kind of cute with his shiny white eyes as he  watches me as I brush my teeth. After I’m done brushing my teeth and get my pajamas on, I do something really strange. I reach my hand out to touch his head, and very carefully start to pet him. His startled by my actions but doesn’t refuse my touch. Rasmus makes a small purring noise, and stands up unexpectedly putting me in his arms. “Whoa, hey!” I stammer, and cringe uncontrollably as he carries me to my bed bridal style. He puts me on the bed first, then curls behind my back. I lay their emotionless as I try to comprehend what I should do now. I feel too awkward to fall asleep next to him, since I never shared my bed with a demon before. So quietly I lay there, thinking of how everything ended up to this situation.

…

After living in the apartment for three months I got used to Rasmus. Now, I usually work on my computer for a couple of hours and he watches TV. Then after I’m done, we play some video games and even occasionally talk about his dimension and my world. I learned he doesn’t need to eat, But he likes to consume food once in awhile just for the taste. Tonight, I was thinking we could watch a horror movie and try to figure out how we can untie his soul from this room. He doesn’t talk about it a lot, but I can tell he wants to be free. We worked out what caused him to get bonded to this room - which was apparently because of a satanic ritual spell - and now just need to figure out how to undo it. I’ve been searching the web a lot to see how you can undo a demon from your house, but a lot of the ways involves me sending him to hell. I didn’t want to do that to Rasmus, so for now we’re gonna just take a break from it. As I start up the movie, he bounds up behind the couch and jumps on it. This causes the whole thing to shake, and I have to remind him not to do that. “Oi Rasmus, don’t break the couch!” He blinks his eyes a couple times, but ignores me as he watches the intro. Geez, what a big fart he is now. I drop it as we watch the movie without any problems...Until up to the middle point. In this scene the killer chases an innocent girl, and this causes Rasmus to freak out. He whimpers in fright as he  grab my body forcefully and places me in his lap. He nearly squeezes the living daylights out of me, and I have to pinch the side of his ribs until he lets go. “Owmthh!” He yelps out, letting me go in the process as he rubs his now sore side. I don't feel the slightest of guilt though as I get off his lap with a huff. Really, for a giant 6”6 monster man you would think he was a fearless killing machine. As I continue to watch the movie however, I hear him whimper as he pulls out his notepad. Rasmas scribbles some words down and gives me the ripped paper. Forcefully, I take it out of his hand and read out loud the words. “Why don’t you like my lap, human?” I let out a exasperated sigh and just turn my head away from him. Over the last month especially Rasmus has been trying to touch and even hold me in his arms, which leaves me perplexed but also embarrassed. I didn’t hate it really, but It seemed so strange to me that a creature like him that could probably kill a bear, would be as soft as a rabbit. I don’t want to give him the cold shoulder all night, so I just turn to explain what i'm thinking. “I..Don’t hate you or anything, it's just kinda weird to me that you like to be so close.” I manage to say while not entirely looking into his eyes. He tilts his head at my words, but nods once as he resumes watching the movie. I watch as well, but suddenly do start to feel bad that I keep rejecting him. I thought I would feel better saying what’s on my mind but now, I kinda feel like an asshole. Very hesitant I scoot a little closer to him, and keep doing that until our legs touch each other. Rasmus notices my movements but doesn't do anything, so with little confidence I have left I actually move to his lap. Sitting their for a moment, I start thinking i'm the dumbest person in the world since I said it was weird for him to sit close to me. I was ready to just get and leave the room until I felt his arms wrap around my waist. Gasping in surprise, he pulls me down to lay on his chest, we looked each other straight in the eyes. I hear what sounds like a purr come from his throat as he moves his big hands down my back, then sliding them up to the back of my neck. I feel my body warm up as he keeps me their leaning against his snow white skin. Eventually my hands reach out to touch his face, and I admire his strange haunted looks. He has the face of a ghoul but also the face of a man, which I find surprisingly attractive. Not really thinking anymore, I just let my emotions control what my body wants to do next. I place my lips to his jaws, and kiss his face over and over again. I can tell that Rasmus is beyond flustered, as he closes his eyes while gripping the back of my shirt. He doesn't try to push me off, but keeps me pressed to his body as I show his face loving affection. I let out a small moan as I feel something wet enter my mouth, and almost choked on how long it is. His tongue is all black as he moved it around my mouth, and I hold the back of his head to keep it there. I trail my hands down to his body, until my hand is over on top of his crotch. I try rubbing down there and groping to feel if he has a dick, but I realized that I would’ve felt it a long time ago. I break the kiss and straddle his lap, confused on how I was supposed to do this with him. “How, um, do you feel sexually pleased if you don't have a...you know.” I vaguely point down, and he makes a grunting noise like he understands what I mean. He grabs his notepad and write down some words on the paper, then like last time I read it. “I don't have a sex organ like you humans have; but I do have something better.” He forms a little grin, and I feel one of his hand creep onto my crotch. I let him shove his entire hand into my boxers as he fumbles with my dick, and when he started to stroke it I felt shy. Becoming overwhelmed by the sensation I close my eyes, and lean back with my hands resting on his thighs. Rasmus whines a little when I do this and at that moment I felt something slimy touch my dick. Moaning out loud from the pleasure, I looked down to see that he emerge his entire mouth onto my shaft. Then when he started to roll his tongue over it I felt myself about ready to burst from the feeling. He keeps his gaze on me with now half shut eyes, and when i'm about to cum all over his mouth he pulls away. Feeling frustrated that he stopped, I let out an exasperated sigh while looking at him annoyed. He smiles a wicked grin as he kisses up my stomach, and before long he towers over me with his strong frame. He moves both his hands down my shaft, stroking it until i'm hard as a rock again. He then moves his ass over my dick, and slowly emerge my shaft into his tight pucker. Feeling his tight insides close around me, I grab hold of his arms tightly as he rides on top roughly. Rasmas let out small purrs and grunts as he moves faster, then when the amuse pleasure bring me over the edge, I come inside letting my seeds fill him full. I lay their panting, letting my shaft slip out of his ass when he gets up. He kisses all over me as he murmurs sweet little purrs into my ear. I was able to sit up and meet his kisses, however my legs were still shaking from the afterglow. He must have notice I wasn’t able to stand as he picks me up in his arms. Taking the rest of my clothes off unexpectedly, he carries me into the shower. Their he turns on the water and when it's hot enough, he emerges us both in letting the water trickle down our bodies. He holds me close while I grabbed the soap to clean his body as well as mine up. After our little shower, we both head to my mattress to get comfortable in the cool blanket sheets, but even though I’m under them my naked body still feels kinda cold, so I crawl up on Rasmas chest. He smiles happily as I do this, and pets my back while I close my eyes. I feel his cool breath on my hair, and before we both fell asleep I mummer something to him that’s been on my mind nonstop. “I really need to get a bed frame for this mattress.” Rasmus makes a small grunt noise, and I can tell that he agrees with me as well.

[bountyofbeads]

https://medium.com/@CleverTitleTK/their-own-two-feet-8ddd1dbb1602

You have to read this article on the immigrant roots of Ken Cuccinelli and yes his public charge grandparents when they arrived in this country with no education or money. Jennifer has done a great job of documenting(See Website For Documents) his family's immigrant history. His hypocrisy is rich. PLEASE READ 📖 AND SHARE. TY 🤔

😂🤣😂🤣

Their Own Two Feet

Jennifer Mendelssohn | Published August 30, 2019 | Medium | Posted August 30, 2019 6:15 PM ET

As the new public face of the Trump administration’s draconian immigration policies, acting USCIS Director Ken Cuccinelli has wasted no time stirring up collective ire. Most notably, he set off a firestorm of criticism by rewriting the iconic Emma Lazarus poem that has long functioned as a kind of unofficial American immigration mantra. “Give me your tired and your poor who can stand on their own two feet and who will not become a public charge,” he proudly told NPR’s Rachel Martin, who somehow resisted the urge to burst out laughing and/or slap him upside the head. (You can read several historians’ takes on the public charge rule here, but suffice it to say that the concept, which was meant to weed out only the very, very least desirable of immigrants, has never been enforced as rigorously as Cuccinelli is suggesting.)

Cuccinelli later elaborated thatLazarus’ poem was “referring back to people coming from Europe where they had class-based societies, where people were considered wretched if they weren’t in the right class.” Wink wink, nudge, nudge, we hear you! And if you had the word “Europe” in Bigotry Bingo, drink!

For the past two years, I’ve run a project called #resistancegenealogy, which looks at the family histories of public figures in order to show just how similar so many of our stories really are. Cuccinelli’s very public numbskullery definitely set a new record: never before I have I received so many texts, tweets, emails and Facebook messages from people so eager to learn about someone’s family tree. (Side note: Never before have I seen so many people who’ve never done genealogy try to do it themselves and get it so very very wrong. You realize more than one person in a town can have the same name, right? And that not all records are online? And that other people’s public family trees are very often…wrong? Here, read this.)

And never before has a family history — or at least the Italian half of that history that I’ll address here — been so utterly unsurprising. I mean, where did you all think the story of the Cuccinelli family of Hoboken, New Jersey was going to go, really? C’mon now.

And so, here I am, just a girl with some documents, standing in front of her country, asking it not to betray its immigrant past. Asking it to remember that welcoming the “wretched refuse of your teeming shore,” even when that “refuse” comes with little more than grit, determination and a desire to do better for their children, is a bedrock American value, a value that allowed many of you reading these words right now to be here. It’s a value that allowed Ken Cuccinelli — descended from Southern Italians of modest means and little education who would likely never pass muster under the proposed changes — to be here. I mean, hellooooo? Were you listening at allduring the 4th grade unit on immigration?

Cuccinelli called a New York Daily Newsarticle about his family history (albeit one that identifies the wrong ship’s manifest as his great-grandfather’s) “intellectually dishonest.” Any comparison to past immigrants, he maintained, was invalid because “the welfare state didn’t exist back then.”

Nativists love to fall back on this argument, but they also still love to contrast the behavior of current immigrants with what they believe to be their own ancestors’ spotless — and “legal!” — immigration and assimilation histories, despite the fact that comparisons to “legal” immigration at a time when there were almost no immigration laws for Europeans to break are inherently problematic. And despite the fact that the historical record is often at odds with their starry-eyed, mythologized understanding of their ancestors’ pasts.

“My great-grandfather knew upon arriving in the United States that he had to learn English and that he had to work hard to succeed in this country,” Cuccinelli told the Daily News.

“My family worked together to ensure that they could provide for their own needs, and they never expected the government to do it for them,” he said at a press briefing.

I’m so very very tired of telling you this very same story over and over again, but since so many of you asked — some less politely than others, btw, can we please work on that moving forward? — let’s go to the videotape and look at the Cuccinelli family story, shall we?

THE CUCCINELLIS

Ken Cuccinelli’s paternal grandfather, Dominick Luigi Cuccinelli, was born in Hoboken, New Jersey to — are you sitting down? — Italian immigrant parents who’d only been in the country for about ten years. Ken’s great-grandfather was Domenico Cuccinelli (né Cucciniello) born on the 6th of December, 1874 in Avellino, Italy. His 1897 marriage certificate  identifies him and his wife, Fortuna Preziosi, as farmers.

In March of 1901, Domenico became part of the massive wave of Italians who lit out for greater opportunity and stability in America, sailing on the SS Patria from Naples. Identified as a “laborer,” he arrived at Ellis Island with $8.75, equivalent to about $260 today. His contact in the U.S.? An unnamed cousin already living on Adams Street in Hoboken.

Ancestry indexed this record under “Camiello.” Which may be why you couldn’t find it.

Domenico’s wife Fortuna would follow her husband to America the following year on the Algeria, arriving at Ellis Island with their two small children and $20.

It’s important to remember that for all our talk of welcoming the huddled masses with open arms, American immigration history also has a pronounced strain of ugly nativism, a rather ironic twist for a nation founded on stolen land. (And we’re talking here only about immigrants by choice.) Which means that Ken Cuccinelli’s immigrant family was subjected to the very same brand of bigoted suspicion that he is now trying to inflict on others. The Ken Cuccinellis of the early twentieth century — though they didn’t typically have last names like Cuccinelli — were just as insistent that people like the Cuccinellis didn’t have the right to become Americans. That they wouldn’t fit in. That they had nothing to offer and would only be a drain on “our” resources.

“[Italians] are coming in waves and think they have a right to come….There has been a surfeit of unskilled illiterates for years and the people do not want any more of them,” opined the Jersey (City) Journal on November 29, 1902, just a few months after Ken’s great-grandmother arrived there.

So what became of the Cuccinellis? Well, the first we see of the family in American records is in the 1905 New Jersey state census. Father Domenico is employed as a laborer, supporting a family of six. And though they’ve been in the U.S. for three and four years at this point, neither parent reported being able to speak English.

But as is so often the case, the Cuccinelli family moved up in the world. By the 1915 census, both Domenico and Fortuna are listed as literate and English speaking, despite his having never had a formal education and her having only completed eighth grade. In 1919, Domenico, still working as a laborer and now living in nearby Jersey City, declared his intention to become an American citizen, a process he completed three years later.

You’ll notice the family’s 1922 address: 401 Monroe Street in Hoboken, where they are also listed in the 1925 city directory. Just a few houses down on Monroe (the entire neighborhood has streets grandly named after American presidents, incidentally) was another family headed by Italian immigrants — a boilermaker and a midwife. They had a son named Frank just a few years younger than Ken’s grandfather Dominick. Perhaps you’ll recognize the last name and wonder what would have been lost had his immigrant parents been barred.

By 1930, Domenico Cuccinelli owned a home on Madison Street. And by 1940, he and his wife were comfortably retired, living in a house worth $5000, the very picture of the American dream.

THE POLICASTROS

Ken’s grandmother Josephine Policastro Cuccinelli was also the Jersey-born daughter of Italian immigrants: Gaetano Policastro and Maria Ronga (also spelled Rongo) from Monte San Giacomo in Salerno.

A teenaged Maria Ronga (her birth certificate indicates she was 17) arrived at Ellis Island in November of 1903 with her widowed 48-year-old mother, Giuseppa Romano, who has no listed occupation, and three younger siblings. Giuseppa’s husband Giuseppe Ronga, a tailor, had died in 1901 at the age of 44, which may have played a role in their decision to move. With all of $5 between the five of them, they were detained at Ellis Island — as indicated by the “S.I.” for “Special Inquiry” stamped by their names in the margin of the manifest. The “Record of Aliens Held For Special Inquiry” list indicates the reason they were held, abbreviated as “L.P.C.;” it stands for “Likely Public Charge.” So yes, the great-grandmother of the man now beating the drums to tighten the public charge rule was…labeled a likely public charge herself.

After a day’s detainment and a hearing — at which Maria’s older brother Vincenzo, who paid for their passage, would have likely been called to testify that he could support his mother and siblings — the family was allowed to enter the United States, as were more than 98% of those who came through Ellis Island.

But make no mistake: there were many who would have happily sent the Rongas packing. Witness this Judgemagazine cartoon from the very year they arrived, which depicts southern European immigrants as filthy rats, bringing crime and anarchy into the country. (Nice Mafia hats, right?) Doesn’t this sound… familiar?

The new arrivals moved in with Maria’s older brother Vincenzo, now going by the name James, in Hoboken. Ken’s great-grandmother Maria found work as a candy maker, as shown in the 1905 census.

Two and a half years after her arrival, though she is somehow still only 17, Maria “Ronca” (age and spelling are slippery concepts, genealogically speaking) married Gaetano “Thomas” Policastro, a recently widowed father of two with an eighth grade education. Gaetano was also born in Monte San Giacomo and appears to have immigrated as a child in the 1880s.

In 1908, Thomas and Maria had the first of their eight children together, Ken’s grandmother Josephine. The 1910 census shows them living with Maria’s family, including her mother Josephine Romano Ronga. Thomas is working as a salesman at a market. Both the 1910 and 1920 census indicated that Ken’s great-great-grandmother Josephine never learned English, even after being in the country for 17 years. And…so what? Immigrants often took their sweet time learning to speak English, if at all. Their children learned to speak English at school so that one day their great-great-grandsons could become the attorney general of Virginia and maybe one day feel the need to cover up the naked statute in the state symbol. Problem solved.

Though the 1930 census shows the Policastros owning a home worth $12,000, as the nation tumbled deeper into the grips of the Great Depression, like so many Americans, they appear to have fallen on hard times. A series of legal notices in the Jersey Journal(available on GenealogyBank) gesture to the outlines of the story: A lawsuit over non-payment on a $8150 bank note. A foreclosure on the Policastro home on Paterson Plank Road. A bankruptcy hearing. A District Court judgment against Thomas for $450, filed by James Ronga. Would the Policastros have met their own great-grandson’s requirement that immigrants always “carry their own weight?” (According to the Annual report of the Attorney General of the United States, about 1300 of New Jersey’s approximately four million residents voluntarily filed for personal bankruptcy in the fiscal year ended 1931.)

But by 1940, now nearing 60, Thomas Policastro had rebounded. The census shows him renting a home in nearby North Bergen. He is listed as the proprietor of a scrap metal business, and earning $1300 a year, right around the national average. Two of his American-born sons served during World War II. The Policastros proved that they deserved the chance they were given — the chance to have ups and downs and everything in between, the chance to pave the way for future generations to soar.

But one last point. Like the Cuccinellis, the Policastros also had neighbors of note, though they may not have been as well-known as the Sinatras. In 1920, the Policastros lived just a mile away from another Jersey City family headed by a Jewish immigrant who never completed high school and worked for decades at an overalls factory in nearby Paterson. This family was from the former Austro-Hungarian province of Galicia, and had arrived in 1896. Much like the Policastros, this family also eventually found themselves in the pages of the local newspaper. In 1940, the patriarch was arrested with his son-in-law and two other men on charges of stealing from that very same overalls factory; the charges were later dropped and the sentence suspended after they made restitution. But all of that Jewish immigrant’s grandsons would go on to college and upstanding careers. Two served in the military. One became a lawyer. One had a master’s degree. And in the fall of 1986, one of that immigrant’s great-granddaughters left Long Island to enroll at the University of Virginia, a venerable institution founded by an American president. Here she is in the First Year Faces Book, resplendent in a Benetton vest and pearls.

And one of her classmates at that venerable institution? Well, she knew him by his nickname: “Cooch.”

So yes, the scions of two Jersey City families headed by those uneducated and sometimes troubled immigrants seemed to have done alright for themselves. It’s a quintessentially American story, one I see day in and day out doing genealogical research: immigrant narratives are messy and imperfect and complicated but almost universally, they ultimately end with those families in a much better place than they would have been otherwise. That same great-grandfather’s sister, for instance, stayed behind in their ancestral town of Sniatyn and is presumed murdered during the Holocaust. So was my maternal grandfather’s brother, despite his writing a desperate letter to President “Rosiwelt” begging for refuge for his family in America.

How many future Ken Cuccinellis are the Trump administration’s increasingly restrictive immigration policies going to keep out? Who or what are those policies protecting, other than unfounded racist fears that follow in the very worst of American traditions?

Just about twenty years after Ken Cuccinelli’s family arrived from Italy and began their ascent up the ladder of the American dream, the ladder that lifted him to the grounds of Mr. Jefferson’s University and to law school at George Mason, to elected office in the state of Virginia and to a nomination to head a federal agency, Congress enacted the infamous Johnson-Reed Act, which set up quotas specifically designed to keep out people just like them. The number of Italians arriving in America dropped from 200,000 a year in the first decade of the twentieth century to under 4,000.

As Cuccinelli’s own career makes clear, the critics were dead wrong about the potential contributions of humble immigrants like his ancestors. And so is he.

CREDITS: I’m grateful to Megan Smolenyak, Michael Cassara, Rich Venezia and Tammy Hepps, who provided research, translation and editorial assistance.

[hope-for-olicity]

Pumpkin Spice and Football 5/?

Felicity is the new Social Media Coordinator for the New York Jets, Oliver is the veteran quarterback - their worlds will change when they literally collide.

I LOVE the Fall and I hope you do too! This story will focus on all the fabulousness that Fall has to offer including NFL football. That being said, you don’t have to like football to like this story. This story is also available on AO3.

Thanks so so much to the AMAZING @mel-loves-all for the moodboard!

5. Opening Day

Previously:

Oliver opened the door to a blonde knockout. Work Felicity was absolutely beautiful but this Felicity OH MY GOD. Felicity stood before with her hair down and curled, no glasses, tight dark blue jeans, light black sweater with bright red lips. She looked comfortable but still OH MY GOD. “Felicity,” he said her name slowly.

“Oliver.” She could not stop staring. Those pale blue jeans fit just right and the blue t-shirt was just snug enough to emphasize his abs. “And here I thought green was your colour?”

“Thank you. Come in, please come in.” Oliver wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at her but luckily he’d snapped out of it. Felicity followed him inside. “You look amazing, no beautiful, I mean you look amazingly beautiful.”

Felicity couldn’t be sure but she thought she saw Oliver Queen blush. She would have to tell Iris mission accomplished with the outfit. “Thank you, also thank you for offering to cook. Oh, I almost forgot I brought you this.” Felicity held out a small fern. “I understand they don’t need much care, so I thought perfect plant for a busy man.”

Oliver was shocked. He’d never had someone give him such a thoughtful gift. He took the fern, walking across the room to put it on his bookshelf.

“Oh, you don’t like it. I’m sorry. I mean I wanted to get you something, I kind of thought you’d have everything. I can take back.” Felicity began to walk toward him.

Oliver walked toward her stopping her by putting his hand on her shoulder. “Felicity, I love it. I am really touched that you gave me such a thoughtful present.”

“Really?” Felicity suddenly felt very shy.

“Really.” Oliver nodded. “Now let’s go back to the kitchen. Dinner is ready, I must feed you.”

Felicity smiled as her stomach growled. “Clearly, you must.”

*****

They ate in companionable silence on stools at the kitchen island. Felicity really was amazed at Oliver’s cooking talents. Was there anything this man couldn’t do? “So good,” she looked up to see Oliver beaming. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Yep. But I’m really glad you like my cooking. I mean, it was only a simple chicken and veg dinner - wait until you try my chicken cordon bleu.”

Felicity smiled. “I really hope that is another dinner invitation because I am always happy to eat amazing food.”

“I’ll remember that. Next time, I promise to have a dining table.” Oliver smiled. He thought this was going well. He couldn’t help noticing how lovely Felicity looked in his new place.

“My mother is coming this weekend.” Felicity blurted out. Instantly looked embarrassed like she let a secret out.

“That will be nice. Where does she live? Is she interested in football?” Oliver was suddenly panicked that Felicity might miss the Jets opening game. He really wanted her to be there.

Felicity chuckled. “She loves football! In fact, she has a huge crush on Coach Lance. I’m just hoping she behaves herself when I introduce them. My mother has a history of embarrassing me - we are very different people. I love her, she’s my Mom but let’s just say it’s better than she lives in Las Vegas.”

“So, you will be coming to the game?” Oliver couldn’t hide his sense of relief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it! My mother is actually coming this weekend because of the game. She’s cheering for the Jets. I apologize in advance if you meet her. Not that you have to meet her. Just in case…” Felicity blushed, taking another sip of wine.

“I would love to meet your mother. If it...happens.” Oliver picked up their empty plates. “Now, for dessert.”

“You eat dessert?” Felicity couldn’t help staring directly at his stomach. She knew what was beneath that shirt.

“I bought dessert special for you.” Oliver took the container of mint chip ice cream out of the freezer. He watched Felicity’s eyes light up. “I did good?” He smiled.

“You did AMAZING!” Felicity jumped up from her seat. She quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. “Oh,” Felicity jumped back covering her mouth. “I didn’t think that through, it might be a bit soon for me to invade your personal space like that. I’m sorry.”

“Felicity,” Oliver grabbed her hand before she could turn away. “It’s okay. I actually like you invading my personal space.”

“Yeah,” Felicity looked up at Oliver’s sincere blue eyes.

“Yeah, I like you, Felicity.” He squeezed her hand a little tighter. “I know we just met but I’d like to get to know you better.” Felicity was not part of his focus on football plan, however, he just could not help himself.

“I’d like that too,” Felicity smiled. “Now, can I have my ice cream, please?”

*****

Opening Day

Oliver had just finished his warm up. He looked up into the stands searching for his sister. Thea texted she was there, she would be cheering loudest. He scanned the crowd before he found her with their mother standing next to her. Both were wearing Jets jerseys. Oliver couldn’t lie, it meant a lot that his mother was there. She hadn’t always been supportive of his career choice when his father was alive but he was happy to see her support now.

He jogged to the sideline just in time to see Felicity standing on the sideline with the photographer Caitlin Snow and a woman in a tight green dress cocktail dress. He heard Felicity call out “Oliver!”

“Hey, Felicity, Caitlin” he nodded at the women, waiting for an introduction to the third.

“Oliver, this is my mother Donna Smoak.” Felicity turned to her mother. “Mom, this is…”

“Oliver Queen.” Donna leaned forward to shake his hand. “It’s amazing to meet you. You are one of my favourite quarterbacks. Wishing you all the best today.  So glad you got the chance to meet my daughter. She’s single, you know.” Donna winked.

“Mom,” Felicity said lowly. “I told you, I needed to talk to Oliver for work. Can you give us a moment?”

Donna smiled, batted her eyelashes. “It was really nice to meet you.”  Then walked toward Caitlin.

“Sorry, about that. I hope she didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.” Felicity looked sheepishly. “I was just hoping to get a quote from you about how you feel right before kickoff? Would you mind if I filmed it and posted it right away?”

Oliver loved that Felicity care if he felt uncomfortable. It had been a long time since anyone took his comfort into consideration. It was really nice to be considered. “Don’t worry about your mom. She was nice. As for the quote sure. Should we do it right here?”

“How about we stand you here.” Felicity moved Oliver to stand with his back to the sideline, with the fans on one side and the field on the other. “This way people can see a bit of everything. Okay, I’ll start filming in 3, 2, 1”

“I’m here with Jets starting quarterback Oliver Queen right before kickoff. How are you feeling about today?”

“I’m excited.” Oliver bounced on his feet a bit. “Anything is possible and with this team - I believe we will make it far. We are ready. I see the Jets as the team to beat this year. I’m so happy to be part of it all.”

“That was Jets quarterback Oliver Queen, tune in opening day for kickoff happening ten minutes from now.” Felicity switched off the camera. “Thanks so much for that. It should drive a lot of traffic to our website, plus remind people to turn on the game! GO JETS!”

“Thank you, Felicity. Now, I have to run, literally.” Felicity watched Oliver jogging away, she could deny she admired the view.

Felicity turned to look for her mother with Caitlin, Caitlin smiled, shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know where she went. I just sent you some pics to post.”

“Fantastic, I’ll post them. Then look for my mother. She’s a grown woman. How much trouble could she get in, really…”

*****

Turns out doing her job took a little longer than planned. Felicity, along with all the Jets fans were disappointed to see Oliver throw an interception for a touchdown on his first play. She really wanted to go give him a hug. But she knew that would be unprofessional. He needed to shake it off to move forward with the game.

She was about to go look for her mother when she came back wearing a Jets jersey over her dress. Felicity smiled. “You look cute, mom.”

Donna turned around, “look!” She turned around to reveal the jersey had Queen with the number fourteen on it’s back.

“Wow, Mom. I guess Oliver made quite the impression.” Felicity chuckled.

“Don’t you laugh!” Donna dug in her oversized bag. “I got one for you, too.” Donna handed Felicity her very own Oliver Queen jersey.

Felicity considered buying herself a jersey without a name, she didn’t want to show favouritism but if she was honest she preferred this one. Felicity slipped the jersey over her head. “Go Jets! We should get a photo! Caitlin!”

“Aww, this is great! Family time with the Jets!” Caitlin took their photo. “Now, turn around, we can post this one, Felicity.”

“Let’s go grab our seats, Mom. I have some posting and cheering to do!”

*****

Oliver couldn’t deny that throwing the interception shook him. He came off on the sidelines deliberately not looking up into the stands. He sat down, shaking his head, he knew the television cameras were watching. He felt someone sit next to him on the bench, he looked up slowly expected to see a supportive teammate, he was surprised to see Coach Lance.

“You know what you have to do, right?” Coach Lance smiled.

This was an old line of theirs so Oliver knew the precise answer. “Go out and make them forget all about it.”

“Exactly.” Coach Lance smiled and stood.

Oliver got up off the bench. “Coach, this is not the game. Watch out what happens next.”

Coach Lance nodded, heading back to watch his defence.

Oliver looked back at the stands, saw his family, then John and his family. John caught his eye, nodded in support.

The Jets defence did their job, Oliver was back on the field in no time. The interception was quickly forgotten when Oliver threw a rookie his first touchdown. The fans loved it. Oliver jogged off the field, smiled as Felicity took a picture. She gave him a thumbs up.

The Jets went on to win 48-7. Oliver made sure no one remembered the first play of the game.

Felicity watched the team celebrate their first win on the field. She wanted to rush out and hug them all. So she hugged her Mom instead. She watched Coach Lance cross the field to shake the other coaches hand when he was on his way back she turned to her mother, “come on.”

Donna’s eyes beamed.

Felicity knew the reason her mother was here. “Coach Lance,” she called out.

Coach Lance smiled, made his way toward Felicity and her mother. “Felicity. I think we gave you some good stuff today.”

“That you did! Excellent game. Coach Lance, I’d like to introduce you to my mother Donna Smoak.”

Donna Smoak shimmed up to Coach Lance, Felicity had to hold back a groan. She should have known her mother would hit on the coach. She just can’t help herself. Felicity thought about interceded but Coach Lance looked like he had it under control.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms Smoak. Your daughter is doing really good work here.” Quentin smiled and blushed.

“I’ve always been a big fan Coach Lance. It was nice to see you in action today. So glad, Felicity invited me to come visit. It really is an honour to meet you. I bet you know so many amazing stories.” Donna put her hand on Quentin’s arm.

“Well, I don’t know about that...but I guess I know some.” Quentin looked nervous.

“I know you are a very busy man, but maybe sometime you could fill me.” Donna poured all her charm into her smile.

“Actually, my daughter had to cancel on me tonight.” Quentin looked down at his feet, then directly at Donna, “If you want to do dinner?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure Felicity has plans with her friends. It would be nice to hang out with a grown up.” Donna put her arm through Quentin’s before turning to Felicity. “I’m going to go out to dinner. I’ll make my own way back to your condo. See, you honey.”

Felicity watched her mouth agape as her mother was led away by Coach Lance. It was as though she wasn’t even there.

“Well, how about that? Nice jersey, by the way,” Oliver chuckled as he strolled up beside her on the sideline. He couldn’t lie he loved seeing her in his jersey.

Felicity turned to see Oliver. “Thanks, my mom bought it for me, you know before she ditched me for Coach Lance.”

“I think she did ditch you for the coach.” Oliver smiled.

“Congrats to you mister game winner! What a game, I’m surprised I still have a voice! I hope you are heading out to celebrate.” Felicity was proud of herself for not hugging him. It took a lot.

“Actually, I’m heading out to dinner with my family and here they are.”

Felicity turned to see Thea and a willowy blonde woman heading in their direction.

“Thea! Mom!” Oliver waved.

Thea rushed toward her brother and threw herself into his arms. “1 and 0 big brother that’s what I’m talking about!!!”

Felicity watched enviously as they hugged.

“Hi, I’m Moira Queen, Oliver’s mother,” the woman extended her hand.

Felicity shook her hand. “Felicity Smoak, the new Social Media Coordinator.”

“AND my new neighbour and friend,” Oliver added. “Good to see you, mom. Thanks for coming.”

Moira pulled him for a hug. “You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you, Oliver.”

“Aww, thanks, mom. But really it was a team effort.” Oliver blushed.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Mrs. Queen. I’m going to head out. Oliver, I’ll be in touch about a follow-up interview. We still need to do some work on your social media sites.”

“I promise to text.” He smiled. Oliver felt sad watching Felicity walk away, he wanted to invite her to dinner but he wasn’t sure if it was too soon for dinner with the family.

Oliver just hoped Felicity was far enough away to avoid hearing Thea razing him. “So, you STILL haven’t made her your girlfriend? Ollie! Do you need pointers? You’ve gotten slow.”

So hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)

@mindramblingsfics @memcjo @mel-loves-all @wherethereissmoak @green-arrows-of-karamel @spaztronautwriter @tdgal1 @vaelisamaza @lucyyh @tangled23works @swordandarrow @marcsmom6 @smoaking-greenarrow @pattid1 @1106angel @it-was-a-red-heeler @obibaldwin @folly1977 @nathiawarrior @alemap74 @samwinter09 @miriam1779 @coal000 @alejandra1400 @you-are-not-done-fighting @matalala @alexisa1206 @blondeeoneexox @felicityfan20 @emw751103 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @stephswims @fortheluvofolicity @ajillgreen @laurabelle2930

[jranbrandt]

What Are You Worth?

I have been laid off four times. Each time, it was called something different: “Realignment”, “Redundancy”, “Furlough”, “Here’s Three Weeks’ Pay for Not Coming In Anymore”. 

I made that last one up.

But regardless of branding, the fact is, you must qualify yourself for a new job that likely differs greatly from the old one. Towards that end, there are books, blogs, and bulletins a-plenty on the topic of discovering, nurturing, and marketing one’s in-demand skills.

But skills are only part of the equation. What about the money? How much is a good offer? What is the value of your skills and experience today, in your industry, in your locale? Pay rates, both literal and hearsay, can be found scattershot through any sampling of job-board listings. There is no single source of truth here – some figures come from recruiters, others from internal HR, others from peers. Some quotes are meant to entice, others, unfortunately, to lure. Besides, what use is it, knowing the salary of a position 2,000 miles away?

The exercise of pricing oneself in a market is often not performed until it has to be: at the workforce center, while completing an online application, when asked point-blank by a hiring manager. How likely is it that you’ll compose an informed, objective response on the spot? What’s worse, what’s the risk of basing your job search on a dream figure, holding out for so long that you wind up having to take any offer, no matter what it is? 

Before the circumstances are thrust upon you, here is an approach that I have found to be both useful and rewarding.

Check out Occupational Employment Statistics (OES). This website, maintained by the Bureau of Labor Statistics, provides a wealth of data that can serve as the basis for valuing yourself in your industry in your location.

Why consult government data? Objectivity comes to mind. Many salary surveys are driven by figures supplied by current and former employees (who <gasp> might not be completely honest), or by placement professionals (see previous gasp). OES data comes from the employers themselves as reported to the government. There is little incentive for them to distort and possibly serious consequences if they do.

Start by navigating to the “OES Data” page. Then get a pen, something to write on, a refreshing snack, and start fact-finding. This article is not meant to be a training manual, so there will be no step-by-step instructions or screen shots. Suffice it to say you must first determine how what-you-do or what-you-wish-to-do maps to official occupational classifications. There might not be a precise match. That’s okay, the object is to get as close as possible. Combine that with your geographic area and execute a search.

The results will include Percentile values and an Annual Mean Wage. Look at the 25th, 50th, 75th, and 90th percentiles. Ask yourself:

What is the median level of experience in this profession in this area? 5 years? 12? 20? How does my length of experience compare?

How does my current or most recent employer rank me on my performance reviews? Am I a rock star? Above average? Adequate? What percentile am I in value to this employer compared with my peers?

Chances are you have arrived at two different percentiles. That’s okay. Look at the range of earnings values between the two. That’s what your skills and experience probably command in the marketplace right now.

These results might be surprising, but not necessarily depressing. Either way, you will have a much more objective basis on which to form a job-seeking strategy.

This exercise has even more value to those who are not in a state of transition. For example: 

If you are “ahead of the curve” in terms of percentile –

And you are not looking to make a change, allow yourself a feel-good moment. But, if you are in the 90th percentile today, what are your prospects for continued increases? Think about how well your skills and experience position you to reach for the next rung.

And you are looking to make a change, ask yourself: What are your chances of doing the same or better elsewhere? How would you demonstrate to a new employer that you are worth your present place on the curve? This is a good means to sharpen your skills at informed self-advocacy.

And you sense a change is imminent, compare your present spot with the Annual Mean. Are you prepared to absorb a decrease if you had to? If so, for how long?

If you are near the Annual Mean Wage –

And you are staying put, this is a good time to compare your earnings with your performance reviews. Are you a 75th-percentile employee earning a 50th-percentile wage? This would be a solid talking point for your next performance or salary review. Even if you cannot persuade your employer to close the gap in one fell swoop (and you most likely cannot — they have budgets and other employees to consider), you may get the momentum going in your favor. The main thing is: your employer will know where you stand and the factual basis backing you up.

And if you are looking to make a change, you are probably more competitively priced than many of your displaced peers. But don’t sell yourself short. Ask yourself the same question as above and work on that informed self-advocacy.

And you sense a change is imminent, the opportunities for a lateral move are probably more abundant. If you can afford to wait for something better, you’ll have a more accurate picture of what “better” looks like.

If you are below the Annual Mean Wage –

Ask yourself, right now: “Is this worth it? How happy am I right here, right now?” You might have nowhere to go but up.

No matter what your situation is today, there is something to be gained from improving your fiscal self-awareness, today. 

[altonjdorado-blog]

The Law of Attraction - The seven Biggest Myths Debunked

The Law of Attraction has gotten a good deal of media interest in the recent past. Because of the film The Secret as well as the consequent explosion of tv, print media as well as web coverage, almost every person in Western society has read the expression "Law of Attraction". Most people, nonetheless, have picked up incomplete information and snippets here and there and do not really have a great understanding of the way the law works.

This has resulted in a widespread misunderstanding of the way the Law of Attraction actually works, or even whether or not it actually works at all. A large amount of people are feeling a deep resonance when they're told they produce the own reality of theirs. They identify a truth in this particular notion. Nevertheless, they usually swiftly become frustrated when they are exposed to incomplete info and myths, and cannot appear to be successful. They "know" that there is something to this, they could feel it; though they just do not understand how to use it just yet.

This article seeks to debunk the 7 major misconceptions presently circulating about the Law of Attraction and bring some clarity to the topic.

Myth #1: The Law of Attraction is magic

The Myth: "Law of Attraction supporters will let you know that all you've to accomplish is think positively as well as the material you need will simply come to you. Naturally this's wrong, after things as cash, automobiles and houses do not only show up out of thin air."

The Myth Debunked: Nobody with a genuine comprehension of the Law of Attraction has previously said that in case you simply assume a good consideration, a home with a thousand bucks over the kitchen table along with a Ferrari in the entrance will simply drop from the skies right before you. This's often a quote utilized by individuals attempting to say that the Law of Attraction is a fraud. But the quote is not correct. Which is not the way the Law of Attraction operates at all.

The Law of Attraction does not only literally drop stuff in the lap of yours. It brings you gatherings with only the right folks at the proper time, coincidences and brilliant ideas. It is the duty of yours to pay attention to those suggestions, adhere to your hunches and understand the coincidences.

For instance, you would love to reveal a house. The Law of Attraction provides you with an insight to push through a particular neighborhood you do not usually drive through. You see a home with a For Sale sign in the backyard. The house appears perfect, except you are pretty sure it is entirely out of the budget range of yours. You decide to end as well as knock on the doorstep anyway. It seems the owners are a beautiful few that are going to Australia in a month. You and they actually hit it off and they also choose to offer you lease to own terms you are able to pay for. They really want you to lead there. Thus, you find the best home at a cost you are in a position to pay, under circumstances which you never could've expected. Did it drop directly into your lap? Well, not basically, absolutely no. But in case you paid interest and followed the insights as well as impulses the Universe was driving for you, it could've seemed virtually as simple as in case it'd. This's the way the Law of Attraction takes you items. It finds whatever you are searching for that's also searching for yourself and also brings you together through many events that are perfect, hunches and insights.

Myth #2 - All you've to accomplish is visualize

The Myth: "The Law of Attraction is simply about visualization. That is the reason they tell you to produce the like and vision boards. You are meant to stare at the items you would like and they'll simply arrive at you (see Myth #1)"

The Myth Debunked: This one is partly correct. Visualization could be a valuable tool you consume training yourself to produce what you would like. It is not the visualization that produces, however. You produce through the vibration that you simply provide. The vibration you provide is driven by the views you habitually assume (beliefs). Visualization is able to enable you to retrain the ideas of yours, but there is more to it than that. In case you imagine a gorgeous automobile, but possess the perception that you will never get an automobile that way, you are able to imagine each day, every morning, which car's not likely to show up. How can you know in case you harbor a contradictory belief? You are able to tell by the way in which you feel when you imagine. In case it feels really, great to imagine the automobile, and entire visualization is positive, you are performing well. In case, nonetheless, it seems a little off and your visualization requires somewhat of a bad turn, you have only uncovered several negative opinions.

For instance, you ask exactly how you will afford the payments, that would point to a perception that states "I cannot afford a brand new car"; or maybe you may hope your children do not mess up the gorgeous brand new seats, that may point to a belief that you simply cannot have things that are good and often get wrecked, so, exactly why bother anyway... Visualization is an invaluable tool in manifestation, though it is not the development process itself.

Myth #3 - The Law of Attraction is new

The Myth: "If the Law of Attraction is truly a law, exactly why has not anyone found it before? This's only some new fad."

The Myth Debunked: The Law of Attraction is not new. It has been in existence since the start of, well, all. It may be argued it is probably the oldest law in the Universe. The main reason that a lot of folks are learning about it today, is since increasingly more individuals are waking up and knowing, and at least getting a look of, who they are. A lot more people are requesting this info than in the past, and consequently, the Law of Attraction should take them more information than ever before. You will find more books created on this subject than we have already seen. Because of the internet, individuals are able to find solutions to their questions immediately.

The info isn't "new"; we're merely seeking and also ready to get additional info, and also at a faster rate than in the past. Additionally, we're residing in a moment in which the majority of us can talk about religious things and Universal laws openly with no fear to be used at the stake or perhaps stoned to death. Almost all of this has permitted the thought of the Law of Attraction to distribute at an unprecedented speed. Myth #4 - The Law of Attraction is Non-Christian

The Myth: "I am a Christian and consequently I can't trust the Law of Attraction. This's merely a lot of New Agey stuff which conflicts with Christian beliefs"

The Myth Debunked: This a woman couldn't be further from the reality. You will find plenty of pathways in the Bible which reference the Law of Attraction. Several of these verses could be traced back nearly 3000 years. Jesus said "Everything is possible to him that believes." And "He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and higher works than these shall he do..." Here are several more: "As a male thinketh, therefore he is." (Proverbs 23:7). "It is through believing that male forms that which he's in life". (Proverbs 23:7). "For everybody that asks receives; he who seeks finds; and also to him who knocks, the door shall be opened." (Matthew 7:8)

These, and numerous other proverbs just love them, support the idea that your thoughts create the truth of yours and you are able to produce something you need. The issue is the fact that Christianity and also the Law of Attraction aren't based on inherently disagreeing principles. There are in fact now internet websites on the internet dedicated to the research of the Law of Attraction from a Christian thing of perspective.

Myth #5 - I've to take action to think of the Law of Attraction "work"

The Myth: "You must learn how to make use of the Law of Attraction to be able to get it to perform. If it is not helping you, you have to be doing it wrong."

The Myth Debunked: This's one more myth that's dependent on an extensive misunderstanding of the way the Law of Attraction works. There's absolutely nothing you've to do, or actually is able to do making the Law of Attraction succeed. Just like there's absolutely nothing you've to accomplish and could do to earn gravity work. It simply works. That is why it is known as a law.

You create the own truth of yours. Most of it. All of the time. You cannot help it. You are a lean, mean, making machine. Anything you see around you, each individual in the life of yours, all in the truth of yours, can there be in reaction to the vibration you provide. There is absolutely nothing you've to do to make the process work, neither can you end it. That is the reason no one is able to claim that "it is not working for you." It cannot NOT do the job for you.

The issue arises when individuals are producing by default, which usually brings them things they do not truly want, rather than creating deliberately. Your role is remembering the way to create consciously, to recall just how effective you are. That is it. And it is not meant to be work that is challenging. It is claimed to be fun. In case you are not having fun, THEN you are doing it wrong.

Myth #6 - Thoughts are not safe. You've to manage every thought you believe.

The Myth: "You must manage every thought you believe. In case you believe a' negative' notion, or have a fear of food, you immediately produce that. So view every thought you think!"

The Myth Debunked: While it is accurate that every idea has the capability for creating, you will find 2 huge reasons you do not need to be fearful of the feelings of yours.

For starters, a small concept does not have all that much energy. The energy comes from thinking similar notion again and again, until it is a belief. The more you believe a thought and feel it, the much more it impacts the vibration of yours and it's this particular vibration which draws in the manifestations of yours. The Law of Attraction responds to the vibration of yours, not the words you have said or even concept (although discover that your feelings and words are able to change your vibration).

Second, we've this incredible thing called time. There's a time buffer between providing a vibration and getting a manifestation. Even though a lot of us usually curse this moment buffer in our impatience to get the stuff we want, it's extremely helpful. Things do not occur right away for a reason. You've time to notice in case you are harboring some conflicting beliefs or perhaps are offering a vibration which does not actually serve you.

For instance, in case you are traveling across the street and also have a random concept "I hope I do not enter an accident", you could possibly remember reading someplace that the Universe as well as your subconscious do not realize negative statements, and also you only put "I hope I enter an accident" available. So, of course you would better suck that thought back in, otherwise you will have a crash. Wrong. If you've the consideration "I anticipation I do not get in an accident" though you do not harbor an underlying perception that driving is unsafe and there is an extremely good possibility that you will get in a crash, your vibration isn't likely to actually start matching you up with an accident. If the fundamental idea of yours is "I am safe", you will be healthy.

If, nonetheless, you do harbor such a perception, created by many, a lot of ideas about just how you are a target, just how simple it's getting into crashes, the way in which driving is unsafe, reading through a lot of news stories about the way folks enter crashes all of the time, discussing those accounts, etc., that a small consideration just granted you a sign that you've an underlying belief. Do you feel these thoughts easily and often? You then may wish to do a thing about that (or maybe buckle up). The issue is, that although your ideas help you to develop the vibration of yours, and that produces the truth of yours, it's the vibration behind the thought you've to give consideration to. A random thought meaning absolutely nothing to you is not likely to produce a thing. But a notion that you believe and feel again and again, a notion you offer plenty of attention to, will change the vibration of yours and that will develop.

Myth #7 - The Law of Attraction simply teaches selfishness

The Myth: "The Law of Attraction shows individuals to concentrate on themselves and the way they feel, before concentrating on others. This's selfish, and that is awful. We've a duty being selfless."

The Myth Debunked: The perception and this myth that we should be selfless, have caused much more burnout among individuals with intentions that are great than anything else.

The Law of Attraction does show selfishness. But selfishness has become a very bad rap. There is a big difference between strolling over systems to obtain everything you would like, and that is what lots of people consider when they notice the term "selfish", moreover not allowing other people and circumstances to determine the happiness of yours. Giving of yourself with absolutely no regard to the way you think until there is nothing left though a clear husk, is neither virtuous or necessary. The choices are not only between being a self sacrificing saint or maybe a complete bastard.

The selfishness which the Law of Attraction shows, is the type that permits a mom with 3 children that are small to identify when she is becoming overwhelmed, plus offer herself permission to shoot a warm bath and then charge the batteries of her, with no feeling guilty about it. She comes back again refreshed and in a much better mood. Do you feel this will harm or even benefit her kids? In case we maintain ourselves (physically, mentally AND spiritually), we've a great deal more to offer others. In case we concentrate on our personal pleasure, we are able to uplift others, and genuinely assist them, rather than commiserating with them in the misery of theirs and just supporting them in their becoming wedged in that vibration.

Find more information Visit here 

[allenmendezsr]

How To Build A Treehouse

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/how-to-build-a-treehouse/

How To Build A Treehouse

 Buy Now

     …Now You Too Can Have A Tree House Plan To Make A Safe, Weather Resistant, Neighbour Envying Tree House That All Great Parents Deserve To Build For Their Little Terrors.

I have been making tree houses since I was very small. My dad loved to help me, and he created some life long memories that I will cherish forever.

Buying a ready-built tree house doesn’t have the same effect.. and it costs a heck of a lot more too.

Today I’d like to show you how you can have a treehouse plan to build a safe, affordable, all weather tree house that lasts for years… and in as little as one weekend.

No more safety risks, no more disappointed kids and no more being ripped off by toy manufacturers.

And that’s important, because…

Building A Tree House Means More Than Just

A Hideout Den For Your Kids!

  Looking back, I realize that it wasn’t the tree houses that made me happy. It was the quality time I spent with my dad.

And it was the pride and sense of satisfaction too.

You see, every time I played in the tree house, I would tell my friends that me and my dad built it from scratch.

They would drop their jaws and tell me how cool my dad was… some said their dads wouldn’t even give them 10 minutes with a football or baseball.

My dad was proud, and he knew what these simple things in life meant to me and our relationship.

I’m sure you are the same with your kids, right? After all, that is why you are here isn’t it?

If so, I applaud you, because these days, so many people think good parenting simply means buying them the latest computer games, or a TV for their room.

Many of these kids who go off the rails are also the ones with a poor relationship with their parents.

That’s why you are different, and why I congratulate you on deciding to actually put in the effort to raise your children properly.

And here is another kickback for you…

You get a bit more peace and quiet around the house when your kids are tucked away in the tree house all summer!

However, Building A Tree House Can Cause Tears And Tantrums Too…

I will be totally honest with you, the first few tree houses we tried to build actually ended up as a collapsed pile of wood in the back yard.

Then there were some emergency tree operations where my dad had to saw branches off, just so we could get my younger brother out before bedtime.

It’s funny looking back, but at the time our “slapdash” tree houses could have caused many arguments, cuts and injuries and caused us to get stuck or fall from a height and seriously risk our lives.

I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s very possible when you think about it.

But my dad was smart and very protective. That’s why he stepped in and showed us how to build a tree house that would stand the test of time and keep us warm, dry and safe in any season.

I went on to build many in the years that followed, and some were more tree castles than houses. Fast forward many years and I now have children of my own, and when they wanted a tree house it was my time to shine again.

What I discovered along the way, is that…

Not All Tree Houses Are Created Equal!

Each project is different. Sometimes you’ll need to work out whether the tree house needs ground support, or if it will be stable on a certain type of tree, or which materials to use for different styles and sizes…

…and let’s face it, the last thing you want is to put your child’s safety at risk, right?

That’s why many people visit this website for the detailed treehouse plans I have available for you today.

You see, the sheer pleasure I get from building tree houses both as a child and parent has made me want to share that with other proud parents like yourself.

And when I remembered how improper instruction nearly resulted in my brother getting seriously injured, I knew that my treehouse plans would surely help other parents like you.

So keep reading, because I’m going to offer you all of the resources, steps and plans you need to create a safe tree house that lasts all year round.

You’re about to get everything you need all in one easy resource… from the type of house to build, through to the tools and assembly.

Step by step, detail by detail.

Seriously, I’ve got it all covered so you can avoid the boring research and finally get started in that fun project to make your kids – and yourself – proud and happy.

Better still, I’m also going to show you how you can build an award winning tree house in as little as one weekend!

Ready? Great; so let’s get started...

How Good Parents Build Solid Tree Houses…

The principles are simple…

There are three main components to building a tree house: the foundation, the posts and the rest of the structure.

The foundation and posts keep the tree house functional and safe, and the rest of the structure is where you can really turn the tree house into an amazing looking den for your kids.

When you get these three elements working together properly, you will have a truly safe, long lasting and visually stunning tree house that your kids will adore.

Now here is the overview…

Step 1. Picking a suitable tree

It is important that if the tree is going to be supporting the entire house, that it is sturdy. If not, this can lead to major accidents and tricky building conditions.

So a sturdy tree is a must, but you’ll also need posts.

The tree will often act as the main supporting leg of the house, but posts make the tree house truly secure and safe.

We’ll use posts as legs to create a basic structure, so that the tree acts as only one leg supporting the house. Alternatively, when using posts you can have the tree go through the middle of the tree house for a really cool “look out tower” effect.

Step 2. Setting the foundation

This is where blueprints or sound, tested treehouse plans are very useful. The foundation of the actual house can be built in many ways, some much safer than others.

It depends on what materials you choose, and the size of your tree house of course.

A simple design would involve laying flat boards across the posts that you’ve installed and then simply nailing them all together.

Step 3. Getting creative

Now that you have the framework in place, you can design the actual tree house in many creative ways. But before you do, here’s a tip: ask your kids first!

You want your kids to be involved, and to actually like the tree house itself. Otherwise, you’ll be wasting your time.

The great thing is, once you have the core foundation and support structure, anything goes really. Obviously you will need to make sure any additional features and design elements are sturdy and can hold the weight.

Remember, there will likely be several kids in the house at any one time, so don’t just base your plans on a single child’s weight.

There are many different designs that are proven to be popular with kids, such as the open air model which allows your kids to be visible and able to get out in an emergency, without being completely enclosed and boxed in.

The more you can incorporate the tree and surrounding environment, the better. After all, the whole point of building a tree house is that your kids remember they are in a tree when they are actually inside it!

So that’s the basic principles, but there’s one more question…

What Could Go Wrong?

First of all, these are only the basics. There are many fine details involved for maximum safety, and to be able to build it properly first time around.

Furthermore, there’s the safety risks…

As with any DIY task or home based activity, there’s always a safety risk. When a tree house is built incorrectly, this risk is huge.

All it takes is a rough nail or a loose plank and it could spell a hospital trip and a ruined summer for your kids.

And that’s before we mention the risk of a side collapsing and a young child falling 10ft to the ground.

I don’t say these things to scare you or put you off, but to make sure you follow plans and guidelines which are quite literally, as safe as houses.

It’s really not hard to build a solid, safe and great looking tree house with the right guidelines and tools. It won’t cost you a fortune and you probably have all the basic DIY tools you need to do it right now.

The one thing you’re missing is the proven treehouse plans to actually take that idea and turn it into a dream tree house that your kids will remember and enjoy for years to come.

Today, I’d like to give you that missing blueprint so you can have your new tree house built in as little as one weekend, from scratch…

Your Complete Guide To Building A Safe,

Unique And Brand New Tree House From Scratch!

Here’s a guide for building any kind of tree house your kids can dream of (within reason!) and it doesn’t take a DIY expert or professional craftsman to get the job done properly either.

This tree house building manual walks you through all of the vital steps, making sure you build a tree house that is not just safe and durable, but also looks amazing too.

So Let’s Get A Little More Specific. Here’s What I’ll Be Sharing With You In More Detail:

Preparation: How to get everything you need and be able to finish the tree house in record time, even if you failed woodwork at school

Preparation: How to get your kids involved, and make your life easier

Preparation: My tricks for picking the perfect tree for both safety and minimal cost (tip – don’t just pick the one your kids tell you to… it could cost you a hefty price and a lot of risk)

Tools and Materials: The 10 essential tools you will need to complete the job

Tools and Materials: The 6 additional tools that seriously cut down your build time, and save you a lot of blood, sweat and tears

Tools and Materials: Why you should never get your materials from a local store, and where to get cheap materials locally instead

Tools and Materials:  How much wood do you need for different tree types and sizes? This section reveals all

Tools and Materials: How thick should your rope be? I’ll give you the exact specifications based on experience, minimal cost, safety and longevity

Joints: The most common joint used in tree houses, including a diagram of how it is put together

Joints: How to assemble the floors and walls, using different joints… and how each joint is created and finished (including diagrams)

Joints: Two joints that are used to fix cross beams, including figures and diagrams for you to follow 

Joints: How to make each area of the tree house 100% stable for life, using a range of joints and fittings that will never come loose (including drawings and diagrams)

AND THERE’S MORE…

Planning: A list of danger signs and check points you must look for on your chosen tree… to make sure it doesn’t give you a nasty surprise during – or after the house is built

Design: Supporting legs or full tree support? The wrong choice could spell accidents, damage and wasted time

Design: The one aspect of design that most people forget about… and it totally ruins the tree house every time. It’s easy to factor in once you know what it is!

Design: How high up the tree should your tree house sit? Too high and you’re risking lives… too low and you’re gonna see some disappointed faces. Use this simple formula to work out the optimal height

Design: Step by step, how to draw up your plan from start to finish… without getting lost or confused, and without the measurements going wrong when it comes to building time

Safety: My hands free formula for testing the weight capability of different size tree houses, so your kids will always be safe

Safety: How to select a proper safety harness, and where to get free professional advice on buying the right one

Safety: How to get top quality safety googles for as little as $5, and why it’s so important to have them

Safety: The potentially lethal danger of working with Plywood, and how to avoid it safely

AND STILL THERE’S MORE…

Building: Step by step, inch by inch, frame by frame, bolt by bolt… how to get your materials up into the tree, and how to assemble them all at height

Building: How to build in your supports whilst you are up in the tree, with step by step instructions and extremely precise detail

Building: Flooring, skirting, walls, roof… every single detail for assembling the final tree house step by step

Finishing touches: How to build a solid and safe ladder, and attach it to the tree and tree house

Finishing touches: How to stop your Plywood from warping over time using ______

Finishing touches:  A full guide to painting the inside and outside of your new tree house

Finishing touches: The materials I recommend, along with the ones I strongly avoid, when padding out the decor

And really, there’s still just so much more inside… including dozens of tricks, tips, shortcuts, resources and ways to save money and time in the process.

And in case you were wondering, here is…

                                   Why It’s So Easy And Quick  

(And Why This Guide Works So Well…)

You will find this guide effective because…

It is easy to follow

It breaks things down into bite-size chunks

It gives you plenty of options depending on your situation

It is packed with low cost suggestions and alternatives

It can show you how to build a tree house in just a few days, not months!

It comes with visual diagrams and examples

It covers every detail… so your house is functional and looks great

It will save you a lot of time

It will save you a lot of money

You can get started today, without any previous skills

You already have most of the required tools in your garage or shed

Which means…

Finally You Will Be Able To:

Give your kids a great gift that they will enjoy and remember for years

Spend quality time and create life long memories with your kids

Allow your kids to have their own space and time

Get yourself some peace and quiet once in a while!

Teach your kids practical skills

Encourage your kids to have an added sense of ownership and responsibility

When you put it all together, it’s safe to say…

No Other Method, Solution Or Service Comes Close To This.

Here’s Why…

First of all, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to find treehouse plans and step by step instructions in one single place before. It never happens.

That’s why everything I have learned was done through my own trial and error as a result.

Although it’s fun for me, I’m not sure every parent wants to spend months labouring away and spending a fortune on wasted materials and time building a crooked, unsafe or miserable looking tree house.

Nor do they want to spend days going back and forth on the internet trying to piece information together… which sometimes happens to be incorrect or dangerous information too.

These are just some of the reasons why I decided to create this guide in the first place… because I knew there would be other people like me who are in the same position as I was…

… wanting to know how to get started the right way, and quickly bypass the steep learning curve that other people have to suffer.

Plus, I’m pretty sure most parents are like me… and want to keep the cost down at all times. That’s why I’ve included tons of tips for getting cheap materials that most people overlook, but are just as good as the expensive stuff.

And here’s where I believe this guide stands out even more, because...

Unlike Other Advice Out There, You…

Do NOT need to risk any money upfront

Do NOT need to risk spending money on things you don’t need

Do NOT need to risk your health and safety

So there’s one last question for you…

What Price Would You Put On Those Lifelong Memories And The Newly Found Respect For You?

As I said earlier, building a tree house isn’t just about a play den for your kids. It’s way more than that to them, and to you.

Just think, you’ll be giving them endless hours of fun, a sense of responsibility and ownership, giving you peace and quiet, and creating lasting memories along the way.

Your kids will never forget the time you spent building this tree house for them, and one day they will want to do the same for their kids too.

You’re not like other parents who dump their kids in a poky room and let them play computer games all day and night… are you?

Of course not! You know how important it is to get your kids playing outside, with other kids… and getting respect from their school mates.

Your kids will respect and love you even more for that… even though it’s just a small gesture.

And let’s not forget the sense of achievement you will be getting too… after all, it’s an amazing feeling to stand back and look at your labour of love.

With this guide, I can help you achieve this little project at a fraction of the cost that other people have to pay.

I’ll show you how to save money every step of the way, and I’ll show you how to build a tree house that lasts for many years… and in as little as a few days in some cases.

No more worrying about safety risks or being ripped off. No more disappointed kids who see their parents buying a ready built tree house that every other kid has got.

With all that in mind, wouldn’t you say its worth a little bit of spare pocket change to invest in my Ebook?

Of course it is! Right?

Well The Good News Is, With This Guide, You’ll Be Able To Get There Without Spending Hundreds…

…and without spending months wasting time on tree houses that fall apart or become a serious health and safety risk.

Here are the order instructions

To grab yourself a copy of ‘HOW TO BUILD A TREE HOUSE‘, there’s a ‘Buy Now’ button below. Once you’ve clicked that link, you’ll be taken to the order screen to make a secure payment.

You will then be sent to a ‘Thank You’ page with simple download instructions within seconds.

That means you can literally start reading today… no waiting for the postman for the next few days!

The material is available to read online or to download to your computer. So no matter what, you’ll always have a backup copy if you need it.

$27

(All you need is a credit card, no special Internet accounts or anything like that. And it’s totally secure.)

But despite the small investment, I’d like to make sure you are totally happy and protected, with this…

100% RISK FREE TRIAL!

“You Build The Best Darn Tree House Your Child Has Ever Laid Eyes On, Or You Pay NOTHING!”

Grab your copy today, and follow the simple steps I have created for you.

I’ll give you an entire 60 days to give it a fair shot. If you don’t like it, or can’t get going for whatever reason – or even for no reason at all – then simply shoot me a quick email and tell me you’re not paying for it.

I won’t ask you any weird questions or try to convince you to change your mind. You’ll pay nothing, and there will be no hard feelings.

I know this guarantee will be abused by the occasional person with no conscience, but it’s the only way I can prove to you that I really do stand behind my claims and this product.

I mean, think about it…

If this was a piece of junk, why would I offer such a solid guarantee? There’s only one reason I’m offering this risk free trial…

… because I know you’ll love it and I wouldn’t be able to buy it back off you at twice the price!

But I’ll let YOU be the judge of that, once you get started.

So what are you waiting for? Isn’t it time you showed your kids what you are capable of, and how much you care?

If so, then…

Here’s How You Can Get Instant Access Today:

(All you need is a credit card, no special Internet accounts or anything like that. And it’s totally secure. )

You can be reading this e-book in as little as 5 minutes from now! This is an electronic book (e-book) that can be downloaded to your computer in a flash! Produced in .pdf format and available for instant download. Delivery time will vary depending on the type and quality of your computer equipment and internet connection.

Lots Of Good Wishes And Hours of Fun

PS – I know how much it means to give your children such an amazing gift. It tells them more about your love than any pre-made, overpriced tree house ever could.

I also know that many parents spend months – along with obscene amounts of money – trying to build a tree house that doesn’t feel safe, doesn’t look cool, and won’t last more than a month.

You don’t have to waste your time and money like they did, because this guide has everything you need to create a stunning, original, safe and affordable tree house that your kids will remember for ever.

And they won’t just remember the tree house as a great place to sulk or play, but also the time you spent with them when building it.

And with a 60 day risk free trial, you can simply give it a shot and see how quick and easy it is to build a safe, cool and unique tree house today.

Give it a test drive and see what happens. There’s no pressure and a whole bunch of reasons why it will pay off for you, your kids and your relationship with them.

And what better way to enjoy it, other than getting up to speed quickly, and without wasting thousands on over priced materials and shoddy designs?

Get started with your risk free 60 day trial today, and start showing your friends and family just how handy you can be (and how much of a loving parent you really are too!)

   $27.00

[tech-battery]

Lenovo ThinkPad X1 Yoga Gen 5 review: Minor improvements, but it's still among the best

One of my favorite laptops to review every year is the Lenovo ThinkPad X1 Yoga. I've actually written five reviews of six units, and there have only been four previous generations. Some of my favorites were the second-gen model with its OLED display, and the third-gen model with Dolby Vision; it was also the last to offer the Lift and Lock keyboard.

I didn't push too hard for this year's model, the Gen 5, because not much has changed. Lenovo refreshed the Gen 4 with Intel Comet Lake processors last summer, so the biggest change with Gen 5 is the availability of Comet Lake vPro processors. Also, reviewers didn't get to check out the Comet Lake Gen 4 models, since those were announced just a few days after the Whiskey Lake models were sent to us.

While not much has changed, that's pretty much OK. This is still one of the best convertibles on the market, a premium machine that you can always count on. It has one of the best keyboards, a beautiful screen, and a solid aluminum build.

Note that the regular price is $3,511, but ThinkPads are never regular price. They're always discounted in some way or another, and the unit that Lenovo sent me is $2,106.60 as configured.

Day one

Design

As far as design goes, the chassis hasn't changed since last year at all. In fact, last year debuted the first aluminum model, marking a major change in direction. It's clear that Lenovo takes very few risks with its ThinkPads at all, usually sticking to black colors and steering clear of metal chasses. This one is Iron Gray though, and it looks quite nice.

Exactly one thing changed about the design. For the second year in a row, there's new branding. The Gen 4 debuted a new black ThinkPad logo and a new X1 logo. Now, those two are being combined into a ThinkPad X1 logo that sits in the corner. It's literally the only way you can tell the Gen 5 from the Gen 4.

Lenovo does a great job with its aluminum business PCs, as they look clean and sophisticated, while remaining stylish. I noticed this when it debuted ThinkBook, its sort of anti-ThinkPad where it can try new things.

Another thing that hasn't changed is the selection of ports. There are two Thunderbolt 3 ports, either of which can be used to charge, power dual 4K displays, and so on. And yes, these are full Thunderbolt 3 ports, as many devices only use the base spec, which supports one 4K monitor.

Next to one of the USB Type-C ports is an Ethernet connector, which is really meant to be used with Lenovo's mechanical docks. Also on the left side is an HDMI 1.4 port, USB 3.2 Gen 1 Type-A, and a 3.5mm audio jack. The ports seem dated though, with an HDMI standard that doesn't support proper 4K (at 60Hz) and a USB port that supports 5Gbps, something that I'm getting tired of seeing in premium PCs. I assume that this will change next year, and that it wasn't done this year because this is mostly a spec bump.

On the right side, there's another USB 3.2 Gen 1 Type-A port, along with a power button. And of course, there's a pen garage, a staple of the product that's been there since the beginning.

The pen garage is my favorite feature of the ThinkPad X1 Yoga that Lenovo hasn't killed yet. If we were talking about features of all time, we'd be talking about the QHD OLED display that disappeared in Gen 3 and the Lift and Lock keyboard that disappeared in Gen 4, but I digress. A built in pen means that it's not getting in the way like it would if it was magnetically attached to the side, it's always charged, and it's always with you when you need it.

Display and audio

As always, this PC comes with a 14-inch display, and there are several configurations, none of which are QHD OLED. The newest is a Full HD panel with Privacy Guard, Lenovo's privacy screen that keeps people from looking over your shoulder. It's not on the config that the company sent me; in fact, Lenovo has never offered me a Privacy Guard display on a review unit, so I really can't vouch for it. HP has sent me several of its variants of Sure View display, and that's quite good, but there's a lot that goes into a good privacy display.

The other three options are FHD at 400 nits, QHD at 300 nits, and UHD at 500 nits with Dolby Vision HDR support. The one that Lenovo sent me is the UHD model. It always asks which one I prefer, and the answer doesn't change. I like pretty displays. Lenovo actually usually ends up sending me an FHD model as well, just for the better battery life, but I don't expect that that's coming this year, being such a minor refresh.

If you've been following along so far, then you know the bezels haven't changed at all, given that the footprint and display are the same size. The top bezel packs a webcam, an IR camera, and a ThinkShutter privacy guard, so you don't have to worry about putting tape over it.

Right above the keyboard are two up-firing speakers that are part of the Dolby Atmos audio system, which is frankly excellent. There are also two woofers on the bottom of the device, for great all-around sound. It's crystal clear and it gets loud too. I always like to think of just how bad the ThinkPad X1 Yoga Gen 2 - the first X1 Yoga that I reviewed and possibly my favorite all-time PC - was in terms of audio and how far it's come.

Keyboard and trackpad

One day I'm just going to accept that the Lift and Lock keyboard is gone. That day is not today. If you're unfamiliar, Lift and Lock was a frankly brilliant innovation of Lenovo's that made the keys retract into the keyboard when you folded the display back and used it as a tablet. It made it super comfortable to use. But obviously, there was a lot of mechanics that went into that, and that takes up space. When Lenovo shrunk the footprint with last year's model, it was time for my favorite feature of any convertible laptop ever to go away.

Now that I've got that over with, this is one of the best keyboards around. ThinkPads keyboards are the Cadillacs of keyboards; that's pretty well-known. They're accurate, they're comfortable, and you can count on them.

Obviously, they also include the TrackPoint, a relic from an age when trackpads on Windows PCs were terrible. Some people still love the TrackPoint though, and it's a trademark of ThinkPads. Yes, all ThinkPads have one of these little red nubs. I've tried to get used to it, but frankly, it's easy enough to ignore. If you really can't stand it, I'd urge you to check out Lenovo's ThinkBook lineup, which sheds a lot of these legacy parts.

The truth is that we don't need TrackPoints anymore because we have good trackpads now. Yes, I'm talking about Microsoft Precision trackpads. I do love the physical buttons though, and you can bet that if the TrackPoint went away, the buttons would too.

You'll also notice that it's got a fingerprint sensor to the right of the trackpad. Just like the convertible form factor itself and the Lift and Lock keyboard, Lenovo was the first with a fingerprint sensor. ThinkPads have been using fingerprint sensors long before Windows Hello was a thing.

Performance and battery life

The model that Lenovo sent me for review includes an Intel Core i7-10610U, a quad-core CPU with eight threads and a 15W TDP. It's the vPro variant of the Core i7-10510U. Interestingly, this is the highest-end CPU that's available on Lenovo's website right now, so you can't get the hexa-core Core i7-10710U or the vPro Core i7-10810U.

Performance is fine, and it's better than previous generations, obviously. Comet Lake is the only version of Intel's 10th-gen processors that comes with a vPro variant, so the 10nm Ice Lake is out of the question. One thing about Ice Lake, however, is that it has Iris Plus Graphics, so the CPU power is here with Comet Lake, but the graphics power really isn't. You can use it for some light Photoshop or something, but I wouldn't go too much further. This is a productivity machine.

For battery life, I got about five hours doing regular with with the battery slider at one notch above battery saver and brightness at 50%. To be clear, this would probably double if you got the FHD model, and that's why FHD models exist. They have a quarter of the pixels and can save a lot of power. QHD is a nice balance between the resolution of UHD and the power efficiency of FHD, but ever since Lenovo introduced UHD, it really hasn't been using premium QHD panels.

As you can see, the hexa-core Comet Lake Core i7 and the Ice Lake Core i7 both outperform the Core i7-10610U. And of course, AMD Ryzen 4000 blows away anything that Intel has in the 10th generation.

Conclusion

The Lenovo ThinkPad X1 Yoga is a winner for the same reason that it's always been a winner. It's a well-built machine that passes a dozen MIL-STD-810G tests, and it's reliable. It has one of the best keyboards around, excellent Dolby Atmos speakers, and a pretty display.

It's not a winner for any new reasons because very little has changed. The bezels aren't any smaller than they were last year, it's still 2.99 pounds, and so on. And of course, I'm mad that there's no QHD OLED option and no Lift and Lock keyboard.

It's not necessarily a bad thing that the design hasn't changed, and that the bezels haven't shrunk at all. This is a business PC, and for businesses, everything about the ThinkPad X1 Yoga is more practical than anything else. It's the best at what it does, which is providing a premium, reliable computing experience.

[paranoidwino]

the bilgesnipe in the room

Where the elephant doesn’t really describe the size of the situation, and you’d rather pretend the antlers aren’t poking you in the back. I made it, @bloomsoftly ! For you! Yaaay! Because you’re having a hard time and I wanted to make you smile! :D

Special thanks to @ragwitch who checked the whole thing (and enforced work hours... and helped me with blocks) and @hollyspacey that pretended she was Sam and filled me the conversation voids. You’re awesome! Read in on AO3: here.

“There’s another one.”

Darcy groaned. Loudly. This was the fourth time this week. And yes, she kind of got it, but man this was getting ridiculous.

She opened the doors of Baker Shelter and yep, sure enough, the sounds of battle were already creeping up from the streets and people were trying to find somewhere to hide.

“What is it today?” She sighed, “Doombots? A giant hamster?” she shook her head, “no matter. Open the doors. Close the big pen and let the people in.”

Amanda nodded and rushed to the pens.

It was becoming some sort of routine for the people to come and hide in the Shelter. Darcy hadn’t planned on this, it was a Dog sanctuary not some kind of catastrophe refuge, but when she finally realized it was time they prepped for such a situation, they noticed that many people actually had nowhere to go back to. And they couldn’t turn them away, they weren’t monsters.

And so Darcy had planned accordingly, and had turned to the only person that could have helped her in such a situation: JARVIS.

Nothing about Baker Shelter had been planned. It had been a spur of the moment thing. Like, this kind of thing? Never happened to people like her. Then again, not many could say they outlived not one but two alien invasions, three if you counted New York (and it did so count!).

And so, the day she purchased a Lottery ticket from the National Lottery website while staying at  Jane’s mother’s tiny dingy apartment, she… well, she had thought ‘well, we almost died, might as well invest 2£ in this.’ She had not really expected to win the Jackpot. She had not expected to become a millionaire overnight. But Holy Shit.

She was rich now. Filthy rich. Her student debts were no more, her problems with finding a job? Forget it, she’d feed her grandkids if she had her way. And Jane. Who needed grants anymore? She could have everything.

Jane hadn’t been enthused. Or rather, Jane hadn’t really listened, or noticed, at all. And it had probably been that - the absent minded, involuntary rejection - that had stung Darcy  badly enough to decide not to tell her best friend anything.

And the ‘lie’ grew and grew, until it was impossible for Darcy to tell Jane, well, anything. So when Stark had swooped in and offered them a place (and unlimited funding, that got Jane going real fast), she’d been worried her secret was no longer going to be one.

She was wrong. Tony had been very understanding of her predicament and agreed not to say anything.

The Shelter just… kinda happened as a consequence of his contaminating her and her bleeding heart. She had the money, the means, and now a powerful ally such as Tony Stark (and Jarvis!). Opening a shelter by remaining anonymous, buying off a ton of land and pretending to be a volunteer at her own creation had been stupidly easy. She was actually surprised she’d pulled it off.

But no matter.  In the end, Baker’s Dog Sanctuary for Third Strike Dogs had evolved into Baker Shelter, and it was one of the biggest non profit compounds in the city, comprised of the actual Dog Sanctuary building and greenery, and then proper human buildings that, in reality, hosted people in a much more permanent situation than they should. Not that Darcy cared much about it. These people needed it.

She armed herself with a trashcan lid and a wooden spoon she used for the dog food, checked that no canine was nearby (she was not going to spend the afternoon looking for poor terrorized creatures during a whatchamacallit attack) and loudly banged the spoon on the lid. “This way!” She shouted.

The running crowd didn’t need to be told twice. They poured into the buildings and followed the lights into the underground panic rooms she’d insisted they install after the first attacks (if New York had more of these? Yeah, they’d solve so many problems instead of sending people down to the subway stations). They barricaded themselves in and waited for the alarms to go off at any time. The booms and screams from upstairs were deafening despite being so far away.

As soon as the sirens stopped blaring, the poor civilians tentatively poked their heads around, ready to get back to their lives.

And as per usual, the Avengers dealt with the situation within a couple of hours and that left, well, everyone else cleaning up.

No, that wasn’t fair, Tony and his very government friendly cleaning crew did a lot to remove the big stuff. But in the end, apart from paying damages, people literally had to pick up the ruins of their houses and start anew. This time,after a couple of hours of these bouncing magical watermelons (which were a thing!), 35 people had lost their homes for the foreseeable future. Okay. Okay. She had this.

“Everyone, please listen up.” She tried to look imposing, but since vertically challenged people were usually invisible from afar, she had to stand on a chair to become the centre of attention. If only it worked with superheroes or science!bros as well. “For those of you who can’t go home, there’s temporary apartments in the compound, you just need to register at the Emergency desk. Please don’t occupy rooms if you have your house in habitable conditions. We’re trying to help, help us help you!” She recited by heart with a droning voice. Sounding hardly interested and not very impressive? Check.

The crowd dispersed, and Darcy congratulated herself for another good job. Hopefully this situation would solve itself soon. They were almost out of room and she didn’t want to start turning people away.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this city.” Mumbled Alan from behind the desk at the makeshift reception. “But seriously, this is like the sixth attack in a fortnight.”

Darcy nodded. “I just hope this is the last time.”

***

It wasn’t.

In fact, it took three more attacks on the population for the ‘real Mastermind’ to come forward and another for the Avengers to finally capture them (Darcy suspected it was a man, but it was seriously hard with the costumes and all that...so). That didn’t stop her from complaining, that day at the Tower.

“Toh-neeeey,” she wailed exaggeratedly walking into his lab, “what is wrong with this city lately? Huh? We’re filled to the brim. Filled. Us! We’re like, the biggest compound in New York! We can’t keep up like this.” No answer.

Tony was deeply focused at his workstation, the soldering iron in his hands.

“Hey, J?” she asked then.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?” JARVIS promptly answered her. J was the absolute best. She should start thinking about adoption.

“Is Tony doing something very dangerous that will explode if I distract him?”

“I don’t think so, Miss Lewis, though may I suggest waiting until Sir is done with the soldering iron?”

She nodded, “got it.” As soon as Tony put down the instrument, she put two fingers at the corners of her mouth and whistled. Loudly.

Tony yelped. “Wha-! Shortstack!” He looked around, as if checking no one was there to witness his unmanly (girlish) scream. “What’s up?”

“We’re out of space. Again.” She sighed. “I’m seriously considering digging under the Subway. Jarvis, what are the chances of me getting away with creating an underground society?”

“The chances of creating a safe and functional secret underground society are extremely small, Miss Lewis.”

Tch. “I knew it.” She deflated on top of Tony’s empty table. “We need more space, more people, this is such a mess, Tony. Like, it was meant to be a tiny dog shelter, not a fully functioning people housing, society rehab center. How did it escalate so quickly?”

“...I blame your bleeding heart.” deadpanned Tony, then held out his hand expectantly. “Give me your phone.”

Her knee jerk reaction was to take a step back and her hand flew instinctively to her phone in her purse. “No?”

He made an impatient gesture with his hand, “Come on, DoubleD, give me some credit here.”

“Yeah, no.” She argued back, “What do you want to do to him?”

“Nothing terrible, I promise. Now gimme.”

Suspiciously, she handed him her phone. He didn’t take it. They stood staring at the phone in her hand for a few seconds. “...Tony?”

“I don’t like to be handed things. Put it on the desk and come back in an hour or so.” Why you!

***

One hour later her phone was laying on the desk. She was almost afraid it would explode in her hands.

“Okay… I’m almost scared to ask, Tony.”

“You wound me, Shorty, wound me!” He exclaimed dramatically. “But no, really, it should be okay.”

She opened her phone hesitantly.

“Good Evening, Miss Lewis, I’m FRIDAY.”

Her phone had an AI. “You… you got me an AI.” She said dumbfounded.

“Well, no.” He defended, “It’s… it’s not like Jarvis, okay? It’s a tiny AI. She can help you vet people and order the stuff you need and book appointments and staff and… why are your eyes wet Shorty?! You said you needed help!”

She had no words, so she shook her head and despite the grease stains on his shirt, she still hugged him (and was she glad there was no arc reactor on his chest anymore). “Thank you, thank you.”

“Yes, yes,” he said awkwardly. “Okay, remove yourself. Now.” He wasn’t really fighting her though.

***

FRIDAY was much more than Tony had given her credit for (he’d been downplaying her abilities, the smug genius!).

First, she was as quick as JARVIS when compiling data and extrapolating from the results.

Second, once Tony taught her how to access the computers inside the facilities, she’d been the source of invaluable help and information.

She was good enough not to spy into the private homes, but she did check traffic from and to illegal sites. That was fair.

Of course, not even FRIDAY the ‘almost-AI’ could have prepared her for what happened when the houses destroyed by the Doombots were finally habitable again and they needed to empty the temporary ones.

“Darcy?” Billy, a lanky, 30 years old volunteer that was responsible for the Monday shift, started. “We have problems in relocating some of the people?”

Darcy sighed. Of course. It wasn’t the first time they happened to host the homeless, or people that couldn’t go back to their homes. “Okay, we have space for them right?”

“Uhm, yeah…” Billy didn’t sound convinced. “But this one doesn’t even have an ID… I mean, we can’t check without a name, right?”

That was slightly more unusual. How had he entered without giving reception his name? “Okay, let me check, uhm?”

Billy’s face morphed into a relieved grin. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Sweet Celestia you owe me, Billy. You owe me all the money and the favours. All of it.

Dressed in a too big jacket and a baseball cap, in one of her temporary apartments awkwardly stood the Winter Soldier.

***

Okay. Okay. This is cool. You’ve done this with scared animals and stray dogs, this is no different.

Apart from the whole… 200 pounds of murdery ex-POW with a metal arm, sure. Oh God.

Psyching herself up wasn’t working.

What would anyone with a lick of sense do in this situation?

Call Tony. The answer was literally right there. She was one phone call away to solve the problem and probably reunite History’s greatest team. Because that man was Bucky Barnes.  Even if she hadn’t been bombarded with historical pictures of the Howling Commandos since she started school (and if you didn’t know about the Howling Commandos what kind of patriot were you?), and even if you missed all of those memos and somehow forgot what James Buchanan Barnes looked like, the glinting of the metal arm was a dead giveaway.

But.

She did also remember how Bucky had not looked for Steve. In fact, how he’d been so extremely careful not to be found at all by his oldest friend, and how she’d heard Sam say that they needed to respect his need of privacy and time.

And yeah, having hosted more than a dozen scared women in her compound, Darcy had seen first hand the effects of ‘too much love’ and how quickly it devolved into ‘obsession’. If James Buchanan Barnes didn’t want to go to Steve, she had no right to force him into meeting Steve.

That didn’t really solve her problem, though.  

James Barnes hadn’t really moved throughout her inner monologue, but his eyes had narrowed and his posture had tensed minutely. She could relate. It didn’t take a genius to understand he’d been recognized, and he was probably debating if one casualty was worth his anonymity.

Props for not having killed her the first second. And bonus points because he was being very polite, what with waiting and not trying to reach for the cutlery or yeah, showing any kind of reaction that wasn’t the resigned puppy look she was on the receiving end of. Come ooon.

Three seconds into the stare, Darcy knew James Buchanan knew exactly how his handsome looks and that stare worked with the ladies, because they way he could keep it going was extremely artificial. But eh.

“I need your name, dude, if you’re staying here.” She sighed resignedly. He perked up. “And you’re not freeloading, either. I know you can work. I’m not raising the alarm, if you help around, yeah?”

“The alarm?” He asked, feigning ignorance

She nodded quickly. “Yep. You have a metal arm, dude. I mean, it’s none of my business, and I respect your space and all that, but you are a public figure, you know. There’s even a ‘wanted dead or alive’ sign somewhere, I’m sure.” She joked, and was pleased when he snorted.

“Okay, for the record?” She said when he relaxed. “I did tell you that Steve misses you very much and he’d love to have you back. Okay, my job’s done. What’s your name dude?”

He fidgeted for a while, and then tried, “...Jack?”

“Ooookay, …’Jack’” she air-quoted, “you need new clothes, but we need to repaint the nursery in the other building, so keep those for tomorrow.”

“You’re serious.” He was surprised. “You’ll host me for labour.”

She nodded. “Yep. Told you, it’s none of my business. But I did try to convince you to go back to Steve and was very disappointed when you said no, okay?”

He smiled, and it made him look at least five years younger. “Okay.”

***

Jack Robins, the people at Baker Shelter found out, was an extremely hard worker.

He didn’t mind doing the heavy lifting, which he did with ease, and didn’t care about getting dirty chasing the dogs or repainting the buildings. He wasn’t very outgoing, but he was polite and understanding.

He’d rapidly become the kids favourite, too.

If one overlooked the long sleeves and the gloved fingers, Jack was a perfectly normal, great guy with a good heart.

Darcy was pleased their arrangement was working so well.

After a few weeks, she could almost forget about the brainwashed murdery thing (notion quickly squashed the moment an entitled asshole of one of the girls had marched into the Shelter. Bucky slash Jack had excellent protective instincts and a mean right hook. Not even the police had anything to say).

After a couple of months, she could forget entirely about the whole affair. She wasn’t making much progress on the ‘Steve’ front, and while that was fine, she couldn’t not worry about the fact that ‘Bucky’ may never really be coming back.

These worries were assuaged by the fact that they were now adding another building, and there was too much to do to think about anything else.

Darcy’s days started to become very hectic. Between juggling Jane and Tony (and sometimes Bruce) and running the Shelter, and despite FRIDAY’s amazing job, she had hardly any spare time left.

And so, when FRIDAY told her that Steve and Sam were back from another unsuccessful expedition, she didn’t even register in her mind that this was the moment to worry a bit more about concealing what she was doing in her ‘spare time’.

“Hey, Darcy!” Sam was always the first to greet her, since Steve sometimes needed to cool off or just sigh and mope around a bit. Frankly, it was a relief; Darcy always felt a bit guilty whenever he talked about ‘his Buck’.

“Hey, Sam!” She waved back. It was impossible not to smile with him around, despite her tiredness. “Are you okay?” He asked, after taking a good look at her. “You look… well, I don’t know how to say it politely?”

“...Like a zombie?” She supplied and he winced. “Yeah I know, don’t worry, no offense and all that. There’s just been a lot to do. Yeah.” She yawned.

Sam frowned and looked around, and Darcy could see the wheels turning. No Jane in sight, Bruce nowhere to be seen, Tony quietly poking Dum-E in a corner… it didn’t look like the war camp she was coming from. “What-”

She waved him off. “No no, it’s not that. It’s the work at the Shelter.” She added without thinking. What. Oh God she must be more tired than she thought. She almost choked and slapped her hand on her mouth, but restrained. Okay, play it cool.

“So, uhm, I mean...”

“Miss Lewis?” FRIDAY asked from her phone.

Sam’s eyebrows raised another notch.

“There seems to be some kind of problem at the Baker Sanctuary.” Of course there was. Like, no rest for the wicked, yeah?

She sighed. She had no time to distract Sam and FRIDAY wouldn’t warn her for nothing.

“Sorry, Sam, I need to go… just…” She focused on Tony in the corner. “Ask Tony, yeah? Bye!”

She barely heard Tony’s sputtering as she trotted out of the Tower.

***

Talking to Tony Stark had reassured Sam Wilson as much as hearing the latest news about the Election rallies. Read, not at all.

He believed Stark when he said that Darcy was okay, and that if she wasn’t she had a panic button, an AI in her phone and no less than three trackers on her person (Yes Birdman, she knows about them and she’s not stupid enough to complain considering the kind of spotlight people who work with Avengers get!), but he couldn’t help but worry about the dark circles under her eyes and the disheveled appearance.

So, as soon as Tony gave him the address of this Baker Shelter she was volunteering at in her spare time, after checking that Darcy had really preceded him by at least fifteen minutes, he made his way to the Sanctuary for Third Strike Dogs.

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

When Tony had said ‘Shelter’ he had expected some kind of tiny building with some pens, they were in the middle of New York after all, not… this. A huge compound of four buildings was not in the cards, was it?

But here it was, and in front of it a group of people in green T-Shirts or tank tops proclaiming ‘I support Baker, do you?’ barring access to the premises to what looked like the NYPD.

“Look, ma’am, we just-” The officer was stammering in front of a very pissed looking Darcy.

“You just nothing, agent. We didn’t do anything wrong. This place is a Safe Haven, this is legal. We have the papers!” She was almost shrieking, her hands balled into fists.

“We are not disputing the legality of this thing!” protested loudly the agent, “we just received a report of a missing woman and this was her last whereabout. Her husband is quite-”

“She’ll be pressing charges against him!” A redhead with glasses shouted from the line of volunteers and the others backed her up, tightening their ranks in front of the door.

“Look, agent,” Darcy tried with practised calm, “we understand you’re doing your job, but we cannot and will not give names of our guests. We can’t. Take it to your boss, take it to the Heads of Baker Shelter, but we volunteers are not letting you pass and violate the rights of these people!” She gestured to a lanky boy and a megaphone was thrust in her hand. “We’re not afraid of making ourselves heard, WE HAVE RIGHTS!”

A chorus of ‘We have rights’ was heard all around and Sam found himself chanting it as well, albeit with a very low voice. It was the kind of fight he could understand, the need to protect the weak and to not give in to the unjust demands. Cap would have approved too.

The police were clearly there because ordered, because they weren’t really trying to get any sort of information or to even pass across the group of people. It was a token attempt at best (one of the officers gave a thumbs up to the volunteers, Sam was sure the captain was going to overlook that as well). However, when the officers left, the volunteers almost slumped as one, clearly spent. They were massaging their foreheads and cheering each other very quietly.

“Okay, we have stuff to do, guys!” The redhead that had shouted before tried to say cheerily, and everyone left.

Sam scrambled to intercept Darcy before she entered the bowels of the giant building.

“Hey Darce!” She tensed, turned and, surprisingly, laughed nervously.

“Hi… Sam!” Her smile was tense as well, and alarms started going off in his head.

“What was that?”

“Oh!” Okay, that wasn’t the problem because she started talking a mile an hour, “That was the last attempt of entitled asshole number fifty-two, I think. They’re always trying to find ‘legal ways’ to get their ‘beloved’ back, right? Pity it doesn’t work here.” She nodded at herself, very satisfied.

He nodded back. “Thought this was a dog shelter, though.”

“It… was. And then… it wasn’t?” She winced. “Like, we started as a dog shelter but before we knew it we were taking in people running from Doombots whose houses were destroyed, and then women and men running from abusive partners, homeless people and shit. Now we’re a fully legal compound for Safe Haven and Shelter.” She seemed surprised such a thing had happened. He’d be surprised too, all things considered. It was certainly an impressive building that required a lot of people and attention...

“And that AI of yours helps you run things, yeah got it.”

She choked. “I… I’m a volunteer here, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She whispered harshly.

“Okay, okay, got you!” He raised his hands. “I think it’s cool. Honestly.”

They spent the next few moments in silence, watching the people bustling around with tools and wallpapers.

“Can you give me a tour?”

Darcy smiled widely. “Sure!”

***

They were walking around the new building when it happened.

And okay, Darcy should have seen it coming, she’d just hoped it wouldn’t be quite this soon.

But Sam stopped dead in his tracks and, following his gaze, Darcy’s stomach sank.

Bucky slash ‘Jack’ was passing by with two humongous paint cans that couldn’t possibly be moved around by a normal human being. Fuck.

Sam’s eyes sought out hers quickly and his mouth tried to work a few times. Was he paler? Oh God, he looked paler.

“Darcy… is that…?” Oh no. Nope.

“That’s Jack,” she said with a completely straight face.

"Jack."

"Yes. Jack," she replied with finality.

"The same Jack that once tried to murder me on a bridge?" he worked out after a few seconds.

"I don't know about that Jack, but this one has a sparkly Elsa on his arm. Did your Jack have it too?" The kids had drawn that one day, and it had stuck. Darcy found it deliciously ironic.

"...I don't think so. I got a pretty good look at it when he riPPED MY STEERING WHEEL OUT OF MY CAR."

"Then yeah, it's a totally different Jack. Why don't you help me with this and we let him do his job?"

He wasn’t convinced. “Darcy, that man, he’s-”

“A guest,” she said, slowly. “Jack Robins is a guest of the Baker Shelter. He lives here, works here and is legally registered here. Do you understand, Sam?” She kept her eyes fixed on him. “I understand where you’re coming from and your concerns, they’re noted, but Jack is one of us, now. He has the same rights as everyone else. He’s a hard worker, and he’s trying very hard. He’s great with the kids and kind to the other people. This is his second chance and you have no right to force him to do anything.”

Sam’s arms shot up at the first ‘trying very hard’. “Okay, okay, woah, girl. Calm down.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve worked at the VA for a while, Darcy, I’m not the judgy douche that wants to criticize you, okay? I just… how long has… Jack, been staying with you?”

“Five months.” She replied promptly.

“And, everything okay? Like, no accidents.. nothing?”

“No,” she stressed. “Look, Sam, I get it. I know that there will be setbacks, okay? But I trust him to know when it’s too much, I trust him to trust himself. Can you do that too? Without alerting Steve, possibly?”

Sam thought about it for a while, sometimes looking at the back of Jack, who was now wrestling the paint like a pro to decorate the interior of the building.

“I… yeah of course. But I’m coming over to check on him, frequently. And I still don’t like him.”

Darcy smiled, nodding easily, “I don’t expect you to like him, but that’s okay. Thanks Sam, you’re the best.”

“...You’re welcome. I just wish I didn’t have this feeling of ‘you sold yourself to the devil’ … you know?”

She laughed uneasily. He had no idea.

***

Steve’s wingman was there again.

Looking at him.

Staring at him.

At least it wasn’t the hateful or terrified look he was expecting.

Wilson, Sam, pararescue, didn’t particularly like him. That was cool, he didn’t like him either.

And he supposed he could understand, what with the whole ‘I tried to kill you’ shtick he’d pulled last year.

He wasn’t going to chicken out of his responsibilities on that one, despite the words of his therapist. Yes, it wasn’t his ‘his’ fault, but he could understand the other man’s reservations.  

It didn’t stop making his back itch every time his stare turned towards him, though.

“Are you quite done staring, wingman?” He snarked from the kitchen sink he was fixing.

“Nnope.” Sam drawled from the opposite side of the room. Bucky had no idea how, but Darcy had managed to rope him into mounting the shelves and the suspended cabinets. She was that kind of taskmaster, the boss-lady.

“Careful with those, kids will be in this room a lot.” He remarked.

Wilson cursed from behind him “Dude, I know. Ouch.”

Bucky snickered. “Did you just hammer your finger?”

“...No. Shut up.” Bucky’s lips twitched. Kids these days. “Get back to your sink, old man.” Sam grumbled.

“You okay here, boys?” Darcy poked her head from the other room, looking at them with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, Darcy,” they droned.

“Good, good. Hey, Jack, the sink screw’s loose.”

“..Wha?” But yeah, with a hissing sound the sink decided that this was an excellent moment to spit its whole contents on him.

Wilson’s braying was heard all over the compound.

Oh yes, he disliked him too.

***

“Hey, Darce!”

The voice was so unexpected in the silence of the room that Darcy dropped her needles and yarn on the floor. Their loud clattering was ominous.

“Crap.” Bucky whispered.

“Oh. My. God.” Darcy reached for her needles, but it was too late, she’d dropped at least one stitch.

“You… you... you made me drop a stitch. Oh my God you-” She couldn’t find the right words to express the pain at the idea of restarting from scratch. Or having to re-ladder them. Oh God.

“Sorry?” He looked contrite, but you could never tell with his puppy eyes. “In my defense, I had no idea you were doing… whatever you were knitting, doll, sorry.”

“It’s… I have no chances of actually murdering you, right?” She could always die trying…

He laughed. “No. You can always try, but that’s not happening.”

“Yeah thought so. I have a taser though?”

He winced. “Yeah no, let’s not test that. What were you making?”

She tried to smooth over her project and put it away very carefully (it was delicate stuff!). “It’s a sweater. Or at least, it will be?”

He nodded and probably contemplated looking at it, but one look at her made him rethink his position. He dropped his hand and sat on the sofa beside Darcy.

“Isn’t it a bit too warm for sweaters?”

“By the time I finish this, it’ll be December,” she grumbled, peeved. He chuckled softly. She hit him on the shoulder. He just chuckled harder.

“Sorry,” he said again.

She sighed. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Anyways, did you need something?”

“Mh? Oh yeah.” He stood up. “We’re done with the top floor, we need to move up to the attic.”

Whoa, that was fast! They’d started repainting it three days ago. She smiled happily and cheered “Nice, I’ll be right there. Seriously, you do as much as ten men would in the same amount of time. We’re glad to have you here.”

His face broke into a pleased smile, “I’m glad to be here, too.”

But then his face darkened a bit and she could see right through him. Steve.

“Uhm.. Buc-Jack… Do you, I mean… It’s been over five months since you’ve been here… Do you.. uhm, would you like to tell… Steeve?” She tried delicately, and tactfully. Seriously, this was not her forte

“No.” He said quickly. “I… I’m not… Not today. Maybe later...”

“Hey hey, it’s okay. No problem, dropped it. Like a hot potato,” she said quickly, “Speaking of potatoes, I’m hungry.”

She wasn’t going to push this, for today.

And she didn’t push tomorrow, and the day after. And then, it never seemed a good time.

***

Turns out, it’s ‘The American Way’ that creates ‘a good time’.

Or, for another wording, finds out the stupidest way it can to fuck with your life...

***

For a different reading: It didn’t take long for Steve to notice that Sam was hiding something, and that it was somehow related to the many afternoons he spent outside the Tower.

He’d almost believed Tony when he said it could be a girlfriend (or a lady friend), but carefully blank looks Sam was giving him every time had started to become suspicious.

Covert agent he was not, but he was certain he could find a way to follow Sam, if he wanted to.

So he wore his most nondescript jersey, a baseball cap and was ready to leave.

“Are you going somewhere, Captain Rogers?” JARVIS’s voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

“Oh. Yes, Jarvis, I’ll be back for dinner. I think.”

“So noted, Captain Rogers.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.” And then he pondered. “Say, Jarvis, do you know where Sam spends all of his time recently?”

“Certainly, sir.” The AI responded promptly. “Mr Sam Wilson spends his afternoons with Miss Lewis...” There was a girlfriend?! “...at the Baker Shelter for Third Strike animals, sir.”

Oh.

That was… nice.

He had not expected that. “Are they dating?” Not that it was any of his business, but now he was admittedly curious.

“Not to my knowledge, sir,” JARVIS said politely, “they’re fixing a new housing facility for women in need. It’s one of the activities of the Foundation, after all.” He seemed almost… proud of this. Could an AI be proud? Well, JARVIS certainly was.

“...Do you know where it is, Jarvis?”

“Certainly, sir. Take the third…”

***

This was certainly impressive.

The buildings formed a massive compound of tiny apartments and the central, big building that Steve was pretty sure was meant to be the actual Shelter.

He walked through the gates without a problem; in fact, no one seemed to care that Captain America was walking among them. He kind of liked it.

He hadn’t seen any dog yet, but it was pretty cloudy and he still had no idea where he was going. Well, not precisely, at least.

Of course all these thoughts flew out of the window when he got close to the building in construction at the far right corner of the compound.

Because laughing softly at some guy’s joke like he belonged there while hauling wooden boards, was his friend Bucky.

And it was like the air was sucked out of his lungs, and for a second he felt dizzy.

In that moment, Sam’s unwillingness to go out and search for Bucky made a lot more sense. Of course.

In the end, though, he didn't even care that Sam had hidden it from him, because Bucky was here. Bucky was right in front of him.

And by the way he’d dropped the boards he was hoisting on his shoulder, Bucky had seen him too.

Steve saw the exact moment in which Bucky contemplated running, and tensed, because there was no way they were doing that cat and mouse shtick of his in a populated area (Hydra bases were tasteless enough), but Bucky steeled himself and made his way towards him.

“Bucky.” He breathed.

“...Steve,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

That… didn’t sound like the correct question. Was there a script for this kind of situation? “I was looking for Sam, actually… Didn’t expect to find you here.”

Bucky shrugged, and Steve felt a pang of something in his chest. “Bucky, I’ve been looking for you for over a year. You- How-... How long have you been here?”

“...Six months…” Bucky didn’t really sound pleased to be interrogated.

“Six- Six months!?” Steve choked. He’d been looking for him all over God’s green Earth and he’d been living less than five minutes from the tower for six months?!

“Yes. Steve, I-”

Steve shook his head. “No, I… I’m sorry, Bucky, I should have been there for you, I should have looked for you… You’re my best pal and I left you behind, I’m so sorry.” He put his arms around his friend and hugged him, not caring of the dirty clothes. “There’s so much we need to catch up on.”

Bucky looked stricken. “Steve, that’s-”

Steve dropped his arms. “I know now things are different and-”

“Steve.” Steve stopped at the tone of Bucky’s voice. “I. I’m not coming with you.” What? Steve frowned. Bucky sighed. “I- I want to stay here. I didn’t come back to you, because I… I don’t want to fight again. You’ll always want to fight, you always did, punk. Gave me a few heart attacks back in the day. But… that’s it. I’m done fighting. I’m done with superheroes and supersoldiers and… I’m done. I… I’m just ‘Jack’ here, and it’s… I like it.”

Steve knew everything about his Bucky, upside down and front and backwards, and he was still shocked to hear that from his mouth. And then, he looked into his friend's eyes, and he realized that he was tired. And ready to start a new page. And if there was someone who deserved it, it was Bucky. "...Okay."

And he saw the relief in his friend’s eyes, and knew it had been the right thing to do.

“Hey, Jack!” A voice behind them made him turn around. It was Darcy, looking at her phone, “what’s taking you so long, you’re usually-Hiiiii Steve…” Her smiled turned forced. “Oh boy.”

***

Life went… surprisingly normal after that.

If you didn’t count the fact that Tony almost thought of a murderbot but was stopped by Bruce, the Avengers stormed a Sokovian base and found tortured kids (and Darcy appointed herself as caretaker there, because she didn’t believe any of them, except maaaybe Clint?, were able to take care of teenagers with their hero schedule), Bucky found himself a black dog he named Dodger and that ‘Captain America’ had become a fixture at the shelter (and that was great for keeping the ne'er do well far enough off), life was extremely boring.

It was almost Christmas and everyone was freezing their asses off. “What’s this?” Darcy turned to a curious Bucky, who was using his ungloved hand to poke at a fluffy package on the table.

“It’s yours. It’s the thing.” She tried to be cool about it, but she’d been debating whether or not to give it to him all day.

True to her words, it’d taken Darcy that long to finish her sweater.

It was a red, fluffy thing with a black and white dog knitted on it. “...Thanks?”

He didn’t really understand the reference, and Darcy probably got that, because, “It’s Baker.”

“...What?” Baker the shelter name?

“Uhm, long story short, Murderbot attacked us all in New Mexico and I saved that dog from wreckage, I named him Baker but I had to let him go. So.. uhm, yeah. That’s Baker.”

She smiled tentatively “It’s a … ‘one of us’ sorta thing, right? But I thought you’d appreciate something warmer than the T-Shirt…”

Oh.

Well, he’d have appreciated a gift from a pretty girl back in the day, and he’d have appreciated a gift from Darcy these days, but this had a whole different meaning.

“Thanks” He said, sincerely.

Her smile lit up the whole room.