#leighanne masters

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

  “This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel. 

  Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years. 

  You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear. 

  “I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.” 

  Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life. 

  “I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly. 

  One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most  beautiful girl, you know that right?”

  Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

  “..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

  His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him. 

  His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

  “You ready, baby?” 

  For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold. 

——

  Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck. 

  The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

   “high risk” 

“Possible death during childbirth” 

  He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly. 

  He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

  He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone. 

  Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson. 

  His mother. 

His child.

  It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

  What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath? 

  Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.  

  What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under. 

  His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell. 

  He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

  His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”. 

  His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep. 

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.” 

  Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver. 

  Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there. 

  Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

  When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered. 

  A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room. 

  “She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

  Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.” 

  He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

  Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.  

  “Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

�� “Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.” 

  Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

  He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child. 

  Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

  “No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

  “Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

  Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

  “That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

  Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

  “You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.” 

  The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains. 

  Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable. 

  Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition. 

  Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers. 

  “The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

  “…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.” 

  The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

  The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy. 

  You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land. 

  But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality. 

  Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face. 

  Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him. 

  You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him. 

  He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same? 

  The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever. 

  The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him. 

  —

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too. 

  “I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt. 

  Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.” 

  Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud. 

  The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself. 

  That was when the nightmares started. 

  —

  “She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults. 

  Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

  Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

  “So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

  Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.” 

  “Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

  Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

  His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity. 

  “Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.” 

  An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.” 

  He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting. 

  “Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

  “I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist. 

  No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes. 

  Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

  “No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

  Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand. 

  He’d take care of you just like he promised.

  Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

  —

  The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would. 

  After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

  Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain. 

  The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both. 

  And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day. 

  When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

  Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly. 

  A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?” 

  He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did. 

  An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

  His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm. 

  He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you. 

  The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night. 

  Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night. 

  And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours. 

  “You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around  to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.” 

  The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.” 

  You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror. 

  The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

  “My girl,” he promised. 

  The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again. 

  —

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?” 

  The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner. 

  A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

  Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.” 

  “You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip. 

  He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.” 

  “I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

  “She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.” 

  The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

  Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside. 

  He loved you, and you loved him. End of story. 

  Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration. 

  Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?” 

  Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could. 

  You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss. 

  An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.” 

  Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.” 

  Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.” 

  You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated. 

  — 

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in. 

  He was a saint. 

  He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you  as he pulled you deeper into him.

  Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately. 

  Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

  His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.” 

  You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?” 

  “Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.” 

  Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep. 

  But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed.  Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons. 

  The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life. 

  The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes. 

  “Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head. 

  You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes. 

  “We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.” 

  Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.” 

  The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

  The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips. 

  To hell and back. 

[insomniac-jay]

Some more DC: South girls but this time we're getting villainous 😈

Katarina Herrera | Barracuda: A former vigilante, Katarina turned to crime after she got an offer from Diamondback to be a muscle for her. Katarina's duties include protecting shipments, carrying out bounties, and protecting high ranking members including Diamondback herself.

Unlike the other members of the gang, Katarina's name doesn't come from a snake, rather a fish. The barracuda is known for its fearsome appearance and ferocious behavior, much like Katarina herself.

LeighAnne Rothwell | Whisp & Hortensia Jacobs | Haunt: Two of Hollow's four henchwomen.

LeighAnne is obsessed with vampires and wears fake teeth as a result. She's the bait during the robberies, often posing as a lost or distressed train passenger. Hollow lets her and the others escape when he gets caught by the police.

Hortensia is the master of the disguise and stylist. She'll often go in disguise as a train passenger, conductor, or server in the dining car. Horentisa escapes with the other girls when the police or heroes come.

@mayameanderings @biandbored

[myobmaya]

here's a peace offering <3

don't worry Leighanne this is all part of my master foot plan

ghala I’ve saved this for when I needed it and I’m so happy I did

also the star on the dog???

[alejandrocortez]

🎶🥀You can't touch the way I feel

There is no end to what I'd steal for you

With love we have no free will

We only get one heart to fill before it's through...🥀🎶-White Buffalo

#Cortez

#LeighanneMasters

#RDR2

#RDR2Online

[freebooksshowcase]

Frederica Vale is about to cause a scandal that will make her a target of the most dangerous spy network in England.

London, 1806. Fredrica “Freddie” Vale would do anything to protect her younger sister. When a dubious benefactor threatens Freddie’s family, he gives the plain girl a mission. To keep her sister safe, Freddie must steal a codebook from enemies of the British crown…

Tristan Graylocke has always benefitted from diminished expectations. As the duke’s younger brother, he can carouse at-will during high-society affairs. It also keeps anyone from suspecting him of espionage as he prepares to pass on the codebook…

When Tristan spots an enemy spy in the crowd, he’s not sure if the innocent girl is bad at her job… or a master of deception. But in this seductive game of cat and mouse, will achieving their mission keep them from falling in love?

Kissing the Enemy is the first book in a series of Regency romance novels with a dash of espionage. If you like simmering mysteries, character chemistry, and pulse-pounding action, then you’ll love this amorous adventure from USA Today bestselling author Leighann Dobbs and co-author Harmony Williams.

[kathrynkfuller9]

The IJL Spotlight Shines on Birmingham’s School of Jewellery Bursary

Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter celebrated by the international jewellery industry

THE IJL SPOTLIGHT SHINES ON BIRMINGHAM’S SCHOOL OF JEWELLERY BURSARY

[NEWS: Birmingham, 15 November 2018]: International Jewellery London (IJL), the UK’s leading trade event for the international jewellery industry, is sponsoring a prize (graduate award) for the Birmingham School of Jewellery for the next three years.

This prize is being launched after the successful Spotlight on Birmingham’s jewellery industry at IJL 2018. The Spotlight celebrated Birmingham’s thriving world class jewellery centre. It was opened by The Lord Mayor of Birmingham, Councillor Yvonne Mosquito, and it was supported by leading Jewellery Quarter businesses and institutions; Cookson Gold, Weston Beamor, the Assay Office and the Birmingham School of Jewellery.

Professor Stephen Bottomley, Head of School of Jewellery, said:

“The school of jewellery, Birmingham City University, is delighted to be working in close partnership with International Jewellery London following the amazing success of this years ‘Spotlight on Birmingham’. This new bursary will be awarded at the school Industry evening awards during the Summer degree show celebrations. The winner will be selected from an open call across the school and the shortlisted finalists will have their business proposal selected by an expert independent IJL panel. The IJL sponsorship and Kickstarter training will support a shining graduate from the school to progress in what will hopefully prove to be a bright career in the jewellery industry.”

The IJL Bursary is a bursary of £1,000 cash and other value added opportunities (circa £1,000) designed to prepare the graduate winner for success, plus expenses for travel and subsistence to attend the Kickstarter Networking event in London, ahead of IJL 2019.

Fotoulla Michael, Head Of Sales, International Jewellery London (IJL) said:

“IJL is proud to be supporting the next generation of jewellers coming from Birmingham and forge strong ongoing links between the show and the jewellery industry. Birmingham plays an essential role in the UK jewellery industry, complements those of London, Sheffield and Edinburgh among others. We saw at IJL in September that Birmingham’s jewellery industry exemplifies the forward-thinking technology combined with cutting-edge design and traditional and skilled craftsmanship demonstrate all that is great about our UK jewellery industry whose influence extends across the globe.”

Details of the IJL bursary:

Open to all eligible graduating students across all courses (studio and non-studio) at the Birmingham School of Jewellery, on the submission of a proposal on an agreed application form in advance of the June degree show

Applications to be viewed and selection made from each course made by staff teams to form a short list

IJL to judge award winner prior to school industry night day.

For more information visit

Spotlight on Birmingham at IJL 2018

The Spotlight on Birmingham at IJL 2018 was a collaboration of industry, education and commerce; from the Assay Office Birmingham to the manufacturers, designers, wholesalers and retailers and will be chance to showcase the city with 1000 trades role within the jewellery industry. Work from the Birmingham School of Jewellery will be on show to demonstrate the diversity of their talent and educational reach – from horology to 3D printed jewellery.It was supported by a seminar programme celebrating the past, present and future of the Birmingham Jewellery Quarter and its contribution to the global jewellery industry.

IJL was proud to welcome both old and new designers and businesses from Birmingham, a selection of which includes Fei Liu Fine Jewellery, Charlotte Lowe, Jewellery by Annamarie, Katie Stone, Daisy Grice, Charles Green, River Mounts, Domino, Weston Beamor, Clark Diamonds, Just Diamonds, Continental Jewellery, Hockley Mint, Assay office Birmingham, DWJ, R.E. Morrish, SMP Bullion & Diamonds and W J Sutton.

Additionally, during IJL, Cooksongold exhibited the future of jewellery production with their PRECIOUS M 080 system – the first Direct Precious Metal 3D Printing system designed exclusively for the jewellery, watch and precious metals industries, which is jointly optimised by Cooksongold and EOS GmbH (Electro Optical Systems).

IJL will return to Olympia, Kensington, from 1-3 September 2019 with an expanded events programme, and will showcase the latest ranges from over 550 high end, finished jewellery manufacturers and designers, and loose gemstones and retail services suppliers.

IJL is sponsored by the NAJ and supported by the GIA, Gem-A, The Houlden Group, The Company of Master Jewellers, The Responsible Jewellery Council, Euromonitor and CIBJO.

ENDS –

For media enquiries please contact Leighanne Murray, Midas PR, Leighanne.murray@midaspr.co.uk / 0207 361 7860

  from Trending Jewellery https://blog.jewellerylondon.com/the-ijl-spotlight-shines-on-birminghams-school-of-jewellery-bursary/

[asparklygentlemencollection-blog]

Test Bank for Mosbys Textbook for Nursing Assistants 8th Edition by Sorrentino

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With step-by-step instructions for over 100 nursing assistant procedures, Mosby’s Textbook for Nursing Assistants, 8th Edition makes it easy to master the skills you need to succeed as a nursing assistant. Known for its visual approach and comprehensive, easy-to-read coverage, this market-leading text emphasizes the importance of the patient or resident as a person, communication, safety, comfort, effective delegation, and teamwork and time management. This edition provides expanded content on the person’s rights and pressure ulcers. The updated companion CD includes three new procedures, an updated audio glossary, and more. Written by respected educator Sheila Sorrentino and expert co-author Leighann Remmert, Mosby’s Textbook for Nursing Assistants makes nurse assisting easy to learn.

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Test Bank for Mosbys Canadian Textbook for The Support Worker 3rd Edition by Sorrentino

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[igotthatfireapp-blog]

Operation BBQ Relief Introduces YETI® as an Official Sponsor

Sam Jones BBQ, Winterville, NC Sam Jones BBQ is rooted in the principles of traditional Eastern North Carolina BBQ. Coming from a long line of a rich barbecue family, Sam is proud of his barbecue and his barbecue heritage. Sam Jones BBQ is located in Eastern North Carolina right outside Greenville, NC in a small town in Winterville NC. I took my camera and my family to experience Sam Jones BBQ first hand and here are some of my favorite barbecue and grilling photos from the trip of The Wood Fire at Sam Jones BBQ in Winterville NC The Building of Sam Jones BBQ The Sign outside Sam Jones BBQ Barbecue Spare Ribs from Sam Jones BBQ in Winterville, NC Picture of BBQ at Sam Jones BBQ The Inside of Sam Jones BBQ In Winterville NC The outside building of Sam Jones BBQ in Winterville NC Sam Jones Pitmaster and Barbecue Lover Posted By: Richard Wachtel Published: May 25, 2017 Follow Grilling With Rich: OPERATION BBQ RELIEF INTRODUCES YETI® AS AN OFFICIAL SPONSOR SPONSORSHIP WILL HELP OBR FEED DISPLACED FAMILIES AND EMERGENCY PERSONNEL IN DISASTER AREAS KANSAS CITY, MO (May 25, 2017) – Operation BBQ Relief (OBR), a nonprofit consisting of volunteers from competition barbecue teams who provide hot meals to displaced families and emergency personnel in areas impacted by natural disasters, announces YETI®, a leading premium cooler and drinkware brand, as an official sponsor. “We are excited to have YETI as the official cooler and drinkware partner of Operation BBQ Relief,” said Stan Hays, co-founder and CEO. “In our brief five year history, we’ve served over a million meals to people in need, and thanks to the support of YETI and other companies we will be positioned to serve millions more.” “We’re very thankful and fortunate to be able to contribute to such a great cause,” said LeighAnn Bakunas, beer and barbecue marketing manager at YETI. “Alongside Operation BBQ Relief, we’ll strive to help as many people as possible, by providing delicious meals for those in need.” “Built-for-the-long haul, YETI products fit perfectly with the needs of Operation BBQ Relief. Ensuring that food stays safe is critical, and we now have the capability to send raw food to disaster areas with enough capacity to make a real difference. These coolers give us great flexibility and capacity to store cold food for days in environments without power, and we don’t have to worry about a thing. Not to mention this adds holding hot food capacity and cold drinks for our hard working volunteers,” said Will Cleaver, COO and co-founder of Operation BBQ Relief. Founded in 2011 in the wake of the devastating tornado in Joplin, Mo., Operation BBQ Relief has since provided over 1,100,000 meals during 35 deployments in 20 states. The organization has 4,500 registered volunteers who travel to hard-hit areas to barbecue and serve food to hungry people. In 2015, co-founder Hays was runner-up on the Food Network show, “Chopped,” in Grill Masters Season 2, and talked about Operation BBQ Relief. About Operation BBQ Relief The mission of Operation BBQ Relief is to provide compassion, offer hope and friendship to those whose lives have been affected by disasters across the United States through our expertise in cooking and catering barbecue meals and our ability to quickly mobilize our teams into any area where nature disrupts and tears apart the lives of Americans. About YETI Founded in Austin, Texas in 2006, YETI is a leading premium cooler and drinkware brand. The world’s top hunters, anglers, outdoor adventurers, BBQ pitmasters, and ranch and rodeo professionals trust YETI to stand up to the world’s harshest conditions. For more on the company and its full line of products and accessories, visit YETI.com. You Might Like These Other BBQ & Grilling Articles Purchase your very own Category: BBQ Industry, BBQ News, Latest News Click to Post

[salutethepig]

Great world butchers (who just happen to be female...)

This page is an ongoing work and will be updated with descriptions of women butchers based outside England but like the ones on the English butchers, allowing as much as possible their own words to speak about them rather than anyone else chiming in. But let’s not imagine that women working as butchers is anything new…

San Francisco News-Call Bulletin Photo Morgue

More than 30 women were learning the art of cutting, weighing, wrapping and selling meats today as San Francisco’s first butcherettes began training to take the places of a thousand butchers who have gone into the armed forces.  Here Eugene Mulligan shows the trainees how to carve lamb. Officials of Butchers Union, Local 115, said more women would be called to training later. The training course is being given in Mr. Mulligan’s New Bay City Market, 1985 Mission Street, across from Labor Temple. September 25, 1942

Now, in 2017, Mo Morrison-Brandeis is the head butcher at Stock-in-Trade in Toronto.

© Fat Girl Food Squad 2015

“Does your job make you feel empowered at all?

I’m very proud of the work that I do. I am always so focused on thinking and theory, so I think it is great for me to have a job where I work with my hands and am able to get out of my own head. It also just feels great to be able to feed people using local food, and to be able to make creations with local ingredients like apples and garlic scapes. Although it does feel badass to hack apart an animal, I am bringing a lot of female energy and I don’t work in a brutalist way. This meat comes from an animal and we need to respect that and treat them with care. It may look bad ass to be covered in blood at the end of the day, but it mostly just feels to good to know that my body is capable of doing such important work.” (© Fat Girl Food Squad 2015)

© Fat Girl Food Squad 2015

Or Butcher Betties a female veteran owned butcher shop located in Florence, KY

Melissa Cortina of the Out Of The Box Collective here working on a side of lamb

© Out Of The Box Collective 2015

  and a YouTube video here showing how to breakdown a chicken.

There’s Zhang Caijie, a Taiwanese butcher in the Dongmen Market doing great work with pork in her family owned business. But then dubbed the ‘Pork Princess’ by the tabloids. Of course. Morons.

Then there’s Marie Flore at Le Bourdennec, Paris. There’s more about this particular butcher’s in another article posted on this site.

Or Master Butcher, Kari Underly from Range Partners in Chicago. Speaking about the male attitudes to females in the meat trade:

Master butcher Kari Underly cuts into a hog during a “Women in the Meat Business” workshop in Chapel Hill, NC. Leoneda Inge/North Carolina Public Radio

Meet “Cochon Butcher“‘s Leighann Smith aka New Orleans’ ‘Meat Mama’.

One of those places that we discovered in Nola that was no more than 10 minutes walk from our apartment although at that time Leighann hadn’t taken up her post. And who couldn’t love a place that was so up-front about what animal they used to work their magic?

  Smith is sure there are other female butchers out there in the world. And certainly female chefs in New Orleans do some of their own butchering. But she hasn’t yet run across any other full-time female butchers in the Crescent City.

“It’s definitely a male side of the industry,” she said.

That fact makes her proud. Her nickname, “Meat Mama,” is sewn on her chef’s coat.

Erika Nakamura; one half of the female team owning Lindy & Grundy in LA which Erika describes as an “old-school industrial French butcher shop,” with an ingenius rail system, for hanging and moving whole animals, designed by Amelia’s cousin, an ironworker in New York.

The popular image of the butcher is a big man with a florid face and a menacing jolliness—what Erika calls “the fat dude in a bloody apron.” At Lindy & Grundy, Erika is the head butcher. To assist, they hire only what Amelia calls SNAGs—Sensitive New Age Guys. For example, there’s the one they refer to as “Young Buck,” Alex Jermasik, an apple-cheeked young man with a line of stubble along his jaw, who quit school to work at Lindy & Grundy and recently won the Chicken Breakdown competition at the Eat Real Festival, beating out a master butcher and the sous chef at Bouchon. “Our meat child,” Amelia said affectionately. “I’ve turned him into a Chicana feminist. He’ll be quoting Gloria Anzeldua soon.”

And, like all the best butchers, she cares — and takes care — to check out what her animals eat & how they’re looked after.

Q: What do the animals eat?

Beef: 100% pastured and eats grass it’s entire life. It’s grass fed and grass finished.

Pork: 100% pastured and eats fruits, veggies, black eyed peas, cotton seed, local barley, almonds that fall from the trees at the ranch.

But that I have had to look so far away for women butchers is slightly discouraging. I’m guessing there are a lot, unsung, unmentioned, working here in England. So, if you’re one of them or know one of them? Tell me.

Great world butchers (who just happen to be female…) was originally published on Salute The Pig

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

Around the Diabetes Blogosphere - July 2011 Edition

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/around-the-diabetes-blogosphere-july-2011-edition/

Around the Diabetes Blogosphere - July 2011 Edition

We're in the height of summer, but that doesn't mean the DOC is slowing down. We hope you've all been enjoying our Summer Reading series of guest posts here at the 'Mine. Today, check out our top picks of not-to-miss posts for July from all around the diabetes blogosphere:

Scott Strumello's 35th diaversary prompts him to reflect on his recent diabetes burn-out and the future of his own writing about diabetes.

Chris Snider has a lively talk with Olympic skier and type 1 diabetic Kris Freeman on a recent episode of his podcast, Just Talking.

Holy media stereotypes! Wendell Fowler, columnist at a local Indiana newspaper, really stirred things up when he attacked the Diabetes Youth Foundation of Indiana for their ice cream fundraiser... Check out all the passionate responses on the newspaper's website from some of the DOC's finest. Remember, if you see something inaccurate about diabetes, please speak up — and then tell the rest of us, so we can speak up, too!

Leighann Calentine chats it up with Denise Jonas — yep, that Jonas! Denise is spokesmom for the newest initiative by Disney and Lilly: Coco the Monkey, who has type 1 diabetes.

Did you miss out on this year's CWD Friends for Life conference like us? Lorraine reports about how Lilly and Disney are also partnering up to launch the Once Upon a Time contest, where you could win a trip to the 2012 Friends for Life conference. Woohoo!

Michele Brown interviews her husband on what it's really like to have a spouse with diabetes. Candid honesty here, People!

Lee Ann Thill has started her master's program studying art therapy in diabetes (congrats!) and one of her first assignments is to write about her personal core, which she says includes the Diabetes Online Community.

Mary, a new D-blogger on the scene, writes about her personal comfort with other people knowing she has diabetes... and wants to know if people are more or less private than her about sharing their diabetes? What say you?

Scott Strange, a typically cantankerous blogger (in the nicest sense possible!), writes eloquently about about his experience interacting with children with diabetes at this year's Friends for Life conference.

The Australian Diabetes Council produced a series of short films on people with diabetes for their awareness week earlier this month.

Have a post suggestion for next month's round-up? Drop us a note and let us know!

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

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[alejandrocortez]

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[alejandrocortez]

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[alejandrocortez]

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[alejandrocortez]

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