#trying to get the labor-intensive shopping out of the way as early in the month as i can

[naomiknight-17]

Went Christmas shopping today and I found a lot of things I'd been looking for but it meant walking across a massive plaza and hitting 3+ stores which were, themselves, very large

And now I'm sitting down at Jollibee while Jon grabs something I forgot back at the first store because there's no way I could walk all that way and back again. My back and legs are murdering me and I can't take more painkillers for at least another hour blugghhhhhhh

But when Jon gets back. Jollibee for dinner. Yaaaaay

[soul-controller]

Home Improvement

Hey there everyone! In hopes of trying to convince more people to join my Patreon, I wanted to go ahead and post one of my favorite stories I've written onto Tumblr. If you're a fan of it, please feel free to click here to join because I love to occasionally dabble into stories like these...

* * * * *

As Timothy made his way into his bathroom to take a shower, there was an obvious sense of annoyance spread across his face in the form of a deep frown. Although he had just graduated early from college and returned home six months prior, his nosy and rather controlling parents were eager for him to either move back out or get a high-paying job so they could charge him for rent and utilities. Due to his parents’ persistence, the man wasn’t allowed the opportunity of having a break and just relaxing for a few months after four years of intense engineering courses. Instead, he was forced to immediately begin looking for a job.

* * * * *

This job search began just a week after Timothy had finally packed up his belongings and moved back home to his rural Midwestern town. During one of the days where he was forced to help run some errands with his father, Timothy found himself in a local hardware and general shop that had a help wanted sign taped to the front window. Of course, as soon as Timothy’s father got his desired items and reached the cash register, he couldn’t resist inquiring about the help wanted sign. As the bulky corn-fed cashier gruffly told them about their need for a new cashier, Timothy immediately tensed up as he knew what was going to happen next. Just as he had expected, his father immediately pushed the meek blonde-haired man closer to the counter while talking about how his son was in need of a job after graduating.

Upon hearing this, the cashier called up a manager to talk with Timothy as he finished ringing up the items that his father was purchasing. Before he knew it, Timothy had been taken to a backroom, finished an interview with the manager, secured the position, and even been given a start date that was in just 3 days.

As he walked out to his dad’s car to share the news, Timothy tried to mentally prepare himself for the impending disagreement with his highly argumentative father. Given the fact that he had no “manly” pastimes like manual labor, he would literally be a fish out of water if he was forced to work at the hardware store. But no matter how hard he tried to explain this fact, Timothy found his father unwilling to budge on the prospect of a new job. In fact, his father even gave him an ultimatum - take the job and work there or move out and live elsewhere. Knowing that his closest living relatives were his redneck grandparents that lived down in Kentucky, this left the openly gay man with little to no options. In fact, as Timothy slowly nodded his head and agreed to take the job, his father stated the same thing to him while taking the opportunity to make a few jabs at his son’s sexuality.

“No offense kid, but it would be nice for you to become a bit more manly from this job. I mean, it’s no wonder you can’t ever find yourself a boyfriend when you’d rather play video games and mess around with Legos,” his father said with a hearty chuckle, finally putting the car into drive and allowing Timothy to escape his brand new personal hell (at least for those next 3 days).

However, by June, Timothy hadn’t learned to become more of a man’s man from working at the hardware store. Inversely, it had only reaffirmed his raging homosexuality as he found himself constantly thirsting over the hunky clientele that ranged from hot burly dads to hunky construction workers that stopped in to replenish their materials on occasion. As he stood at the register and watched as the men lifted their heavy items up from their carts and onto the counter, Timothy was constantly enamored by how their biceps and pectorals bulged against their too-tight shirts along with the slight reveal of their hairy stomachs as they lifted the items up high enough to reach the counter.

Due to the constant flexing sessions that he was always witnessing, the pale man was constantly thankful for the counter that helped conceal his near-constant boners. Given the fact that he was in an extremely conservative town in the Midwest, it seemed likely that this would be the closest he’d get to any real and personal intimacy with a man (at least without the high risk of being hate-crimed) until he saved up enough money to move out and jump into the next phase of schooling for his electrical engineering career.

Although it wasn’t surprising that being back in this rural town was impactful to the man’s confidence in terms of his sexuality, Timothy was quite certainly shocked by how detrimental returning home was to his mental health. In fact, it had gotten to the point where he was so depressed that he found himself wishing at night that he could no longer have to fear showing love and affection towards men.

* * * * *

Watching as steam finally began to rise up above the shower curtain, Timothy finally stopped himself from traveling down memory lane. He only had 45 minutes to finish getting ready and eat some food before his shift started, so he definitely needed to get in and out of the shower as quickly as possible. As such, the man quickly pulled off his shirt, shorts, and underwear until he was completely nude. Taking a moment though, he opted to take one look at himself in the bathroom mirror and observe his features.

Much like every other day though, as soon as his eyes stared into his reflection, he was quite unimpressed by what he saw. Not only was his body lacking in any form of muscle definition, but his pale complexion made him look even more frail and weak. Despite having a gorgeous set of light blue eyes, they were not appealing enough to compensate for the man’s patchy facial hair, bulbous nose, and crooked teeth. Continuing down his body, he immediately cringed as he stared at his definition-less chest and saw the thick patch of brown chest hair that stuck out like a sore thumb on his body. Although it was incredibly unattractive, Timothy couldn’t bring himself to shave it off as he believed that he would look practically invisible without that hair to bring in a much needed pop of color.

Even though he was disappointed with the vast majority of his body though, there was one part that he wasn’t ashamed of - his cock. Looking down, he stared at his 5” flaccid cock and couldn’t resist allowing a slight smile to form on his face. While this was certainly an impressive feat for the blonde twink to have, it was even more hot to him when thinking about how long and girthy it got once he was hard. This was yet another reason why he was thankful for the cubby hole that was underneath the counter at work, as it was able to easily conceal the 9” cock that would proudly jut out of his pants no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

Although this was certainly an impressive thing in Timothy’s eyes and something that he was actually happy about, the concept of having a long cock was quite the double-edged sword. Given the impressive size, he was quite a hit on Grindr while he was in college, but by the time Timothy would send the desired selfie to the person interested in hooking up, the conversation would immediately die and he’d end up spending yet another night alone. As he took a moment to observe it for one more moment, he silently wished for the opportunity to finally lose his virginity before entering the shower and preparing for the inevitably boring shift he was going to have.

After finally finishing up, putting his uniform on, and getting a quick bite to eat, Timothy finally made his way out of the house and drove to his workplace. Luckily enough, he had a few minutes to spare and thus opted to try and hype himself up by blasting some loud pop music in his car to try and keep his energy up. The store was a black hole of Timothy’s positivity, especially due to the gross fluorescent lighting and the near constant country music that played through the store’s speaker system. But as he checked his watch and saw that he only had two minutes to spare, the man finally turned off his car and made the agonizing yet short trek into his personal hell for the next 6 hours.

For the next two hours, Timothy’s pop song pick-me-up did little to save him from becoming miserable almost immediately. The clientele for the majority of the shift so far had been older elderly couples that had purchased a few items and then loved to complain to Timothy about “his lazy generation”, so it was safe to say that he was understandably ready to go home already. But luckily, Timothy was able to get some much needed eye candy shortly after passing the two hour mark as a shaggy haired blonde jock came into the store. Immediately upon hearing the man’s dopey and dim-witted voice ask for directions towards the clothing section, the cashier’s cock rose to attention as Timothy smiled and pointed him in the proper direction.

Upon hearing the jock thank him and refer to him as “bro”, it wasn’t a surprise that Timothy’s cock almost immediately began to dribble out pre-cum for the next 20 minutes while he continued to observe him in between customers. This also wasn’t helped by the fact that the jock decided that he wasn’t interested in using the store’s dressing room and instead peeled off his shirt to show off his ripped torso while trying out a series of tank tops. Although he could have watched the man change for hours, the sudden clearing of a throat near him caused Timothy to finally turn back towards the checkout lane.

Immediately, he found himself staring face-to-face with a striking woman. Although he had no interest in her due to the fact that she wasn’t a man, Timothy could easily notice how gorgeous the woman was due to her long and wavy brunette hair, impressive makeup that allowed her eyes to look incredibly doe-eyed, and a curvy figure that was struggling to stay within the confines of a tight flower-patterned sundress.

“Oh hello there,” Timothy said, attempting to hide his blushing towards the stripping jock with a wide smile. Looking down, he watched as the woman placed her basket of items onto the countertop and flashed back a bright white smile towards the cashier.

“Hi there. I was wondering if you’d be able to help me make sure I’m getting the right stuff,” she said, her voice in an incredibly cheerful tone that immediately caused Timothy to not feel so dour.

“Uh, I’m not really the best person to ask about this stuff, but I can try my best to help you out I guess,” Timothy said, that wide smile shrinking into a smaller one as he leaned down towards the basket and pulled the items out. In doing so, he found himself staring at a bucket of screws, a few common tools, and a large handheld drill.

“Oh that’s ok, my husband sent me a list of things to get. I just want someone to make sure I’m not misreading anything,” the woman responded, pulling her phone out of her purse and beginning to unlock it.

In hopes of trying to make some small talk and allow the time to pass a bit faster, Timothy found himself trying to engage in more conversation as she scrolled through her text messages. “So, what are you doing with all of this stuff,” he inquired, looking up from the counter and towards the woman.

“Well, my husband’s been wanting to create a back patio and deck for our house for a few years now. So now that he’s got a huge increase in customers at his business, he finally decided that he was going to make it over the summer. His goal is to finish it by the 4th of July, but I honestly don’t know if he’ll finish it in time,” she said, finishing her sentence with a light chuckle that only made her seem more bubbly in Timothy’s eyes.

“Ah nice, that’s cool. My parents have a back patio at their house and it’s really nice,” he responded, his tone growing increasingly chipper with each exchange they had between each other. “You said your husband got a huge increase in customers at his business right? If you don’t mind me asking, what does he do,” he further inquired, his still-horny mind from the shirtless jock dude making him eager to paint a mental portrait of this mysterious handyman husband.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine. He’s a personal trainer, he runs a business out of the local gym here and also through Instagram and stuff. I guess you could say he’s a bit of an influencer, but not really since he’s terrible with technology,” she continued, flashing a wide smile that once again made Timothy’s workplace not feel so drab and boring for the moment.

Upon hearing the concept of her husband being a personal trainer, Timothy was back to being rock hard from underneath the counter. Letting his mind run wild, he envisioned the most attractive and muscular man possible, thinking about how great it must be to be with someone like that. In many ways, Timothy was jealous of the woman, but he was also happy for her due to her seeming like a nice down-to-earth lady.

“Ah here it is,” the woman cheerfully said, breaking the horny gay man out of his inner thirsting as she handed the phone over to Timothy to show him the text. Taking his time, the man slowly checked and verified that each item that the woman had grabbed was correct. But as he did so, he also took the opportunity to scan through the messages that he had sent both prior and after the list text. From doing this, he was able to find out the hunky man’s name: Liam.

Just as Timothy was able to finally gather that information about the man’s name, the woman’s phone suddenly buzzed as a text message came through. At that instant, the phone automatically pulled Timothy down to the most recent message, which was a brand new text from Liam that he couldn’t resist reading.

Liam: Hey babe, just got done at the gym. Gonna wash up and head home. I’ve been thinking about you during my entire pump… 🍆

Right after he finished reading that message, the phone once again vibrated as a brand new image suddenly appeared and allowed Timothy to see what the woman’s husband looked like.

Given the reveal, Timothy felt his dick throb from underneath the counter as his dirty mind envisioned the hunky tattooed man fucking the giddy and cheerful woman in an extremely dominant fashion. Apparently, this vision was able to elicit a shift in Timothy's expression as the woman curiously asked what was wrong.

Breaking himself out of that horny mindset, the man was understandably flustered about how to respond. “I- um, your uh, husband sent you a message,” Timothy stammered out, handing the phone back to the woman and allowing her to gasp and blush before closing the phone and tucking it back into her purse. “But uh, those are all of the correct items he asked for. So yeah, we can go ahead and get you checked out,” he continued, attempting to change the subject while trying to get his cheeks to no longer look flush.

Upon finishing ringing up the items, Timothy quickly announced the total and proceeded to the payment phase as the woman, equally bashful, inserted her card and entered her PIN code. While this was going on, the pale gay man’s mind was going wild with continued visions of Liam completely nude. But instead of envisioning him with the brunette woman, Timothy had instead inserted himself into the visions, allowing the hunk to easily seduce and fuck his tiny ass while making Timothy worship his muscles.

As the payment went through and the receipt finally began to print, there was one lingering thought that was running through the cashier’s head. I would literally do anything to have a life with a guy like that. They seem so genuinely happy and in love with each other, why can’t I ever have something like that for myself? But as he saw another customer finally begin to join the line, Timothy forced himself to push aside that thought. Quickly grabbing onto the receipt, the man extended it outwards for the woman to grab as he told her to have a great day. But as soon as she gripped onto the receipt, Timothy’s vision went completely dark and he seemed to be enveloped into nothingness.

Out of nowhere though, an all-too familiar voice suddenly was picked up on and made Timothy feel confused. “Excuse me ma’am, you dropped your receipt,” he heard, which caused himself to finally return to consciousness and open his eyes. Upon doing so, the man audibly gasped as he found himself standing at the other side of the counter and staring at his own body.

“Wha, what’s going on?” he said, his voice wavering as he began to hyperventilate in complete shock. Why does my voice feel weird and sound incredibly soft? As he felt a slight weight tugging against his left elbow, Timothy darted his eyes downward, which caused him to suddenly see a light pink purse hanging from it. Beginning to piece things together, the man quickly looked around further, taking note of the thin and flowy sundress he was now wearing, the perky and sizable breasts that were threatening to spill out of that aforementioned sundress, and the long wavy hair that kept falling into his face every time he leaned downwards. He had somehow swapped bodies with the female customer!

Although he was understandably confused by what was going on, that confusion was further elevated as he found that the woman who had swapped bodies with him seemed unaware of anything that had happened to him. In fact, Timothy’s usual pessimistic and dour mood was on full display as if she was the real version!

“Uh nothing is going on lady. You bought your items and then dropped your receipt before spazzing out for no reason. I’ve got a bit of a line forming, so I’m gonna have to ask you to move aside so I can start helping others,” the woman-turned-cashier coldly said, immediately telling the next customer to move forward so “he” could begin scanning them.

In complete shock, Timothy gripped onto the three bags that the woman had purchased and sort of slowly moved away from the register. Throughout the few strides he made towards an empty section near the front of the store, Timothy found himself immediately stumbling due his new footwear: a pair of white platform wedge sandals. While it seemed as though the woman had naturally adapted to believing like she was a man and acting like the real Timothy, the brand new married woman hadn’t been afforded the same luxury.

Due to this, Timothy found himself curious and somewhat eager to get more acquainted with his new form and thus decided to head towards the bathrooms inside the store. Although he almost nearly ran into the men’s restroom, he was able to successfully stop himself before trouble ensued and head towards the women’s restroom. Upon making sure that no one else was in the restroom, he locked the door behind him and set down the bags of items against one of the walls. Upon doing so, the man gingerly made his way towards the mirror and watched in awe as the woman’s curvy figure and gorgeous face were reflected back at him. No matter how hard he tried to pinch himself (and his new dainty and hairless arms) in hopes of discovering this to be some strange dream, the desired result didn’t occur for the incredibly confused man.

So for several minutes, Timothy playfully tested out his new body in a multitude of ways. He expressed countless emotions to see how they manifested onto the cute face of a woman and took note of how annoying long hair could be despite enjoying running his fingers through the wavy brunette locks. Due to his more curvy figure as well, he couldn’t resist running his hands up his dress and squeezing his large breasts and pillowy ass cheeks to adapt to his new hourglass figure. Upon doing this, the man grew curious further and decided to experiment by breaking into a jog in place to feel the sensations he would now be forced to get used to. Although it was certainly not great to feel such strange areas of heft in comparison to his skinny and frail body, Timothy believed that he could most certainly get used to it in time as he spent more and more time as a member of the opposite sex. 

Before he could dive further into exploring his new form though, a sudden vibration emerged in Timothy’s new purse. Unzipping it, he pulled the purse lips open and reached in with his well-manicured pink nails. As they finally grazed against the woman’s cell phone, he gripped onto it and pulled it out. Clicking on the power button, he watched as the home screen informed him of a brand new text from Liam. Although he had no idea what the woman’s passcode was, FaceID came to the rescue as he was granted access to his new phone and quickly opened up the new text message.

Liam: Hey babe, is everything ok? You read the message but never responded.

Although he knew that he was talking about his wife, Timothy’s heart couldn’t resist fluttering upon realizing that Liam was now talking about him. As such, he was quick to fire off a message to try and explain the delay

Timothy: Yeah, sorry about that. I was dealing with some issues at the hardware store.

Liam: Oh ok, do I need to come down there?

Upon envisioning the concept of the hunky personal trainer coming to his rescue, Timothy would have surely been rocking a thick and throbbing boner. But now that he was a woman, this sensation was now a deep tingling from the inner depths of his crotch. Giddy at the attention from his new husband, instant flirtation immediately came to his mind that quickly translated into text.

Timothy: No, but I certainly wouldn’t be mad at seeing you sooner rather than later.. 👀

Although he wasn’t intending on beginning a sexting exchange with his new husband, Timothy’s words seemingly spurred Liam into action as Timothy soon found his phone bombarded by a text and video.

Liam: Ask and you shall receive babe! 😜 I’m always down to please you Cassie, and as you can see, I clearly miss you too… 😳

While Timothy was most certainly excited to check out the video that Liam had sent, his attention was immediately caught by the fact that he now knew his new name. Cassie, you definitely seem like a Cassie, he thought to himself as he turned into the mirror and admired the girly visage and body. Now secure in his new identity, the brand new woman took the opportunity to click on the video and allow it to play.

Cassie: Wow you’re such a fucking tease, why did you have to end it right before the best part? 😩

Liam: I mean, how else am I gonna encourage you to come home ASAP? I’m needy and want you so badly…

Feeling that wave of pleasure coursing through his body once more, Timothy was eager to continue on with the teasing.

Cassie: I want you so badly too babe. I’ve been thinking about you a lot too…

Liam: Prove it.

Being egged on by the sense of a challenge, Timothy decided to become even more of a tease to the horny man. Pulling open the camera, he began to record himself slowly pulling down his sundress before suddenly wagging a finger at the camera and abruptly ending the recording. Upon sending the video off, Timothy couldn’t resist chuckling as Liam rapidly typed out a response.

Liam: C’mon babe, gimme some more. I’ve sent you several compromising photos and videos so far. You’re in a public restroom, lock the door and give me a little bit of a show!

Feeling incredibly eager to both please his new husband while also being encouraged by how much he lusted over his wife, Timothy once again verified that the door to the bathroom was locked before finally deciding to further explore his body. Gingerly, he slipped off the sundress and allowed it to land in a clump on top of his platform sandals and partially slump onto the tiled floor. Although he felt an inner desire to pull off his bra and take a look at his tits, the concept of struggling to pull back on the bra left him quick to abort the idea. So at first, he quickly snapped a few photos in just his bra and panties before sending them off.

Since he knew that Liam would surely be begging for more though, Timothy furthered the fun and decided to pull down his panties and take the opportunity to record himself exploring his new genitalia. As such, as soon as he pressed record and began to run his fingers along the lips of his new pussy, Timothy couldn’t resist moaning and uttering Liam’s name as he envisioned the hunky personal trainer putting every inch of his clearly sizable manhood into his feminine folds.

Upon finishing recording the video, Timothy quickly sent it off and admired his figure some more while awaiting his husband’s new response. Not surprisingly, it only took a minute after the message was delivered for Liam to send another text response with an accompanying photo.

Liam: Oh fuck yeah babe, you better feel up that tight little cunt and think of me. I’m tired of waiting, get dressed and come home immediately. The sooner you get here, the sooner I can eat you out before we get onto the main event…

Reading the message in conjunction with the open-mouthed photo that his husband had sent, Timothy was just as over the texting as Liam was. Although he had no idea what was going to happen when it came to having sex with a pussy, his desires and lust for the man was too much to resist any longer. So as he pulled back on his panties and the sundress, Timothy took one last look into the mirror before zhuzhing up his hair.

As soon as he would exit this bathroom, he would forever leave behind his old life as a pale and frail gay virgin. Although there was a slight twinge of loss towards his years of hard work when it came to college, none of that would matter if he had no one to hold him at night and treat him with the love and respect that he deserved. So although he wasn’t entirely the biggest fan of losing out on his impressive cock and becoming a woman, he ultimately viewed it as a necessary loss to get everything that he’s wanted in life. After leaning down and grabbing onto the bags of items that her husband had wanted, the brand new Cassie eagerly unlocked the door and stepped into her new life.

Making her way out of the hardware store, the woman’s hips naturally swayed and allowed her juicy ass to draw all of the attention of the other shoppers (as best as it could from her gorgeous and prominent rack). As she approached the front door of the store, Cassie slowly turned around and gave a light wave to the bored-looking cashier. Not surprisingly, his wave back was not enthusiastic in the slightest as Timothy quickly did that and went back to taking care of the blonde-haired jock who had a basket full of tank tops resting on the counter.

Turning back on her heels, the woman finally made her leave and slowly pressed the fob of her car keys until her car revealed itself to her. Finally approaching it, she quickly opened the backseat door and deposited the three bags before finally entering the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. Quickly pulling open her phone, she pressed the “Home” location on her phone’s GPS and allowed the directions to begin. As she sat there for a moment, a wide smile formed on her face as she realized just how great this life was going to be for her.

As if on cue, a loud ding echoed through the car’s speakers as another text message from her husband filled Cassie’s car. Opening it up, she couldn’t help but gasp at what she both read and saw.

Liam: I love you so much babe, I can’t wait to fuck your pussy so good tonight. Just think of all of the fun we’ll have this summer once I finish building that patio deck for you…

Not surprisingly, Cassie’s mind began to play the video on an endless loop. With each instance of watching her husband bite his lip in an incredibly erotic way and shake his sizable bulge for the camera, she found herself quite desperate to get her hands, mouth, and pussy all over his glorious manhood. As such, the woman instantly pulled her car into reverse before speeding off to have some quality time with the absolute love of her life.

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[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 55

~*~Sebastian~*~

I stared at her. Stunned. I'm not sure if it's how the conversation went or she wants me and whatever comes with me. Emma is so intentional. Her words carry meaning. She wants to be clear and asks for clarity. This is heaven for my overthinking brain. I’m not stuck wondering what she means nor am I afraid to ask. Because I know she'll answer. Really answer.

"I've got eight years on you, how are you the more mature one?"

"Stabilizing influence and frighteningly direct communication of my second dad."

The expression on her face and deadpanned delivery had me laughing. "I can see that. I'll be the emotionally reactive one and you can be the calming one." Then I remembered. "Although, Eli did tell a story about you laying into some guy in Hawaii at a volleyball game. Ed dumped you in the ocean. I wish there was video."

"There is. You'll have to get dad to send it to you."

Tuesday was a good day. Workout was hard and my abs were already sore, but we'd laughed a lot. Good phone call with mom. The house had come together, she was enjoying some time in the pool, and she'd picked up some piano students. My afternoon was spent in my manager, Emily's, office. Mostly she and I, but a few conference calls. I was about to be busy. The next six weeks I was more gone than home. I was excited about the work. Excited to see friends.

Admittedly, the timing wasn't the greatest, new relationship and all, but I was confident we'd figure it out. This is different. I'd like to say it was because my previous experience is whining and bitching about me being gone so long, knowing I was going to pay for the distance, and trying to front-load my leaving to make it more palatable. While all of those all true, the actual difference is I care. The emotionally unavailable hot and cold thing comes into play here. I put up a wall to block the whining and bitching, not really listening, because it's my job. Bitching at me isn’t going to change anything and I’m not going to feel guilty for doing my job. Well, I do, but it just pisses me off because I shouldn’t.  The expectation of gifts, dinners, or a vacation to make up for being gone made those a lot less fun. And I was never successful at cramming a bunch of stuff in before I left, because my work didn't start when I left. It starts weeks before. I don’t leave for filming for a month, but I’m already prepping: gym reading, watching things, research, and studying the script. I get pretty singularly focused. I don't know any other way. And when pushed I shut down. I don't respond. I brood. And I appear cold. None of this is right. Some just is. Some is my fault. Getting to where I didn't care about her (any of the previous hers) feelings and concerns with me gone was a side effect of shutting down and I regret doing that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her feelings. It was feeling ineffectual to do anything about it and my self-protection kicking in. Looking back, saying effectively “deal with it” was incredibly insensitive. Not proud of it.

But now, sitting here looking at my schedule I’m finding places I can find some time for us. We’ll figure it out. I can tell you what won’t happen. Emma won't whine where I block her out. She's not going to emotionally blackmail me for things, which will make me want to give. And she’ll leave me alone to prep, let me bounce things off her, or cook something to remind me to eat. I need all of those. I care how Emma's going to feel about me being gone. I care about what we’ve begun and how we'll keep in touch. I also know that while I'm away she will carry on living the life she had before she had me and be just fine.

Emma had practice tonight and a game tomorrow. It was after eight when she called. She was in a tank top and her hair was wet from her shower. I caught up on her day before leading into mine. "I have good news and bad news."

"OK." Emma drug out the word, wary of my response.

"When I get back from Canada, I've got some time to spend with you. Then I’m gone for the month of July. Fashion show, audition and meetings, comic con, then filming in Rome." Playing off last night’s conversation, I added. "I'm not expecting a bad reaction."

"Well, that's good." Her hand moved toward the screen and I chose to believe she was touching my face. "I'II miss you, but I’m excited for you. And me getting to hear about what you're doing. Living vicariously."

I'd had some time to think. I had a lot of thoughts on plans. This was the soonest.  "You get back Tuesday, doubleheader Wednesday, and I get back late Thursday. What's your weekend look like?"

"Empty. I'll come to you. You'll barely be home if you come here. I can come anytime Friday. I'll be done with work except maybe packing up my room. I can do that whenever."

"Early Friday. Thursday night." I wanted to maximize our time. "I have to do some work."

"I can amuse myself."

"Maybe the shop you liked so much will be having a sale?" I laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "July fourth weekend I'm at a fashion show. Wanna go to Paris?"

"What?" Her face moved closer to the screen. I’d surprised her.

"Not necessarily Paris, but near. The third is the show. Have you been to Paris?"

"Family spent the summer in Europe when we were thirteen. Then Pearl Jam tours. Love Paris."

"Not much more than a long weekend, but museums and I'm sure we can find some romantic Paris shit to do."

"I would love to go to Paris with you."

That was good because I'd already made reservations. "California for about two weeks then straight to Italy for at least that. Depends on how long shooting takes. Hopefully back in time to join you in Chicago. Then nothing until the end of August. Will and I had been talking about a group of us going away. We were waiting for my schedule. What do you think about a group trip and we stay a little longer or go off alone? It would be a beach somewhere."

"You going to rub sunscreen on me?"

"Um yay, part of my volleyball job. Beer bitch and sunscreen applier."

“I’m in."

"End of August is a Disney thing. Labor Day weekend is the Toronto Film Fest. Little stuff in there, nothing big. No idea past then."

She laughed, eyes wide, and moving her head in all directions "It's crazy like a tour schedule. I'm jealous. I love touring."

"I thought about Rome, but the schedule's tight. You wouldn't see me."

"I wasn't trying for an invite. I'll get some of my summer PD hours done so I won't have to worry about them. Make sure I've got time for us."

I leaned back on the couch, "That was easy."

She glared at me. "I thought you weren't expecting a bad reaction?"

I shook my head, "No, no, I wasn't. Just an observation. Thought I might have to talk you into the beach." I held it a second before smiling, "Not really. I do know it’s a lot."

"I will always go to a beach."

"You’re not allowed to play volleyball."

"Did you get the video from dad?"

"About an hour ago." I'd enjoyed it several times. "You're a feisty little thing."

Wednesday was a day of pictures and texts. After the gym, I settled in my extra room to prep. I had my laptop on the table, a stack of books on top of my script, and a huge bottle of water. I took a picture and posted it to Instagram along with one of me with a pencil between my teeth and pulling my hair.

Emma ~ How'd you get a picture of your expression during your last blow job?

Sebastian ~ Hidden camera in bedroom. You should see the other things I have. Coupling Season 1. "The Cupboard of Patrick's Love."

Emma ~ “You really don't have enough blood for both ends of your body, do you?"

Sebastian ~ Very good, Sally.

 Love that she can quote one of my favorite shows.

After lunch, Emma posted a picture of her in the middle of a group hug with her students. "I'll miss my munchkins.”  I sent a sad face emoji.

Then I fell into a hole. I got pulled into my research and reading and the next time I picked up my phone it was one a.m. I need time like this and put my phone on do not disturb. The only thing that comes through is two calls from the same number within a few minutes. Anyone important knows how to reach me. Emma knew, but she didn't. Not even when the Demonic Crickets won their game. She posted several pictures, but I got a much better one in a text. Emma with her back to the camera in her team tank, arm up flexing her bicep, and her looking over her shoulder smiling at me. The gold flecks in her eyes were sparkling and the darker ring made the green more intense.

Emma ~ Hope you're getting a lot done. Internally anyway.  XOXO

Sebastian ~ * 12 hours later * Yeah, I did. I'm hungry. Congrats on the win. Picture is beautiful.

Sebastian ~ You're beautiful

 Her thank you came while I was working out. After a shower, I fell back into my hole until it was time for therapy.

I'd been seeing Celie for a long time. Frequency varied. She had a dark brown bob, glasses, and a round face. At this point, I could read her as well as she could me. If she was looking at me over her glasses, she thought I was full of shit. No words needed. She was about ten years older than me and her style worked for me. It was a great one-sided friendship.

I took my regular spot on the blue couch, "How are you today, Celie?"

Celie smiled. She had the unconditional positive regard thing down. I say that, but she does genuinely like me. Most of the time. I can be a pain in the ass. "I've had a good day and after you I get to go home. You seem to be in a good mood. Tell what's going on with you, Seb."

I was always her last client of the day. Sometimes I needed more than an hour. "I am in a good mood. I met somebody. Last time I saw you I was going to help my parents move. I met Emma there. In a grocery store, if you can believe that."

"Sounds like you can't."

"I asked her to dinner in under fifteen minutes."

She widened her eyes in disbelief. Exactly my point. "Did you? Good for you, Seb. A complete stranger. What led you to ask her out?"

"I was all covered up and she tells me I looked like a rehab patient checking into the clinic up the road. But she was kind to me. A sketchy stranger. She didn’t know who I was until we were outside and I introduced myself. She helped me find the things on my list and we chatted." I put my hands in front of my chest, fingers splayed. "She felt good. I didn't know why, just enough that I knew I wanted to know more.”

“And what do you know now?”

I spent the next several minutes telling Celie the salient points. We’ve been doing this long enough that explaining isn’t necessary. She’ll recognize why things are important. My face hurt from smiling after I was finished talking about Emma. I stopped short of the whole conversation on Sunday.

“Besides the obvious early relationship high, how are you feeling about all this?”

“Good. Happy. Hopeful. The only concerning thing was Saturday I woke up from a night terror, panic attack. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, wrote for a while, and once Emma got up I went for a run.”

“Even with being happy, there’s been quite a bit of emotional activity. I’m pleased that you’ve only woken up once. Much better. What do you suspect triggered you?”

I took a deep breath, “Emma and I wound up in this conversation Sunday afternoon. A couple of my friends at the party had told her I wasn’t acting like I normally do with women, but more like I am with friends. This led to a conversation about my relationship issues. I’m not the same with her. She really doesn’t know that version of me. I think that’s why I had the anxiety. It was the night after the party but before the conversation. First time we’d been around my friends. I think it was not because I’m scared, but because I’m not. Like you said, there’s been a lot of emotional shit going on and I’m good. Remarkably good.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Emma is different. She’s incredibly kind and is . . . gentle. Not weak though. She’s strong.”

Celie shook her head, “When I think of gentle people it’s a combination. They can be painfully truthful, but their manner makes others able to listen. They have a compassion for others.”

“Exactly! I noticed she knew everyone. She talked to everyone and used their name. I asked and she said she looked at their nametags and you never know what someone’s day has been. That might be the first nice thing that’s happened all day. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s her. She’s like that with me. She doesn’t try to talk me out of being anxious or overthinking. She doesn’t think my insecurities are stupid. They’re all just part of me.”

“She accepts you.”

“Right. The more we got to know each other, the more we talked, I felt safe. She doesn’t do those things I usually shut down over. I don’t feel the need to protect myself. She’s very different.”  Celie was looking at me over her glasses. Uh oh. “You’re giving me the look.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?  I thought I was doing good. I asked out a stranger and got this amazing woman.”

“Sebastian, as quick as you are to fault yourself, you’re slow to take credit.”

“Take credit?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “You think this relationship is different because of Emma. You lucked out and met an accepting, kind, gentle person.”

“Yes. No. Both. Emma is different and she makes me different.”

Celie made a loud, jarring beeping noise. This was new.

“Ok, I guess I’m wrong.”

“You are. Not completely. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Any credit. You’ve worked very hard. You’ve read. You’ve journaled. You’ve talked. You’ve done things I’ve asked you to even if you didn’t understand or want to. I’ve seen you grow. To give responsibility for this relationship being different all to Emma is dangerous. What’s going to happen when she falls off this pedestal you’ve put her on? Is that going to be an excuse to shut down and protect yourself? Fall back on old habits.”

I could feel my eyebrows pulled down and the scowl on my face. “So you’re saying this isn’t as good as I think it is.”

“Not at all. I’m saying it’s got as much to do with you as it does her. Previously you would have never asked out a woman you met in a grocery. But that seems to be the furthest you’re going with how you’re different. I do not believe for one second that no other woman you’ve gone out with has been kind and accepting. Or would have been if you would have been able to show them you.  You used to do things to test them. You’d say or do things to see how they’d react. As we’ve talked, you weren’t being real, so you don’t know that their reactions were.”

I nodded then looked down, “I know. Pretty manipulative.”  I felt Celie’s hand on my arm and looked back up. Her face was very soft with a smile.

“Stop, Seb. You need to be proud of yourself. You are doing things differently. You have learned from your past, grown, and come a long way in accepting yourself. Warts and all. You have shown Emma who you are, even the parts you don’t like so much. She can have credit for how she’s responded to you, but you deserve the credit for being brave enough to show her in an honest and authentic way. That allowed her to respond in an equally honest and authentic way.”

I grabbed a tissue from the ever-present box on the table and wiped the wet from my face. Neither the first nor the last time I’d cry in this room.

"If you had met her even a year ago, with her exactly as she is now, this relationship would be very different."

"The wedding."

"Excuse me?"

Yeah, non sequitur. "I was supposed to go to a friend’s wedding last summer but didn't because there was a change in my shooting schedule. Emma was at the wedding. You're right. Had I met her then," I shook my head. “I wouldn't have been ready for her and now could have never happened."

Celie shrugged, "Probably not."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "How do I get her off this pedestal I’ve put her on?"

"You seem pretty smitten. Maybe not take her off, just lower it a little." I laughed and she went on. "What you do is own your part. You have been making choices to improve yourself. You have been making choices to go out of your comfort zone. And you have been making choices to let her know you. Emma's been making similar choices to be with you. I'm sure you know what she's come through to be where she is. It seems like you complement each other. Recognize this is both of you waking up and choosing to be with each other. Talk and negotiate what that means. Tell her what you want. And when you're not talking you listen. Listen to what she needs from you. The most important for you is to keep processing the feelings with her. She's the only one who can help those make a picture. And you need to give her the same gift. She has things she’s not so proud of and afraid for you to know about her. We all do. You will need to accept her and treat her with gentle kindness she gives you.”

I was crying again. "She told me. I told her she was different than the others. She asked if maybe I was different."

Celie snickered, "I like her."

"You would. She speaks therapy."

"I want to be very clear, Seb. She sounds wonderful and she may make you better. You sound wonderful and I bet you make her better too. That’s how it should work in a relationship. You help each other along. It takes two people with self-awareness making choices to do what it takes. You both have to choose growth, honestly, humility, vulnerability, and sacrifice. I hear you holding up your end. I’ve not heard you do this before. And while she may be the right woman, you've become the right man. Please, please, do not underestimate how much work you've put in to become the right man for another person.”

"I want to go home and cry for an hour or so."

"I wish Emma was here for you."

I shook my head with a grimace, "It's going to be ugly until I get it out."

"Yes. I think Emma would want to be there to hold you and you'd find more acceptance and comfort in that than you can imagine."

At home, I grabbed a beer, sank down in my favorite chair, and cried. I felt everything all at once but fought to untangle the threads. Sad was remnants of the past and dissipated quickly. Its friends regret and shame fought a little harder to stick around, but they were toxic and needed to go. Pride and relief were together too. Celie was right. I had worked hard. An infinite number of hours had gone into figuring myself out. There have been so many times I thought I'd be stuck forever. Sometime in the last two years that I've been without a girlfriend, all the work must have come together. In the last two years I've been filming almost nonstop. Five movies have come out. Two of which were Marvel circuses. It's like all the therapy (and the work that goes with it) knitted me back together while I was busy filming and living my life. Celie had told me to trust the process. I couldn't rush it or make changes happen before it was time. Patience. I am inherently impatient. Pride was for the work. Relief was for seeing results. Finally.

Next was happy. I’m in a good place. I'm excited about the movie I’m making. I have supportive, fun friends, and a loving family. I don't need a girlfriend to be happy, but one does bring everything together. I like having a person who is mine. Mine in the sense of us experiencing life together. The good and bad. I like that. I want that. And now I have it. The beginnings of it, anyway.

After I pulled my shit together, I wanted to talk to Emma. I wanted support. Maybe not support, but I felt raw. I wanted someone to soothe the raw nerves, to sit with me while all this new stuff integrated. I wish she was here. What I needed was a hug.

Sebastian ~ Can you talk?

I don't like that I asked. It feels insecure and I have zero reasons to feel insecure. I quickly decided to cut myself some slack.

My phone rang and I connected to FaceTime. "Hey." Her bright smile and obvious happiness to see me did wonders to soothe those raw nerves.

Emma's face went from a smile to wide-eyed concern. "Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look like you've been crying. What happened?" Before I could answer, she jumped to a correct conclusion. "You had therapy. Good, bad, or cathartic tears?"

"Mostly the last one."

Her hand went to her chest, "Ok." She picked up what I assumed was her iPad and crossed to the chair in her bedroom. I could see her pull her knees up when she put her feet on the ottoman. She rested the iPad on her knees.

"Mostly a repeat of what we talked about Sunday. Celie said I wasn't giving myself enough credit for the work I've done. My growth."

As Emma had alluded to the same thing, I expected a smile or some acknowledgment of her asking if I was different. Instead, I got, "What do you think?"

"I think I still need to work on not being so hard on myself." I smiled because that statement was me still being hard on myself. "When Celie pointed out how I've changed I could see it and was proud of myself. I can’t see it on my own yet, but I'll get there. I never thought anyone would get past my walls. It wasn't someone getting in, it was me getting out." More goddamned tears.

Emma reached out and touched the screen. "I‘m so happy for you. Proud of you too."

Her words felt like a hug. Close enough for now. "Thank you."

"I know you're a grown man, but I wish I was there. Crying alone sucks."

"Oh," I laughed a little, "the chances of us having a messy reunion are high."

"Why?"

"A lot of you and I talk today. I know me, it's gonna hit me when I see you."

"I should warn you. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."

I smiled at her exaggerated southern accent with the "Steel Magnolias" quote. "See ... gonna be messy."

[pennys-th0ughts]

Robert Gray - The Origin of Pennywise 🤡 Chapter 1

Papers were scattered all over the desk and the dim light coming from an old oil lamp was fluttering in a lonely corner of the room. It was raining outside one cool November night of the year 1873 and the cobbled streets of Derry were almost empty. The sky was black ink like and the moon was bigger than usual. I was sitting on my armchair next to the window watching the last persons leave the street heading to the warm refuge of their homes.

The rain drops crashing against the window were falling down the glass getting thinner and thinner until the rain became a light drizzle. My eyes were focused on an old naked tree which had been stripped from all its leaves; it seemed to be dead since a crow was holding onto one of its branches looking erratically sideways. A seemingly endless night had woken up from its brief nap time, wet weather made it longer but sometimes the fresh breezes get to cool down my unstoppable mind from overthinking.

Stores were closed and finally the silence took over the sidewalks as insomnia used to take over my tired body and restless mind. I was twenty five years old and I suppose it was an advantage to be that young and have no commitments yet while being the sole heir of the only medicinal store in town. I could use my freedom at will and do whatever I pleased, managing my times since I was my own boss at work. The burden of such responsibility fell down on my shoulders when my father passed away, a couple of years after my mother decided to leave us because of a serious case of fever that my father couldn’t cure. I guess he felt defeated for not being able to cheat death this time and the corrosive feeling of guilt was what finally submitted him one night during his sleep.

The formalities concluded and after an orderly ceremony, the family’s lawyer made me sign some papers, then it all became in some kind of beneficious curse I needed to keep on going in order to survive. My father was the only apothecary in Derry and he began teaching me from an early age the art of mixing drugs to create specific medicines, so my grandfather did with him and so on.

Business flourished when a new disease wave attacked the small town leaving many fatal victims and several people in a critic health state. The only hospital was packed and people who couldn’t get medical attention in this facility had to stay indoors to prevent spreading the illness. There is when I stepped in. During a whole month I wouldn’t stop preparing thousands of dosses commissioned by the hospital and many other wealthy families. I would end up working night and day to fulfill the town needs for medicine to cure diphtheria, soothe the pain and reduce the fever. I got to really enjoy my work, but one day I couldn’t take the overwhelming pressure anymore that made me snap, so I started looking for an assistant to help me out with the preparations and also someone to deliver them. Speeding up the delivery could definitely save other people’s lives.

Shadows of death were still lurking and swallowing everything in its path, turning the alleys darker and the houses emptier. The plague was spreading faster than we could cure it and the atmosphere in Derry was getting heavier with sadness and hopelessness. During the nights, streets looked like pathways to afterlife and the little oil lamps hanging at the entrances were like golden eyes, always watching and waiting.

Two days passed and interested people didn’t make themselves wait much longer and started to come to the drug store asking for the jobs. They were all willing to help but none of them fit with the qualities I was looking for. Until one day I finally found her, or perhaps she found me. Her features were as I imagined them and even better; she had little hands and long fingers, she was meticulous and careful. Her name was Charlotte Wise but she was known in town as Ruby, a well-deserved nickname since her hair was red as the stone. The day she came into the store everything changed, as if a sudden peacefulness had taken over the place. My new assistant would transform not only my work but also my life from that moment on.

Spring arrived after the dark days left Derry and its people slowly tried to get back to normal. Charlotte and I began having more time to spend in each other’s company so I decided it would be a good opportunity to teach her something new related to her job. We were still working as usual but the environment inside the shop had some kind of magic that was making it springier. Andrew, Charlotte’s younger brother, took the delivery job and he was doing very well, we didn’t receive any complaints about time or packages delivered in bad conditions. The boy was attentive and helpful, just like his beautiful sister. Agility was on his side and he was making a great use of it with the bicycle he got for the job. When work increased we bought a new mean of transportation so the boy wouldn’t get caught under the suffocating heat or merciless storms.

That year ended with a happy ending for Derry and we started a new one even happier. Charlotte and I had gathered enough money to begin a new life; she wanted to live with me so we bought a small but modest house two blocks away from the shop. Her brother would inherit his sister bedroom in their mother’s house so things couldn’t have settled down any better. I proposed Charlotte to be my wife one hot summer morning to which she merrily accepted. We got married at the chapel and later we had a delicious brunch under the willows of the park. That day and the ones that would follow would be memorable.

August, 1875

Charlotte’s contractions were getting more often and she will soon start her labor. We found out she was expecting later that summer which to me was like more wonderful news. I was in the middle of a preparation to help diuresis when someone came to the shop and let me know that my wife was in the operations room. I left Andrew in charge of the shop until I got back and rushed to the hospital taking the carriage; it will get me there faster.

I got to the Derry Public Hospital just in time to hold my wife’s hand and help her with her labor. Although she wasn’t looking so well she was doing an amazing job, showing her braver side, as always. The nurses were extremely careful and gentle; they were coming and going, taking wet cloths and other objects to the room.

After a long struggle Charlotte finally delivered a beautiful baby girl into this world. The doctor cut the cord and put her on my wife’s arms; he turned around and made me to a side to talk privately.

– Congratulations Mr. Gray – the literate man said squeezing my shoulder-. Your daughter is in perfect shape – he made a pause and, with a lower tone of voice added- but I'm afraid your wife is in delicate condition now. She has lost too much blood and she will require an intensive iron treatment to overcome the anemia she might possibly develop.

The doctor gave me a prescription with the steps to follow and a food diet, I thanked him for his advice and went back with my wife that had fallen asleep cuddling our child. The little girl was oddly quiet, she seemed confused and curious yet she was paying attention to her surroundings very carefully. I came closer to take a better look at my tiny wonder and took her little hand with my fingers that she immediately held on to firmly. My heart was pounding inside my chest like a machine out of control, making me sweat almost profusely. Nervousness, excitement and curiosity were a complex mixture, as the ones I was so used to prepare with the only difference that this one was totally out of my knowledge.

Charlotte was indeed exhausted and very pale but I could see the joy sparkling in her face. She made a huge effort to open her eyes which eyelids seemed too heavy. Once she could finally fix her eyes with mine, she grabbed my hand and made me sit next to her. She looked at me in silence for some minutes as if trying to dig up my feelings somehow and figure out what was going on inside my head. Slowly the light in her eyes started to fade away, like a candle about to be completely consumed.

– Promise me you will always look after her, Robert – she pleaded in a whisper.

I nodded bitterly without saying a word knowing that, deep down inside she was, in some way, asking me to do something she wouldn’t be able to do and she just wanted to be sure we would be okay. I stroked her cheek so tenderly that the very contact with her smooth skin made the tips of fingers ache. I hugged them both as if I was trying to protect them from the world and the coldness it owned, but my arms seemed not to be enough. Nothing seemed to be enough to replace the turmoil of divided feelings I was being prey of that very moment so, I did what I was the best at, I began mixing them just to find the balance between happiness and sadness, wholeness and emptiness.

Five years later

Snow was covering Derry like no other time of the year and streets looked like unpolluted highways to heaven. There were some children playing in the front gardens of their houses, some were throwing snowballs at each other and some others were building snowmen. Augustine was having a hard time building her snowman since the snow kept on crumbling or the little branches didn’t stop falling from their holes. I was watching her through the window and her persistence was one of the many reasons of my smile. I grabbed my coat and went outside to help her finish what for her seemed to be a colossal monument. She was almost six years old and her mother and I had the chance to pick a name for her which I will always be totally grateful for.

Christmas was near and I had already bought Augustine her present. Andrew would spend the holiday with us since I started to enjoy my brother’s-in-law company and her niece loved her uncle very much. He became a great help when Charlotte passed away and our daughter was still a baby, he would take care of her while I was working and making the deliveries from time to time.

After Charlotte died I didn’t feel the need to bring another woman to work to the shop and less to start a new relationship, the hollow she left inside me was big enough to be impossible to be filled with somebody else’s presence and the fact was I wouldn’t ever try to replace my wife no matter how alone I could feel. My queen left her throne and I had a princess making her way to occupy it someday and that, for some unexplainable reason, was already a whole challenge that I had gladly accepted the very moment I looked at this little girl into her eyes.

To be continued…

[distinguishednachotale]

Home

Soft music played in the background, Ed Sheeran’s voice playing softly while you folded small socks together. Occasionally you stopped to smell the soft fabric, the fabric softener leaving an aroma of lavender behind. You smiled to yourself looking around the nursery both you and your Husband had designed together, hours of online shopping while cuddled up together in your bed. Neither one of you wanting to share your pregnancy with the rest of the world, you wanted to keep this time and this moment between you both. Grey walls, with white panelling on the longest wall where an oak timber cot was pushed against it. Two name plaques sat in the wardrobe for the known-gender baby, one for either option waiting to be hung above the cot after the baby arrived.

Of course you left the house, the clothes you wore before your pregnancy were typically oversized and flowing, no one was the wiser of your abdomen slowly growing over the last thirty five weeks. The week before you had been sitting on the soft plush carpet watching your Husband hang artwork on the wall, laughing as he tried to get it as even as he could.

You often found Taron laying on the tufted rug when he wasn’t working just taking in the ‘feel’ of the nursery, thinking about all of the memories he was looking forward to making with his Son or Daughter. Often he would emerge with a small change he wanted to make to the Nursery, a question for to ask the Midwife at the next appointment or just came out to tell you how excited he was to meet your child. You had travelled with Taron while doing press work for Rocketman, you were early on in your pregnancy dealing with mild morning sickness but it would strike at any stage during the day. Whenever Taron heard you become ill he would sit near you, knowing you hated nothing more than being touched while you were sick. When you were done he would pass you mouth wash rub calming circles on the small of your back while you leaned into him for a hug.

He was born to be a Father, you knew this from the moment you saw him with his younger sisters. A natural paternal instinct was always there. Interrupted from your thoughts, a pair of arms crept around you core and a warm body pressed gently against your back.

“Love, it’s two o’clock in the morning, you should be resting.” Soft lips pressed against your temple, lingering as he took in the scent of your freshly washed hair. “How long have you been awake for?” He worried about you, the last three or more nights you had been woken up by pains - surges you preferred to call them. They always fizzled out, your Midwife assured you they were just practice contractions and pre-labor pains that could last for weeks.

“I’m okay, just the same as last night.” You smiled, turning in his arms while your small yet round abdomen pressed lightly against his stomach. “It’s already slowing down again.” Standing on your toes, you wrap your arms around his neck swaying and humming as another surge comes over your body. Knowing what you need Taron sways slowly with you, closing his eyes and not wanting to watch your face while you’re in pain. As much as you hid the pain behind your emerald green eyes, he knew you better than anyone else and knew the subtle signs of your pain. The way you played with your own fingers on the nape of his neck, the way you turned your head slightly to the side with a slight frown, the small gaspy breaths occasionally.

Throughout the last thirty five weeks, Taron had watched you read and listen to podcasts about calm birthing, wanting to keep this entire pregnancy as calm and natural as possible. Initially you had mentioned a home birth, Taron was deeply concerned about this, eventually you both agreed on a birthing centre focused around natural births instead of a clinical hospital environment. Before pregnancy you had fueled your body with healthy foods, occasional treats and always a bottle of water by your side while Taron found it harder to deny himself sweet treats. Throughout the pregnancy he watched you as you kept fueling your body to grow your little Human as strong as possible, you kept moving your body while doing pregnancy yoga and always kept your pregnancy glow. He felt pregnancy suited you in every way possible.

“Take me to bed?” You yawn against his chest as the surge passes. The two of you made your way back to the king sized bed, but only briefly as another build up of pain begins in your body the minute your head hits the pillow. Natural instinct kicks in, you find yourself on your hands and knees rocking slightly to alleviate the pain in your back.

“That wasn’t long between, love. Only three or so minutes. Do you want me to run a bath and call Gracie?” Shaking your head he continues, “I think we need the midwife to come check you, love.” He insists, as you hum through the longer lasting pain. Knowing what you need is warm water around your aching body Taron runs he bath anyway, keeping it at a safe temperature he helps you remove your sleepwear and lower into the bath. Another surge, even closer. “Love, tell me, how long has this been happening?”

“An hour or so,” You confess, groaning as you rise to your knees. “I thought it would stop.” Taron removes the shower head and holds the tap so warm water splashes directly on your lower back. The pain is increasing with each surge, the contractions coming closer together.

“Gracie is on her way…” Taron steps back into the bathroom to see you have removed yourself and are leaning against the bathroom sink, wearing nothing but your silk bathrobe. The small noises coming from your lips let him know you’re in the midst of another contraction and wouldn’t be able to form words. He did however notice a constant flow of water running down your legs, a slight hint of pink tinting the white floor mat. The books told him amniotic fluid could be pink tinged, it wasn’t a worry. “I guess this is time, Arlie.” He says to you as you rise slightly, a smile making its way back to your face as the contraction ends. Looking up at the mirror before you, you see your Husband standing here in nothing but his sweatpants.

“How far off is Gracie, Taron? Because I need to push.” You groan, more pain pushing through your body and an intense pressure suddenly appearing. Panic hits like a tonne of bricks, holding your hand he lowers you to the ground gently. Without hesitation he calls for emergency help, he knows Gracie is a good forty or more minutes away but a paramedic team could be here in five minutes. “This isn’t the plan, Taron, this isn’t the plan.” Small sobs escape your lips, the calm you had felt for the last hour and a half is out the window. You’re scared. This is too early at thirty five weeks, your Midwife isn’t even here, it’s happening much too fast. Everything is a blur.

“Arlie, look at me, take a deep breath okay. The paramedics are on their way, lights and sirens. You can do this, Love. You have been preparing your body for this for months. I’m here.” Opening your eyes to meet the eyes of your Husband, he has put his own fears aside to get you through this. On the other end of the phone you can hear the voice of a woman asking Taron questions, he nods at you and helps open your legs for him as you lean back. Nothing about this felt unnnatural, some woman would hate to have their husbands look while in labor, but you feel nothing but safe with Taron. “… no I can’t see a head, but I can see…” He trails off, his stomach sinks and his blood runs cold. “Ma’am I see a foot, I think. Please tell them to hurry.”

You let out a choked sob, another contraction and the urge to push becoming stronger as you fight against it. You know you cannot push, you need a medical team here to save your baby.

“Sir we have an emergency team coming now, they should be minutes away. One of the medics on board is a maternity specialist.”

Something gives and your body begins to involuntarily push, you breathe through it trying to not push but as your body betrays your mind it cannot be stopped.

“… okay, love I need you to push as hard as you can. We have to get the baby out.” Locking eyes with Taron you shake your head, no. “Arlie, look at me, you are strong. You need to do this.” A small cry escapes your lips as you push with everything that you have, a hand presses against your vagina as instructed to try and prevent tearing. “Okay the feet are out,” Another pain surges through your body and you moan softly pushing with everything that you have, no movement from the baby further out as you feel sweat beading on your forehead. You pull yourself up with your Husband’s help, knowing gravity could help you both Taron kneels beneath you as you squat slightly and push again. The pain becomes unbearable, a burning pain you cannot describe has you panting louder than before.

“Yes Ma’am, the body is coming out…” Your legs shake slightly as you bare down, and feel a release. “It’s here, it’s here…” He says into the phone as you look down to see Taron cradling a baby in his hands, he is rubbing a towel over the little one to try and get a noise from it.

You can vaguely hear the voice on the other end of the phone asking Taron questions, you can feel paramedics lower you to the floor safely but you cannot hear your baby cry. All you can feel is a heaviness take over your body as your eyes force themselves closed.

“… is doing well, responding to everything very well for thirty five weeks. I’ll bring the baby by shortly.” The unfamiliar voice explains.

“Thank you.” Hearing the familiar voice of your husband and his hand over yours beckons you to open your eyes to see him. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” You rasp, your throat dry. “I guess we had that home birth.” You smile softly, your eyes welling up. Not from happiness, but sadness and shock. The birth had been fast, much faster than you anticipated. You had no idea the baby had turned breach, a foot first birth would have had you at the hospital with the first pain had you known. “I’m so sorry..”

“Shh, no no. Don’t be sorry Arlie, you were so brave.” Warm lips press against your hand as he squeezes reassuringly, that’s when you notice the two IV’s you have, one in either arm. “You’re having a transfusion at the moment, Love. You lost a lot of blood after the placenta came out. Plus some fluid to keep you hydrated.”

“Is the Baby okay?”

“Yes, Love. She,” He beams with excitement telling you the gender of your baby. “is absolutely perfect. Tiny, though. I had no idea how little she would be.”

”What does she weigh?” Wincing as you sit up a little, pain radiating around your pelvis. Helping adjust you in the bed, he proudly tells you your little girl weighs a tiny four pounds eight ounces but has a head full of black hair. Nervously Taron did tell you that despite him doing what he was told, he was unable to prevent you from tearing and you were now sporting stitches to help you recovery, you could see he felt awful about it. “Honey, you’re not a Doctor. You got our Daughter out, I don’t mind a few stitches-”

“It’s definitely more than a few…” He cringed biting his lip.

“Hello, there’s someone here to see you!” Looking over you both saw a middle aged woman in cheery scrubs wheeling in a bassinet with a small bundle in it. Taron adjusted your bed and pillows to help you sit up comfortably, he helped lower your gown slightly so you could have your daughter cradled against your skin. Taron placed the sleeping infant onto the bed, taking the swaddled blanket off her and placing your daughter gently against your waiting skin before placing the blanket back over her back for warmth. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in her tiny features, she had your dark hair, Taron’s ears, your olive skin and his nose.

The click of a cellphone camera capturing this moment drew your attention up to Taron, tears welling in his blue eyes as he saw his two girls having their first moment together. Taron had gotten to hold your daughter skin to skin the whole way to the hospital while you were being tended to in the ambulance. The entire time he stared at her in total disbelief that he delivered his daughter on the bathroom floor.

“So next time,” Taron starts. “Lets get you to the hospital when the pains first start.”

“That sounds like a great idea Midwife Taron.” You tease with a smile.

[firethebluesky]

The Night Watch

Stepping out of the hazardous ruins at night is a most peculiar feeling. After the intense humidity of the sewer-like dungeons, the cold air seems balmy. Of course, temperature is the last thing in your mind right now. There's sweat running down your cheek, blood under your nails, and slime matting your hair to your forehead. With dirty fingers, you coax your hair into a ponytail, letting the cool night air dance across your sweaty skin. A slight breeze blows up from the Portia River, instantly sending chills up and down your spine. Usually, when you're out at night, you bundle up tight, covered in wool coats, furry scarves, and knit hats. But not tonight.

You slowly peel off the top half of your overalls and tie the straps around your waist. Then off comes your dirty, ripped flannel. Upon closer inspection, you notice a long, jagged gash in the sleeve that wasn't there before, which makes you curse worse than Sanwa on a boat. That was your best flannel! Sturdy, yet comfortable. Colorful yet stylish. You wore that shirt with everything. Still muttering profanities under your breath, you promise to sew up the hole the minute you get home tonight, and tie it around your waist as well. You shiver a bit in just your tank top, but at least you're not dying from heat now.

You take a seat on the steps in front of the ruins, stretching your legs out in front of you in an effort to get comfortable. The moonlight illuminates every cut and scrape on your arms and chest, causing you to take inventory of every single one. Most seem inconsequential, save for one rather deep cut in your upper arm. Luckily, Phyllis sent you a first aid kit in the mail a couple weeks ago, and it's just been sitting around, waiting for you to use it. You brought it along, not thinking you'd need it. Yet here you are, blessing the gods and the wonder that is Phyllis for it. Cleaning out the dirt hurts like the devil, and if you didn't think you'd wake up the whole town, you'd be screaming. You wrap a medicated bandage around the wound, and immediately sigh with incredible relief.

Taking a moment to yourself, you lean back, admiring the full moon and glistening stars. You can't help but wonder if there's life beyond the world you know. All your life, you believed that what was left of the world before Peach was just remnants. Leftovers for you to find and use. It never occurred to you that those leftovers might be alive. And yet, not three days earlier, space stations come crashing down around you. Robots come alive with no knowledge of the modern world. Who knows what else could be up there? The uncertainty scares you. There's just so much you don't know.

You sigh and push yourself back up. There's not enough time in the day for you to be worrying about robots and extraterrestrials. There's work to be done. You pull over your pack from where it lay on the ground, and pull out your spoils. You laugh softly. When you first arrived in Portia, delusions of grandeur clouded your mind. You expected to be walking out of the ruins clean and unhurt, arms full of precious gems and valuable metals. Past you would have shuddered at the state of your hands now. Past you would have snorted at the items you choose to pull off of the monsters you fight. Instead of sapphires and rubies, you search for power stones and blood stones. Instead of gold and silver, you look for rusty springs and old parts. Past you would laugh at your excitement over dirty machinery and tools. These days, though, you're finally happy. Hard work makes you happy.

You flip open the flap of your pack, and a wide grin splits your face. The fruits of your labor lay inside: vibrant blue crystals, cans of tempering liquid, springs, wrenches, vials of venom, and more fill your pack to the brim. Silicon chips are tucked into a small pocket on the side of your pack. But what you most proud of is the two industrial engines you found deep in the bowels of the ruins. You nearly died fighting that chemical dropout guarding them, but that iron sword you recently forged really made all the difference. Once you shoved the slimy corpse off of the platform he inhabited, the engines were yours. You wrapped them carefully in the thick scarves you made specifically for them before packing them away in your bag. You dig through your lot for a bit, already picturing all the things you'll make with these new materials. You thumb through the sleeves of the new disc holder you made to hold your data discs, admiring the way each one is proudly displayed behind a sheet of clear plastic. Petra called the holder a "binder", and told you that people once used them to hold important papers they didn't want to get ruined. You found about twenty data discs in there, each one carefully extracted from the corpses of defeated enemies and hidden chests, the slime and blood wiped away before being stored away. You're giddy with excitement over all the things you're going to build. If it wasn't so late at night, you'd rush home right now and get to work. There is this comprehensive grinder you've always wanted to try out.

You're just getting ready to head home when your remember just how disgustingly dirty your new sword is now that it's been through the sewers. You go to open the small pocket on the front of your pack, but realize too late that the last time you cleaned your sword, you forgot to put everything back in order. Tubes of soap, dissolving agent, and wax tumble out onto the ground, followed by dirty rags, a handful of whetting stones, and a small bag of clean cloth strips for waxing. You scramble after all of your tools, and once it's all set up in a somewhat organized fashion, you make quick work of the the blade, cleaning off all the grime and grinding away at the nicks in the metal. When you're done, you make sure you pack all of your supplies away in good order before strapping your sword to your back and setting off towards town.

The minute you step out of the collapsed wasteland, your shoulders drop and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. Even at night, you know you have to constantly be in your guard. Who knows what kind of monsters you'll encounter when the rest of the world goes to sleep.

You take your time walking down the cobblestone road into town, admiring Portia at night. Evidence of you and your contributions to Portia are visible everywhere: the Dee Dee stops you used regularly are lovingly maintained, and the street lights you installed brighten the streets and cast a beautiful golden glow onto the facades of the shops crowded around Central Plaza. You pause at the top of the stairs, taking some time to yawn and look out beyond the walls of Portia. Beyond their relative safety thrives a beautiful yet dangerous world. Beyond them lie Bassanio Falls, the Eufaula Desert, Amber and Starlight Islands, the harbor, and the Western Plateau. Portia is so much bigger than you pictured before you came. Now the world seems to be bursting with possibilities. Just thinking about it makes you exhausted. Or maybe you're just tired. Either way, you have to get home before you fall over.

You take a step down the stairs into Central Plaza, but are assaulted by a wave of exhaustion. Picking up your feet is so hard, and the weight of your pack weighs you down. Your eyelids droop dangerously, and in the back of your mind, you know you just have to get to the bottom and then it's a few steps more to the benches you can take a quick nap on. But you're just about to the bottom when your foot slips and you tumble down the last few steps, hitting your head on one of them, knocking you out.

---

Arlo was absent minded, riding back into Portia from South Block. Sam and Remington were equally braindead in their saddles, focused only in getting back to their homes in the city. As they crossed the bridge, Arlo's mind drifted to the weeks of work and upheaval Albert, Gust, Mint, and their respective teams put into the project. Most vividly, however, to Arlo's surprise, he remembered the new builder. They had truly come to life in the process of building up South Block. They flew back and forth between projects like one of those tiny Skipper birds flew back and forth from flower to flower. It was like watching a whole different person work.

It had taken a few months for them to get used to life in Portia: Arlo didn't think they were used to working so much. The early days were filled with complaining and stomping. They didn't even want to get their hands dirty. But what was so impressive was how talented they were. The new builder easily adapted to new projects and ideas. They put such care and precision into their work. New blueprints never fazed them- anything Presley put them up to, they delivered, time and time again.

Things started to change when the river was poisoned. It was the first project, Arlo realized, where the new builder felt a duty to Portia to help, not simply for monetary gain. They flourished, taking more pride in their work than ever. And now, most recently, he had watched from afar during the bridge project, as they welded together steel shells and frames, built buses and windmills and power generators, and attached cables and lights. South Block was built up at an incredible rate, faster than even Gust, ever the over achiever, had planned.

Arlo was brought out of his daydreaming when Sam let out a gasp. Arlo swept his eyes around the Plaza, looking for danger, adrenaline racing. But what he saw scared him more than a potential threat. The new builder lay on the ground, mechanical parts strewn around them, backpack open and empty. A small dark pool of what looked like blood saturated the ground around their head. The three of them bolted forward, but Arlo got to them first, swinging himself off of his horse, using his momentum to run to their side. He signaled to Remington and Sam to search the area for enemies, before turning his attention to the new builder. He checked them for spinal injuries, and upon finding none, he rolled them over to check for more injuries. A large welt on their forehead indicated a fall, and the sprawl of their supplies meant they fell from a height. Arlo was sure they'd been attacked, especially when he found a bloody streak on the stairs, probably left when they were pushed down. Remington stepped up next to him, startling him.

"They haven't been here very long." Remington's deep voice broke the silence. "The attack must have been recent. Sam's doing her usual perimeter search." Arlo sighed. He was hoping to hear a different verdict from Remington, anything but an attack, but to his dismay, Remington agreed. He nodded vaguely before unclipping his first aid kit from his horse, settling down next to the new builder's side and wrapping their head wound in a bandage. As he did so, Sam came back, shaking her head.

"I got nothing," she said, coming to a stop next to Remington's horse. "It could have been anyone, anything. If they were attacked, whoever did it is long gone, and left no clues to who it was."

Sam's words sent a chill down Arlo's spine. He couldn't imagine someone wanting to hurt the new builder- once you got past their arrogant and egotistical exterior, there was actually a kind, caring, and deeply sensitive interior. They were hardworking and endearing and gorgeous and- what was he thinking?! He couldn't possibly be thinking these thoughts about the new builder, especially not now. He needed to be impartial and focused, not harboring feelings for the new builder. Feelings like that cloud judgement, Arlo thought, thinking back to the time Remington held a crush for Sam, and how anytime Sam went out on her own, he worried and babbled. Arlo wouldn't be like that, he couldn't. Not at the leader of the Civil Corps.

"Should we take them up to the clinic? Wake up Doctor Xu this late at night?" Arlo thought aloud. Sam shook her head in agreement.

"We should-"

But before she could go any further, the new builder stirred and moaned quietly.

---

You slowly open your eyes, bright golden light streaming in and making your eyes water. You must have fallen asleep on the ground on your way home. But there's something wrong about this. You could have sworn you'd made it to one of the benches, but now you're definitely on the ground. And for as bright as the sunrise is, the sky is awfully dark. And your head, you're starting to realize, is throbbing with intense pain. What happened to you?

A dark shape appears in your vision, then two, then three. They look oddly human, but you can't tell in the light. A voice calls out to you.

"Are you okay?" It's a man's voice, deep and throaty. You open your mouth to speak, but find you can't. You nod instead, sending a sharp pain through your head. You go to sit up, but a hand pushes your shoulder back down.

"Don't move." The voice is distinctly feminine now. "You hit your head on the stairs." You moan again, and you feel a hand in your hair, massaging your scalp. The fingers are large and calloused, and your headache is almost immediately soothed by the rhythmic movements.

"I want to go home," you croak, hoping one of the voices will listen and take you back to your comfy new bed. The hand shifts, rubbing the back of your neck now.

"I'll take you," It's a new voice, though one you know quite well, one you're incredibly attracted to. Your eyes fly open, and you take in the scene around you. It's still late at night, judging by the position of the moon in the sky. The golden light you saw was just a nearby street lamp. Remington is pacing back and forth at your feet, looking deep in thought. Sam sits cross legged next to you, head in hands. Arlo kneels by your head, hand deep in your hair, massaging you gently.

"We can't take her home," Sam protests, looking earnestly at Remington. "They clearly needs a doctor's attention."

"It's just a headache," you say, to no one in particular, really. Remington laughs softly.

"It's hardly just a headache." He says to you. "We think your were attacked coming down the stairs. Doctor Xu needs to assess your condition and make sure there's no lasting damage."

You clear your throat to speak better. "I wasn't attacked. I was just too tired and fell asleep on my feet." And you're about to fall asleep again if you stay here any longer.

There's a moment of stunned disbelief before Arlo bursts out laughing. You hear a vague mumble of "only you" under his laugh. Sam and Remington join in as well, and you feel your cheeks blush in embarrassment. You watch as Arlo and Sam stand, repack your burgeoning backpack, and strap it onto Arlo's back. Arlo comes back to you, and slides his hands under your legs and back, holding you close to his chest as he picks you up. You curl into his chest as he says goodbye to Sam and Remington, sending them home for the night. As he walks away, your feel your eyes drooping once again, this time the gentle rocking motion of Arlo's footsteps lulling you to sleep.

"I love you," you murmur deliriously until Arlo's jacket, not really noticing what you're saying. Arlo's arms tense around you, and his steps falter a bit, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken under your ear. But you fall asleep before you can say anything else.

[xwomanscornedx]

TW: domestic violence, assault, gas-lighting, trauma

I officially “met” my ex fall of Sophomore year.  We knew “of” each other before hand, but had not really had any reason to hang out or talk prior.  We had both won lead roles in our high school play, and ended up having a few scenes together.  During the several months of rehearsal, we learned we had a lot in common and were “sympatico” in many ways.  He would start a joke, and I would finish it. In improv, one of us would begin a scene and the other could pick it up perfectly. We both sang and played guitar.  He started a band.  I started an entertainment company, ect.  At the time, he was dating a friend of mine so obviously we never went past casual acquaintances because I’m not the type to interfere in a relationship – but I did develop a light crush.  After high school we stayed in contact. Sometimes he would stop over, have a beer, and watch something stupid or play video games. Other times, we just shared memes on Facebook. Two years ago, we reconnected while we were both going through hard times. We had hung out before, so I didn’t think anything of him inviting me over to hang out and have a beer.  We walked to the store, and on the way back he gently held my hand.  We got back to his place, and he pushed me against his van and kissed me hard.  From then on, we were inseparable.  After only a few months, we officially moved in together and for a while, everything was great.  Honestly, the best relationship I’ve ever had.

We were intense.  He confessed that he’d had his eye on me for quite some time, and it was like all the pent up feelings between us were coming out in full force.  Being with him felt so good, almost intoxicating.  We had plans to buy an RV when we both retired and travel the country. Hell, we were even at the point where we were looking at houses together.  He wanted his own shop, and the plan was for him to take care of the technical aspects (lead mechanic, hiring, orders) and I would handle the business aspects (payroll, customer service, bookkeeping).  I truly believed that we were each other’s happy ending.  Sadly, this was temporary.

The abuse began gradually.  I have compared it several times to a frog in boiling water.  If you put a frog directly in boiling water, it will jump out and run.  However, if you put a frog in luke warm water and slowly turn up the heat, it will eventually boil to death before it realizes it’s in danger.  Things started small:  Little comments about my weight or abilities, drinking more and more, taking the change from my change jar, ect.  Over the next year and a half, things got worse. Eventually, he was breaking things and punching walls. He would get so drunk that he couldn’t form complete sentences.  During this time, I was trying desperately to help him.  I had known him for so long and truly believed that if he just quit drinking, everything would be fine.  

Then the physical abuse began.  He broke my rib trying to crack my back, even though I begged him to stop.  He tried to set me on fire in our bathroom.  He would wake me up by pissing on my face when he was angry with me. Once, he got so mad at me for taking too long in the bathroom that he busted the door open, grabbed me by my hair, and threw me out.  I landed on my tailbone and cracked it.  To this day, I still have issues.  I performed in the Vagina Monologues with two black eyes because he was mad I was acting again and he wasn’t.  By our two year anniversary, I had quietly accepted that I would die in this apartment.  My friends had all but stopped talking to me, he cost me every job I had either by forcing me to quit, making it impossible for me to sleep, or showing up drunk and causing a scene so I couldn’t afford to leave him.  

This next paragraph is very triggering.  If you are sensitive to topics of violent rape, please don’t read this  Move on.  Scroll down.  Because yes, he did.  Sometimes, it wasn’t that “bad” I guess.  He wouldn’t allow me to sleep on the bed if I wouldn’t perform for him.  He would throw my pillow on the floor and make me sleep there, and sometimes if I was lucky I could just opt for the couch instead.  One thing was for sure, when he was in those moods it was my choice to either have sex with him or find somewhere else to sleep in my own home.  Other times, I wasn’t so lucky.  The worst one I only have vague clips of memory from.  I can’t even remember how we got to this point.  But I do remember him on top of me, spitting in my face, and screaming how much he hated me.  I started to cry because it hurt.  I was bleeding.  I was begging him to stop and praying for it to be over quick if he didn’t. And he just hawked a loogie in my eye and put a pillow over my head so he “wouldn’t have to look at that (my) ugly face”.  I cried so hard I eventually just went out of my head.  I wasn’t there, mentally, and honestly don’t remember much after that moment.  I know he was eventually tired of me and pushed himself away from me to sleep.  In the morning I was so sore it was hard to walk.  Hard to pee.  Hard to wear underwear.  I wanted to die.  

Honestly, there’s more abuse than even this.  Some things, however, are still too painful to discuss and some I am remembering slowly.  As anyone who has worked with trauma victims before will tell you, our brain blocks out some things that are just too much for it do deal with.  It’s known as cognitive dissidence.  

On July 25th, we had another fight.  I wanted to go to bed early because I had a 9am interview.  He wanted to stay up, listen to music loudly, and have sex.  One thing you may or may not know, I am sterile.  I can’t have kids.  I tried to sleep through him, but about an hour after I laid down he barged into the bedroom, turned on all the lights, and began grabbing at me and telling me how he was going to “breed” me.  I pushed him off of me, which made him very angry.  He was already close to two six packs in by this point.  He immediately jumped on the bed and began punching me repeatedly.  Somehow I managed to grab my mace and sprayed him with it.  All this seemed to do was make him angrier.  He jumped me again and rubbed the mace on my eyes and inner thighs before finally collapsing from pain by the back door.  I managed to force my eyes open enough through the pain to reach the kitchen, grab the milk, and lock myself in the bathroom where I called 911.  

The entire time I was waiting for the cops, he was pounding on the door threatening to bash my head in with a hammer.  Since he had used a hammer multiple times to beat down the back door or put holes in the ceiling, I 100% believed that if he got that door open before the cops got there, he was going to kill me.  Thank God the cops got there quickly and he was arrested.

Between that day and his trial at the end of October, he broke the no contact order repeatedly with phone calls, voice mails, texts, and even emails. Hearing him tell me time and again that he loved me and wanted to change for me was heartbreaking, because I was (and still am) madly in love with him.  But trauma bonding is real.  I managed to stay strong and move forward.  It was hard.  The first few months I didn’t even know where rent would come from.  But my friends and family came together and kept me afloat enough that I made it through.  

Money issues aside, I started playing Minecraft while watching PewDiePie Minecraft videos.  It may seem dumb to some, but it made it feel like I was playing games with someone.  Like there was someone always with me so I wasn’t so alone.  I slowly fixed all the holes and broken things in my apartment, and even repainted some of the furniture to make it my own style.  I called my mom daily (Mom, I’m so sorry.  I know how annoying I was) and slowly went out more to see people who cared about me.  I even managed to get a job in the warehouse of [REDACTED] and found solace in the manual labor I did there.  I became the second best truck thrower in the building – second only to my boss’s boss.

I’m also still learning just how deep this has broken me.   A friend recently asked everyone to comment one of their talents, and I honestly couldn’t come up with anything.  I feel like I have no talents or anything special that makes me worthy of existing.  I still say things like “I know I’m not a catch or anything...” and think that when guys are nice to me, it’s because they pity me. It’s like this constant self doubt – even self hate – that taints every aspect of my life.

So that’s it. That’s why I’ve been so quiet.  He took a plea deal and will have to complete intense addiction therapy, and be on probation so strict he won’t even be able to fart without [REDACTED] County’s permission. But as for me, I’m damaged right now, but filling my cracks with gold one day at a time.  I’m in therapy and planning my first vacation since being free.  I’m getting my entertainment company back up and running. But every day I fight his voice in my head telling me I’m not smart enough.  Not pretty enough.  Not thin enough.  Wondering what I did to make him so mad?  Wondering why he stopped calling me his “sweet girl”.  He used to ask me to get him coffee in the morning before work.  I would smile and say jokingly “And what makes you think I’ll do that?” and he would reply “Because you’re a sweet girl” and kiss me on my forehead. I miss that, but not enough to go back to a place where I looked at death as my only escape from him.

[mimi-love-4ever]

Summer Heat

SasuSaku Month 2018 - Day 13: Summer Heat Rating: T+ (Language) Context: Non-massacre, non-shinobi AU A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you like it! Here’s the previous prompt, Day 12 (Dinner).

Sasuke was carrying a bucket of paint and a tray of brushes the first time he saw her. He blinked several times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Pastel pink hair and alluring green eyes. She was talking animatedly with his uncle Obito near the front gate of the house as she swept her strangely colored hair up into a ponytail. Since he had his earphones in, he failed to hear what she was saying, but whatever it was it had his uncle howling with laughter with the way he was bending over and slapping his knee. It honestly looked like he was dying from oxygen deprivation.

Whatever the girl said couldn’t have been that funny, he thought to himself, almost annoyed.

He forced himself to look away and kept walking towards the end of the fence where he was supposed to start painting first. When his uncle had convinced his parents to let him stay for the summer, to clear his head before college began, Sasuke hadn’t expected to be put to work. Obito had bought an old house in a nice, quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Konoha and had decided to renovate it as a summer project. So, honestly, he should have suspected he’d be used for free labor by his eccentric uncle. The only thing that had kept him from driving back home was that Obito had promised to teach him some martial arts, which is something his mother had forbidden him from learning when he was younger.

The next time he saw the girl with the pink hair, he was driving through downtown Konoha one afternoon. Obito had sent him to pick up something or another at the store like a little errand boy. He just happened to take a glance to the right at a stop light and saw her spinning on her tiptoes as easily as a breath of air. She was in a dance studio, alone. The passionate expression on her face caught him off guard. He couldn’t deny she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Which is why he grumbled to himself and sped out of there before anyone caught him staring. Sasuke was not in the habit of letting girls catch his eye and he did not plan to let it happen.

He arrived back at the house thoroughly annoyed, threw the shopping bag on his uncle’s table, and holed up in his room. He slipped in his earphones and spent the next couple hours trying to put that girl out of mind. He tried so hard that he ended up falling asleep to the image of sparkling viridian eyes, nonetheless.

It was almost a month into his stay when he ran into her again. Obito had left him a to-do list of things that needed to be done while he went into town for a few hours. Sasuke called bullshit because his uncle had been gone since early morning and he was stuck cleaning the stinky gutters as the sun blazed on mercilessly. Sweat trickled down his neck right down to his shirt, making it stick to his body uncomfortably. The heated up metal of the ladder he was standing on wasn’t helping the situation. He groaned in protest and decided to scoop one last patch of gutter gunk before calling it quits. Not even the music blasting through his earphones was helping him put the summer heat out of mind. He let the ball of gunk fall to the ground carelessly, where he could then pick it up better, when his ladder shook roughly and almost toppled him over.

Sasuke cursed loudly and looked down trying to find the source of the disturbance. His eyes widened in shock when he saw pink muddied locks, then a furious face with green eyes  shooting daggers at him. He ripped the earphones off and quickly climbed down.

“What the hell is your problem?” The girl exclaimed. “I was just trying to get your attention and you go and drop this shit on me!”

Sasuke winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you, or hear you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I figured,” she pouted and tried to get big chunks of gutter trash off her head. “Great, now I gotta go all the way back home and shower.”

“No, wait.” Sasuke surprised himself by saying and  looked away embarrassed. “Uh, why don’t you come in? You can use our bathroom.”

She raised an eyebrow at his boldness. “I don’t even know your name, buddy. You could be a killer for all I know, looking to kidnap girls like me.”

“Annoying?” Sasuke quipped.

“Young and full of life.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her reply. “Sasuke Uchiha. College-bound student, not a killer.”

“Oh, you must be Mr. Uchiha’s nephew!” Her eyes brightened as she stuck her hand out to him. “He hasn’t shut up about you, you know?”

“Great,” he grimaced. “I can just imagine the things he’s said.”

“Well, you don’t look stupid, for one,” she giggled. “Although, he did also mention you have a stick up your ass, so…”

You’re dead, Obito! Sasuke glared at the floor furiously. He could feel the tips of his ears burn red.

“Sakura Haruno,” she introduced herself, chuckling. “Now that I know you’re not a closeted killer, I wouldn’t mind using your bathroom, but I still got my eye on you.”

After their official disaster of a meeting, Sasuke found Sakura stopping by more often. She would try to get him out of the house any chance she got, but to no avail, so she ended up trailing after him and helping out. Once Obito found out what was going on he waited for Sakura to go home before laughing and teasing him relentlessly about her. Somehow his uncle got it in his head that he and Sakura would soon hook up, which is why he almost freaked out when two weeks later Sakura started pestering him about a party. A friend of a friend was hosting a party at her family’s summer house, about forty minutes away, and Sakura insisted he should go with her. Of course, he flat out refused, remembering his uncle’s teasing. That’s when Sakura had pulled out the big guns.

Her pink lips formed a pout as her viridian eyes widened slightly and she looked at him pleadingly. His thoughts betrayed him as he found her to be entirely too enticing for her own good. Needless to say, she played him like a damn fiddle.

Sasuke threw on a clean white t-shirt, jeans and a pair of black Converse and waited for Sakura to show up. Since he didn’t want to tip off Obito of the situation, he told Sakura they should take her car, to which she readily agreed. It seemed Obito had started teasing her too whenever he wasn’t paying attention.

At seven, on the dot, Sakura was pulling up in the driveway. She waved at him without getting off and he hurried over to the passenger seat. The drive on the way over was laid back with Sasuke simply enjoying the cool air from the AC beating away the heat of summer while Sakura played songs from her playlist and sang a long at the top of her lungs. She grinned at him and laughed every time he would complain about the too bubblegum pop songs she played, but he never once told her to shut up or change it. When they finally reached their destination an hour later, the party looked to be well underway already. Sakura parked down the street and was checking over her light make-up as he got out.

The second Sakura stepped out of the car, Sasuke knew this party was gonna be hell. He hadn’t noticed it when he got in the car, but Sakura looked good. Way, way, too good and damn it all if he didn’t find her insanely attractive. She wore a thin red, off the shoulder top that fell a little short and showed off a good amount of her flat stomach. It accompanished a tight, high waisted black skirt that stopped mid-thigh and a pair of black wedge sneakers that had a mesmerizing effect on her long legs.

“Do you think I look okay?” Sakura asked him, biting her lip, as she tucked a rose-colored lock behind her ear.

Sasuke had never felt so conflicted. He wanted to tell her that she looked amazing, but at the same time, he wanted to shove her back in the car and drive away so no stupid hormonal boys could look at her.

“You look fine,” he forced out.

“Oh,” she said. He could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes before it was gone and she smiled. “As long as I don’t look terrible. Come on, Sasuke, we need to loosen you up.”

As soon as they stepped through the door, Sakura was bombarded by a vivacious blonde who grinned like a Cheshire cat at her outfit and handed both of them a half-filled red cup. Ino, he remembered Sakura mentioning the name of her best friend. She wasted no time in pulling her into a throng of people in the middle of the large living room that were supposed to be dancing, but looked to be too tipsy for that. Hard paced music blasted from hidden speakers around the room while a strobe of light flashed every now and then.

He wasn’t the type to drink, but when he caught several leering glances directed at Sakura, he chugged the entire contents of the cup. Whatever it was tasted terrible and almost made him gag at the after taste. Although he hadn’t known Sakura for very long, he felt protective of her. It almost came at no surprise seeing as how there was just something about her that drew people right in.

Sasuke ended up in a corner, mostly to hide from the attention other girls were directing at him in the form of flirtatious eyes and not so subtle looks. He focused instead on Sakura and the big smile on her face as she danced. She had ditched the cup and had both hands thrown up in the air above her, her hips swaying sensually in time to the rhythm of the music. He lost count of how many songs Sakura danced to, but she eventually made her way over to him slightly out of breath and fanning her face.

Her eyes shimmered with excitement and her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. She looked at him with a certain intensity that made the room heat up a couple of degrees.

“Dance with me?” Sakura giggled, tugging on his arm.

“I don’t dance,” he replied, glancing at the tangle of people unamused.

“Oh, come on!” Sakura crossed her arms over her chest. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sasuke found himself muttering under his breath.

“I’m gonna go get another drink then.” She gave him one last hopeful look before maneuvering through the living room and out of sight.

Having nothing better to do, he followed Sakura to the kitchen area, pushing people out the way. He could never understand why girls tried clinging to him when it was obvious he wasn’t interested. All except Sakura, that is…

He shook away those thoughts and rounded the corner. The sight before him, however, made all those thoughts come roaring right back. Sakura was leaning against the counter, drink in hand, smiling and laughing as some guy was talking to her. He stood a little taller than her, which made him lean down closer to Sakura’s face to be able to be heard over the loud noise of the music. Too close. Sasuke found it incredibly hard to resist the urge to shove him away and punch that smug grin off his face.

I have no claim on Sakura. Sasuke repeated like a mantra over and over in his head.

The guy leaned down even further and whispered something in Sakura’s ear. He put his hand on the counter and placed his other on her small waist. Her eyes widened a bit at whatever it was that he said before an offended expression crossed her face. Sasuke was about to step in when Sakura lifted her arm and dumped the contents of her cup on top of the guy’s head.

“Asshole,” she snarled angrily and pushed him away.

The guy stumbled back, but managed to grab her wrist in a firm hold. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

In a flash Sasuke shot forward and gripped his arm tightly. He squeezed hard until the guy let go of Sakura with a groan of pain and fell to the ground clutching his arm. Sasuke ushered Sakura out of the kitchen, pushing past a small crowd that had gathered around them, and headed out the back door. Unlike the inside, the backyard was deserted and quiet enough to hear. Sakura stomped down a set of stairs and plopped down on the bottom step, fuming. Sasuke followed after her.

“Why are guys such jerks, Sasuke?” Sakura exploded. “Ugh, I swear, I always attract the worst.”

“That idiot, what did he say to you?” He asked a little curiously. He wanted to know whether he had to commit murder or not.

Sakura’s cheeks turned red, but it looked like more from embarrassment than anything. She huffed, “I’d rather not say.”

He frowned and figured it must have been pretty bad if she didn’t even want to tell him. Since he’s known her, she’s never held anything back. He also didn’t fail to notice the glossy shimmer in her eyes that signaled incoming tears.

“Forget that guy, he’s a loser if he can’t appreciate a girl like you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

She turned to him and felt the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Annoying?”

He smirked. “Young and full of life.”

A chorus of giggles fell from her mouth, turning into full blown laughter a second later as she remembered their first encounter and the very same words being spoken between them. A comfortable silence fell over them. Sakura enjoyed the cooling summer air and admired the stars above while Sasuke couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

“Hey, Sasuke?” Sakura broke the silence.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” she smiled so brilliantly, he thought his heart would stop. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Hn.”

Sakura laughed at his one-word syllable, but was overjoyed when she could discern more than that one word. Although Sasuke didn’t talk a lot or express his emotions as easily as she did, she was quick to pick up on just what exactly he was trying to say. Not for the first time, Sakura was glad she met Sasuke and more than happy that they had become friends. Friends…

Before she lost her courage, Sakura raised her head up and pecked his cheek. His warm skin felt like silk under her lips and sent a shock of electricity down her spine. She moved away and stared straight ahead, feeling a sense of shyness creep over her.

“Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun,” she whispered.

Sasuke sat frozen in his spot. The spot where she had kissed him blazed hot like wildfire and slowly spread throughout his body. He slowly registered her words and wondered if this was Obito’s doing. A faint blush reddened his cheeks as he tried to  figure out what to do or say. Frustratingly enough, his tongue twisted itself and left him speechless. Instead, he puckered up the courage and cradled her hand in his tentatively, giving her enough time to pull away if that’s what she wanted. She didn’t. Their fingers interconnected effortlessly, like two complementing jigsaw pieces.

“I’m really glad I met you, even if I never see you again after this summer,” Sakura said, every word ringing with sincerity.

“Don’t be annoying,” he stammered and squeezed her hand firmly. “We’re not going to stop being friends just because summer ends.”

“Oh yeah?” Sakura teased, her shyness melting away. “Can’t live without me, Uchiha?”

“I think you mean, you can’t live without me, Haruno,” Sasuke shot back easily.

Sakura poked him in the rib as payback and both erupted in laughter. The party was completely forgotten as Sakura launched into a story and Sasuke listened like he always did, while neither noticed their fingers were still interlocked.

[houselessnessdowntownpdx]

3- Interview with Pastor Bruce Arnold on Houselessness During Covid-19

Pastor Bruce believes that COVID-19 has “given steroids to the issue” of houselessness.  As community resources shut down there has been less access to food and water as well as internet access to find out “what is rumor and what is the truth”, electricity to recharge cell phones, and it is harder to access hygiene supplies and restroom facilities.  HomePDX has been tripling their efforts to help fill the gaps of other closed facilities. 

Pastor Bruce has been staying in a church and returning home only on weekends in order to be on the front lines helping the outdoor community. Something that personally impacts Pastor Bruce is being away from his family for long periods of time because of this. Pastor Bruce sees negative impacts due to COVID-19 as someone directly serving the houseless community. In our interview, he mentioned that the food pantry is no longer somewhere that houseless people can shop through, they have to point through a window at what they want now. Additionally, there is no more closet shopping for clothing items, it is something that has to be brought out to them. These things require more volunteers, as well as give houseless people less freedom of choice. Something that hasn’t changed due to COVID-19 is Sunday lunches, which happens to be outdoors.

Interview transcript:  Melody “What is your view on the topic we are talking about- on houselessness in Portland right now and especially since COVID-19 started?”

Bruce: “So COVID-19 has basically just been giving steroids to the problem...and...I mean we’ve had people living outdoors in Portland as long as we’ve had Portland. So it’s not a new problem, it’s not a unique problem. What happens is there’s this eb and flow based on policy of where people live, how visible they are, how concentrated they are. So, what happened with COVID, I actually, I kinda saw this coming way back in March of last year and I negotiated with this church that I’m in right now, First Christian Church, to lock down in the church if there was a lock down, so that I could be on the front lines helping our people instead of hiding away at my house. Thought it might be 4-6 weeks, I’m still here, go home once a week and see my family, but I’m basically living downtown, and part of what happened is other people closed their doors and went home. We suddenly had a population that had less access to food, almost no access to water at the beginning, no where to charge their phones or get on the internet and figure out what’s going on, what’s rumor and what’s truth. Fewer showers, all those other fun things. So we basically tripled what we were doing in the space of a week to try and fill some of those gaps.”

Stephanie: “What other groups are you working with on this issue?”

Bruce: “So...there’s a whole bunch of groups working downtown. Before COVID-19 I was told there’s 84 different groups that offer at least one meal a week in downtown Portland. So that’s what it takes to feed everyone who’s outdoors. I know that number has gone down, I don’t know entirely who’s still serving and who isn’t, but I work pretty closely with Clay Street Table. I have referral rights to Portland Rescue Mission. I’m on a first-name basis with the chaplain at the jail..and the chaplain at the police force, actually, so we’re partnering with a whole bunch of churches right now who are supplying us with resources and volunteers.”

Evan: “Yeah, so do you mind clarifying just a little bit what specifically you’re most involved in right now?”

Bruce: “Home PDX is chartered as a church, and I am officially a pastor. I don't usually throw that around unless I want to get inside a jail or a hospital. But we are first and foremost a community, and actually that's one of the things that COVID has really challenged because as we've stepped in to provide more services, people are starting to get confused as to whether we are a community, or a service provider and even in the midst of COVID, we are trying to concentrate on community. So I'm still walking around in the mornings on the streets with coffee, still walking into camps and seeing how people are doing and delivering food. Our biggest event is a Sunday lunch and because it's actually outdoors, we've never actually paused for COVID, we've kept delivering all the way through.”

Stephanie: “Which we at Outlandia miss doing”

Bruce: “Yeah, they’ve changed who is providing the meals, but we are still doing the meals”

Evan: “So working around COVID things, so you guys haven't had to pause your Sunday lunches, are there any specific events that you have had to cancel that come to mind?”

Bruce: “Not really, we have just had to reframe everything. So for example, we loved that people would come and walk through a clothing closet and shop for what they want, but we can't do that anymore, so we go outside, ask them what they need, go inside, grab a couple items, come outside, do you want one of these? It's a little more labor intensive but it's a lot less contact. We have a food pantry where people, again, get to pick what they want instead of just being thrown a box of whatever and instead of having them come indoors and do that, their looking through a window saying 'I want one of those, one of those, one of those'', we’ll pack the bag right there and hand it outside the door. So we are still doing services, even more service, but we are doing them differently. It slows things down, it takes more volunteers, but it still works.”

Melody: “I was going to ask, do you get any like funding from the state, or like private organizations?”

Bruce: “All of my funding is pretty much individuals, and churches, a couple organizations. We did get a COVID grant just to continue doing what we are doing”

Melody: “Was that federal or state?”

Bruce: “It was, I believe it was county. And Multnomah County also gave us one thousand masks to hand out.”

Stephanie: “So what are the issues that you are finding in some of the camps?”

Bruce: “Oh boy, thats so complicated right now. So early on in COVID the city made a promise to stop sweeping camps because they didn't want people to mix around and spread around and as a result, a whole bunch of tents showed up all over the place, especially downtown where we aren't used to seeing that many tents. So the big challenge now is, they are starting to sweep again, they are doing it very quietly, but how do we manage, I mean your question is talking about stakeholders, downtown businesses, the downtown church associations, hotels, restaurants, they've got a stake in what happens here, the county has a stake in what happens here, so the question is, how do we humanly let people live without letting them, sort of take over, and destroy the usability of the city. And what i'm finding is that there are a lot more tents in the city itself, there are a lot more camps showing up outside the downtown core, but i'm not sure, i'm not sure its a lot more people. It is some more people, but I think they are just more visible. Because they aren't getting chased as much, they don't have to hide as much, they are just much more visible.”

Stephanie: “So do you think they are congregating more?”

Bruce: “In the especially north town, like old town area, yes for sure. Out in the camps I think its about the same as it always has been. People do like to be in the camps where they can watch each others stuff and be a kind of pool of resources. The one change that i have noticed that i think is kind of interesting is just in the last couple of months, most of the camps have a car or two. They didn't use to ever have a car. And that I'm assuming is either newly outdoors, like just got kicked out of an apartment and drove and started camping, or in some cases it might be outdoor residents who have gotten a stimulus check and therefore gotten a vehicle.”

Stephanie: “I was thinking that maybe it was somebody that had lost their job, and then a couple months later lost their apartment, and then ended up outside in one of these community camps.”

Bruce: “My impressions is that is what it is. We are also seeing more RVs than ever before just parked on the side of the road in clusters.”

Stephanie: “So do you think that is because people have lost their jobs and income and in turn lost their homes? And they are turning to RVs?"

Bruce: “Yes. We’ve always had a certain number of RV campers, the city used to chase them around mercilessly, now they are allowing them to congregate in certain areas.”

Melody: “Have you noticed in those certain areas if there happens to be a trend about which areas they are allowing people to congregate at or is it kind of just random around the city? Is it in poorer parts of the city, wealthier parts of the city, that kind of thing.”

Bruce: “Its in areas where they’re not going to get chased out. So it’s not near a big store or a hotel or anything like that, its industrial areas, or abandoned areas. So one of them is on 33rd street for basically most of the mile south of marine drive, and there is nothing out there. One whole side of that street is just the airport property. So the city will come through about once a month and tag everything that is all broken down and unusable and will tow it away, but they aren't telling people to leave, they are just cleaning up after them to a certain degree.”

Stephanie: “Now, we as a group read an article about the Laurelhurst sweep in Street Routes. First of all, Ted Wheeler states that there were notifications put up two weeks in advance to the sweep. Have you seen notifications going up in any of the areas, warning them that it will be happening?”

Bruce: “So there is a statewide law that they have to give notice at least 72 hours before a sweep. So legally they are supposed to do that. It happens most of the time, not all of the time. What happens is they will put one up and they will immediately take a picture of it because within moments of their leaving, someone will tear it down. So you or I walking up to a camp seeing a notice is pretty rare. They do post it, they do let people know in the area that it has been posted. They will usually actually tell them “We will be here at 8 O’clock Monday morning”. They will tell them pretty specifically. Then when they show up its okay, its been posted, you've been warned, you have ten minutes to pack what you can pack, the rest of it is going in this dumpster here.”

Stephanie: "Another question, with the rapid response team that does come to clean, have you seen any altercations between the camps and rapid response? Or heard of any?"

Bruce: “I have not. So rapid response used to be the people who would do the sweeps. The cops would come through, get it started and then leave, then rapid response would do the sweep. The thing that has changed that i actually like is now rapid response is coming through and most of the time saying hey can we pick up the trash, tell us what's trash and we will take it away, they are not doing nearly as many sweeps. I actually talked to the guy that heads that whole bureau just last week actually, and he said they've gone from 15 sweeps a week to three. So rapid response has become better in terms of its worked together with the camps, let’s figure out where the trash is and we’ll take it away, but not let’s necessarily up end everybody and send them packing a couple blocks.”

Stephanie: "So in that article, it did state there are less sweeps, but there are also less garbage pick ups. Which is making the camps even more undesirable.”

Bruce: “That's true too. Yeah, so the reason we were talking to this last week was because we were trying to organize a thing where we are talking to people, we are getting into relationships, and they want to clean their camps up, so can we schedule a time for a garbage pick up? What rapid response is saying is right now is two to four days, we can't promise you a day. And what the camps are saying is you know, if we put garbage in a bag and put it at the curb, overnight that garbage is opened up and scrounged through and theres is garbage all over the place. So if you are saying two to four days, you are worthless. It's going to be a pile of trash, not a pile of garbage bags. And that's kind of what is happening and it does make the camps look really bad, the ones that are actually trying to clean themselves up, but rapid response isn't rapid anymore.

[amilynh]

Also, as far as comforting goes. How do you think Han would comfort Leia and vice-versa in said situation? Is there anger? Is there relief of some sort? What would you say are things they would/would not do regarding Leia's pregnancy? Is Leia miserably sick the entire time she's pregnant? Does she enjoy being pregnant? Does Han have doubts and worries? Do they fight about it at all?

Okay...so...pregnancy and pregnancy loss.

I...have no idea.  These questions are where I’m pretty useless.  I can see so many options.

I would believe a Leia who was terribly ill the whole pregnancy, who refused to get attached, who was afraid and faced it head-on as she usually does, who simply refused to behave ANY DIFFERENTLY just because she was pregnant DAMMIT (you know...like in Aftermath where she FLIES TO KASHYYK to rescue Han and Chewie while significantly pregnant and stays at the signing of the New Republic Accords WHILE IN LABOR...as one does, truly).  I would believe a story where she hates being pregnant.  I would believe a story where it is incredibly healing.

I think that Han and Leia would be entirely in character to terminate a pregnancy that they felt was not the right time or that was dangerous to them or the child...or even the Republic.  I would be entirely comfortable with them NOT making that choice (as, in canon, they chose to continue the oops-pregnancy that was Ben, something I’m also fine with).

I don’t think they would let a mere pregnancy change ANYTHING for them unless there were terrible health complications that MADE them have to sit up, take notice, and do something differently.  I think there would be teasing about various aspects of the weird thing that is growing one’s own young inside one’s body.

I can believe Leia marveling in pregnancy.  I was an adopted infant, and being pregnant was...it was extraordinary to me.  I didn’t have any stories from when my mother was pregnant.  My family didn’t have pregnancy stories.  My husband is adopted, too, and when we found we were pregnant with our first, I said, “Do you realize that neither of our mothers has ever been pregnant?”  It’s a surreal thing.

There is, for Leia, that loss; she can’t share her pregnancy with EITHER of the women who were her mothers.  The one who carried Leia...she is long dead, and Leia may not, depending on your choice of timeline, even know her name or anything about her.  Her MOTHER, the woman who raised her and held her and loved her every day...she is also long dead.  There is profound grief in going through a process that is about motherhood without a mother to share it with...without ANY mother to share it with.

I think that both Han and Leia will fell *intensely* the lack of parental figures as they head for parenthood. I think those losses, ones they usually don’t think much about, will haunt and tug at them like they haven’t in a very long time.  All the advice they might have gotten...they can’t.  All the support they might have gotten, the sharing of joy, sharing of sorrows...none of that can happen.  For Leia, at least she had loving, effective, supportive parents.  She has a model for parenting (one skewed by the subterfuge that was part of her family’s entire existence, but a model nonetheless).  Han doesn’t even have that.  He is *solo*...quite literally, and every indication is that he *has* been alone for the greater portion of his life, that, even if he remembers a parent, he did not have a parent by his early teens, and has never known reliable parenting nor had a parent in his adult life.

Wondering how to DO this terrifying, weighty, important thing...it’s even more terrifying when trying to do differently and better than our parents who screwed things up somehow.  Then there is the added fear of genetics.  Leia grew up identifying strongly with her adoptive parents, her adopted planet, her adopted people.  But now she KNOWS that her spitfire nature (which is ENTIRELY UNLIKE her parents, and which, certainly, they worked with her on managing), comes from her genetic parents...and is therefore something she not only can, but--especially with Han as the father and his own stubborn streak and tendency toward impulsiveness (which Leia has too: see speeder on Endor)--is LIKELY to pass on.  And if that impulsivity and rashness and temper and stubbornness is passed on...if her ability in the Force is passed on...what if she has a demon child?

My brother was a demon child, and my mantra through both pregnancies was that my children would share no DNA with my brother.  It was one of the most important aspects of overcoming my fear of having children based on demon siblings.  Leia doesn’t have that reassurance; it’s the other way ‘round for her.

Even so, my PTSD was rooted in boys and men and being terrified of them.  I had a very VERY hard time with my second pregnancy...not physically (though I was more tired since I was practically literally pregnant for 2 solid years; my kids are 10 1/2 months apart and, OH, I was depleted for pregnancy #2), but psychologically.  I knew from about 20 weeks that I was having a boy, and I was SO AFRAID that I was going to have a demon boy-child (”They share no DNA.  They share no DNA.  This is not a rational fear.  They share no DNA...”) who would ruin my perfect little girl’s life.  Again...Leia doesn’t HAVE that reassurance.  Instead, knowing HER heritage, knowing that she is carrying a child who shares the DNA that she inherited from the man who tortured her, who held her in place while her planet and family were atomised...she CARRIES that trauma in her GENES now and, in pregnancy, in her womb.  And, simultaneously, her attitude will affect the child.  I was afraid that my increased depression would affect my son while I was pregnant.  I know now it actually *can* (see: cortisol levels).  I hoped that he couldn’t hear my thoughts, know my misgivings about him, even as I reminded myself he was his own person and Shared No DNA with the awful ones.  Leia doesn’t even have THAT reassurance, because there is the possibility--nay, likelihood--that her fetus, at least at a certain point, WOULD hear her fears and misgivings, her terror that she might be carrying a child who would become a monster like her father.  And, since I am a canon-whore and am fine with the TFA timeline...we know that is exactly what happens there:  her son DOES become a monster...one even more vicious and deliberately cruel than even Vader, who was more pragmatic with, “It’s in my way, kill it,” than Kyle Ron and his uncontrolled tantrums and massacres and murders Just For The Hell Of It.

Now...in terms of pregnancy loss (finally)...I think it depends on when the loss occurs.  I had two pregnancies, one past due, one delivered 5 weeks premature.  The emotional havoc that pregnancy and post-partum hormones wreak on one’s emotions and psyche and stability are indescribable.  I was controlling and PANICKY about the idea of my baby being out of my sight or someone NOT TOUCHING either of them at any point.  I wouldn’t let the nurses take them ANYWHERE without my husband or me there with them.  I wouldn’t let them circumcise my son unless they let me be there to hold his hands and kiss his head.  I couldn’t even bear to sit in the front seat driving home and was nearly physically *compelled* to sit in the back next to the car seat so I could touch the baby.  Four or five days later, my mom took me out shopping, and after 2 hours away from my daughter, I was sitting on the ground, exhausted, rocking, and desperate to get home and hold my baby.  When I got her into my arms when I got home, I immediately lay down with her on my chest and SOBBED for half an hour, frantically asking my husband, “WHAT IF SHE DIES???”

If I’d lost a child late in pregnancy or after having to labor to deliver and ready to meet a baby only to have the baby born dead...the emotional backlash would be overwhelming.  I can’t imagine it as anything other than crushing and entirely empty and despairing.

I think there would be some mourning together...but since people grieve differently and at different rates...it is HARD to grieve as deeply as the person you go to when you’re grieving because neither of you is able to be fully supportive because you’re both ripped apart.  I think Han and Leia would both TRY to be there for each other...but when you’re SO empty and exhausted and afraid and befuddled...it’s just HARD.  I imagine Leia would try to work enough to avoid the grief, just like she did with Alderaan, but I think she’d be unsuccessful in the end because those two losses would dovetail.  Han...I don’t have a strong hold on how he would respond.

With an early miscarriage...I can see Leia feeling slightly relieved, especially if she was still ambivalent.  I got pregnant twice after my two kids, once after each of my husband’s (ultimately unsuccessful) vasectomies.  Both times we terminated the pregnancies.  The first time I was sad, though certain, and after the hormone crash, I was better in about a week.  The second time I was matter-of-fact and while there was a hormone crash and it wasn’t just, “La-la-la...” I was, again, fine very soon.  I believe the first termination was about 11 weeks and the second one was 8 weeks or so.  The hormone crash that early in pregnancy, before as many changes in the body was MUCH less emotionally destabilizing than the hormone shifts after delivery.

Ultimately, in an early (pre-12 weeks) miscarriage, I can see a grieving Han & Leia, I can see them ambivalent, angry, relieved...any number of reactions depending on what you want for the story.  I think there are a plethora of reactions that could be believable.

With a stillbirth (anything after 22 weeks)...that is devastating, even if they *were* in some way still ambivalent, simply because it is biochemically so powerful.

I hope this helps.  It was certainly fun to write!

[max177blog-blog]

Little Known Respect to help VBUCKS

Xbox Live Gold 3 Months 1000 Fortnite V

Now for some latest exciting news: New leaks have risen online that point to snow coming to the road of Fortnite Battle Royale for the winter season. Getting a Fortnite account grants benefits, such as advanced hero classes, reliable sticks, along with a ready-made fort. As the heroes get stronger, the capabilities are increase with passive quality, and sure combinations these skills traits, which specialize the type to certain playstyles. To help reduce wasting money on an account with a character that isn't a good fit it's wise to make a little research by getting.

There are lots of free v bucks generator tools off here except they always require you to utter a questionnaire or to perform some strange device that will generally never labor with one does not understand what you reached for. This is a v bucks generator, no man verification needed. Just stuff in the system under and newspapers submit. The v bucks will be added right in to the Fortnite account.

Fortnite Battle Royale has been the biggest video game sensation in the last year. It is a event on multiple platforms that move up the combat royale genre to a new level compared to other sports associated with such value. The millions who enjoyed those games quickly jumped on board to Fornite because it was quickly similar to the movie Battle Royale of a class people sent to an area to wrestle till the last one is still alive. Like fresh games, there are cheat programming and cool style to help chop within, such as collecting V-bucks, or electronic go against, the online currency to travel and accept special weapons to raise the game level.

How to get free V-Bucks in Fortnite? Pleasing to Released the V-Bucks, all-in-one guide on all the ways of earning V-Bucks in Fortnite. Unfortunately, there is now extremely edge track to help generate V-Bucks for free by playing the Clash Royale. Playing But the World awards a lot of V-Bucks which you could use in either game mode. However, there is no need to wait for long since But the planet will be for open in 2019. So bookmark the website! Every only way to make free V-Bucks is listed on this website.

10 Problems On VBUCKS

While both atmosphere in Fortnite can make, investigate, and remain the worked for the combat zone, each group is matched with a specific style of play out of an group of abilities and bonuses unlocked through the expertise tree. Fortnite esp works sound too. There's at here just some fundamental playable classes, but as the amusement creates through Alpha, Beta, early get to, with prior, there's prepared to be many special classes. Every principle group includes several Sub Schools on the two sexual orientations.

Fortnite is a hit PS4, Xbox One, LAPTOP and Mac online competition in which occurs streaming in popularity. Fortnite's But The planet mode will become free to play later this year, while Battle Royale is free right now. Battle Royale is a vast rival to another hit online game - PUBG, also called Battlegrounds. Developers Epic Games have also recently added Fortnite Cell toward it is offering, that is for iOS and Machine devices. You may get Fortnite news, updates, server status latest, downtime alerts, weekly challenge guides, map latest, Fortnite Mobile information, tips and strategy and more below.

You can play the game in PC, PS4, and Xbox. Player development can be cut among linked accounts (at least for NOTEBOOK and PS4), and you don't have to get another content on the sport. Even getting the standard release is good since this promising to enhance to check model by giving the differentiation of the two. However, when you move a reproduction as a present, but lack time to play, consider acquire a Fortnite account.

There is desirable information with the just one of a person with not enough money in your water or group bill, and for those who have a lot of time to show about the game- and also here job they do not have http://dve-mz.com/swanusbjn9/post-is-the-season-162161.html an issue with work revealed the intensive number of game gathering with fortnite - then there are many plans for the acquisition of luxury V-bucks, which also without having to spend a penny. The only final hurdle for you to cross be which you have to have obtained the single-player save the planet area of the videotape game at a one point in the past.

V Bucks is the quality in-game currency for Fortnite Battle Royale. If you have played any such activity or next you know the in-game currency could help you get battles, save your own days, be everything simple or difficult depending on how much money you have and your entire gaming experience depends on the relative financial success. Fortnite Battle Royale builders have enabled some provisions for players to make V Bucks with the daily rewards. They can be used in Battle Royale mode. Yet, you cannot possibly earn all the bucks you need. You would need some more bucks than you have with cause about free V Bucks is the best strategy any person could fathom.

Every day, more and more players moved advance about public media to say they'd been hacked, besides. The development exploded earlier this month. There's no hard data about how many, although a jump in sites where Fortnite players congregate suggests the number of alleged fraud issues in the world's most popular sports is great. Hackers I interviewed say that's as security for Epic Games' software is located, with John's words, 'œtop kek.' Epic Games doesn't ask for a lot of verification before players do in-game purchases, which, hackers say, paves a clear start regarding the attacks.

Clicking put in, the website states to be connecting to Epic Activity with Fortnite severs but finally rest for additional verification. To be sure that you are not a bot that important which people fulfill a protection verification,” a pop-up box states. After you achieve the verification it will be credited 7,500 V-Bucks in your account.” Going on on leads to three separate phishing websites.

In Fortnite the income of payment is a digital currency v-Bucks Participants could substitute coins for beauty things with which may vary the character's look otherwise the bats they accept. For the owned system of Fortnite v-Bucks you can also get Battle Passes, allowing us to clear additional obstacles and get other supplies, as well as providing entrance to another deposits of skins. Unfortunately, cosmetics and other attractions suggested in Fortnite are much expensive. The coins of Fortnite v-Bucks aren't cheap, either. Players can generate the currency in a struggle, for example as an award for project within before completing particular missions. Yet these structures aren't quick, and therefore lots of people look for different means to get v-Bucks. One of them is the chance to generate v-Bucks coins in means of the free generator.

The Custom of VBUCKS

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4. Download the Fortnite request and put in this in place. You'll and then be consulted whether you have received a invitation or maybe not. If you picked up the email, try and monitor within and you'll start playing. If you haven't, you won't have access just but. If you like you can keep the app downloaded upon your call, then when you gather the evidence email, the credit will have been given permission to log in and have playing.

Fortnite Battle Royale has what is known as, virtual currency within the game known as V-Bucks. You buy V-Bucks with real world money out of credit cards, PayPal, or gift certificate. V-Bucks are needed to buy virtual goods like Skins” (A fancier avatar) or items which are increasingly part of the taste from the competition. Looking neat and carry out cool with these virtual add-ons is definitely part of Fortnite's appeal.

The single-player or co-operative mode (played with friends) involves fighting off zombie-like women. But Fortnite's most popular method is its standalone free-to-play multiplayer platform, Fortnite Battle Royale, in which up to 100 players put in the on-line game, competing alone or within squads of around some, to be the last player standing in a ever-decreasing battle arena.

But what exactly keeps them returning to Fortnite are weekly updates with new items with limited-time game modes. For case, one update with the game added shopping carts you could drive, giving participants the playoffs first automobiles and allowing people yet another end to spring back into the game. Another update unveiled Playground mode , that permits a squad of friends drop because of the island without the threat from the storm so they can experiment with guns with training building shapes. The larger Season 5 update added new districts to examine and All-Terrain Karts you can get with your whole squad. Good, it made hurt that Fortnite located the stand for coming tie-in events with an Avengers: Infinity War cross-promotion where players were able to seize the Infinity Gauntlet and become Thanos while enjoying the game.

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The most straightforward way to unlock free Fortnite V-Bucks for free is to turn happy with both experience uses with campaign stars through completing regular and Campaign Pass Challenges. As you level up you'll reach new levels in the sport battle state system (both the free and $10 type) and a handful of tiers will give you various levels of V-Bucks to spend in the sports store.

Next, you'll have to write in the amount. You can leave as sad as 1 or the maximum amount possible in-game. Just to guarantee that the list works, you might want to from a nice with acceptable amount. If you discover that the Fortnite V Bucks generator does work, you can always profit with ask for a new amount. These programs do not think about the way many repeat transactions people kind.

Fortnite Battle Royale is without a question the biggest activity within the world right now. In this Fortnite V-Bucks guide, we'll be going you in everything there is to know about the micro currency for Fortnite. We'll be detailing whether or not there are ways to get Fortnite V-Bucks for free, as well as how we can watch out for free Fortnite V-Bucks scams.

[growlegalweed-blog]

Legal Weed Resources

Check out... https://legalweed.gq/420/doox/

Doox

In this guide you will learn

Effects

Fragrance

Flavors

Adverse reactions

Medical

Growing

Flowering time

Doox is an artisan strain only offered by The Farm, a Colorado-based that grows clean, slow-cured, craft cannabis. Just as expected, it is delicious with its citric hints of lime and lemon accentuated by subtle notes of earth. Its buds are just as appealing too, with light green buds that look almost white due to the thick coat of trichomes. However, the crème of the crop is its 20% to 21% THC that delivers high-flying cerebral high with an equally energizing body buzz.

In creating the bud, The Farm used two world-renowned strains. First is Purple Cow, which passed on its Sativa-dominant qualities along with its sweet, fruit-flavored terpene profile as well as impressive trichome production. Meanwhile, from Chemdog, it gained its sour notes and high potency.

Tip: make sure to download my free Grow Bible for more information

Drawing in Doox ushers in a mentally invigorating experience that lives up to expectations. Not only that, it has significant therapeutic benefits that provide patients from the medical marijuana community with a temporary reprieve against various health issues.

Information About Doox Strain

ORIGIN Purple Cow and Chemdawg EFFECTS Uplifted – 10 Energetic – 10 Happy – 8 Focused – 5 Tingly – 3 FRAGRANCE Pungent, lemon, sour, sweet, citrus, earthy FLAVORS Citrus, lime, lemon, sour, skunk, earthy ADVERSE REACTIONS Dry mouth – 10 MEDICAL Depression – 10 Fatigue – 10 Inflammation – 10 Muscle spasms – 10 Pain – 10 FLOWERING TIME INDOOR 10 to 12 weeks FLOWERING TIME OUTDOOR Late October to mid-November PLANT HEIGHT Unknown THC CONTENT % 20% to 21% CBD % Unknown INDICA/SATIVA % 30%/70% INDOOR YIELD 12 to 16 ounces per square meter OUTDOOR YIELD 16 ounces or more per plant CLIMATE Warm climate GROWTH LEVEL Unknown RESISTANCE TO DISEASE Unknown

* 10 is the highest * 1 is the lowest

Effects

Doox has fast-acting and hard-hitting effects. Right after the first puff, the mind is immediately uplifted by a rush of energy that revitalizes users through and through. Oftentimes, the innate happiness radiates outwards as people smile for no reason.

Doox Strain Effects – Image Powered by orderweedonline.ca

Apart from enhancing the mood, the upbeat disposition also clears the mind. It helps casual users deal with stress from work throughout the day while providing a much-needed energy boost. Enhancing productivity is a heightened sense of focus that keeps one working on tasks until its completion.

From the temples, a tingling sensation erupts and creeps its way downward. Subtle at first, it gradually increases in intensity until it eventually envelops the body in an uplifting buzz. In spite of its ability to free the muscles of tension, rarely does Doox take users on a trip to dreamland. Rather, it complements the initial mental effects so one stays energized hours after the last puff.

Fragrance

Many feel immediately energized after taking a whiff of Doox. The strain gives off a pungent lemon combination with subtle hints of skunk. Accentuating the sourness is a sweet note of citrus which, once combusted, is further enhanced by hints of earth.

Flavors

Doox swarms the palate with the citric taste of limes and lemons when drawn in. Its smoke also has sour undertones of skunk. On the exhale, it leaves an earthy aftertaste that lingers even after the last puff.

Adverse reactions

Doox, like other strains, contains moisture-inhibiting cannabinoids that interfere with saliva production. While the cottonmouth is usually harmless, it can be a tad bothersome to beginners. Thankfully, all that is needed to relieve it is a glass of water throughout the day.

Medical

The Farm’s craft cannabis strains are filled with cannabinoids that help ease a myriad of mental and physical afflictions. Its THC, for example, induces a happy high that leaves one feeling collected.

Doox Strain Medical – Image Powered by thefarmco.com

At the same time, it calms the fast-paced thoughts of users experiencing dread either due to work or personal anxiety. For this reason, it makes for a great stress reliever as well as anti-depressant that helps manage symptoms of mental health issues like depression or PTSD. The same psychoactive compound also reenergizes users through and through.

A natural painkiller, Doox relieves the body of various aches and pains beginning from the temples. It blankets the body in relaxation and, in doing so, prevents the muscles from suddenly contracting or causing pain. Meanwhile, its anti-inflammatory agents reduce redness and swelling.

Growing

As of the moment, the only way to acquire Doox is to buy seeds from The Farm. Another alternative is to try and get clippings which can be quite an arduous task when one has no connections. Nevertheless, the plant is worth the hard work as it is a hefty yielder that rewards aspiring growers with beautiful buds dropping in trichomes and resin.

Doox Strain Growing – Image Powered by allbud.com

With that said, climate and location are two important factors in growing a strain like Doox. As a Sativa-dominant strain, it has a propensity for long hours under the sun in warm, Mediterranean climate. The plant is also quite resistant to humidity-related problems like mold or mildew. Moisture is easily dried out due to its thin foliage. However, it will need to be staked for added support against strong gusts of winds.

It may not perform as well in the colder regions of the northern hemisphere. Rather than blooming early, it extends its flowering period by a few weeks to accommodate for the lack of sunlight.

Because of this, there are many growers who prefer cultivating the strain in highly controlled environments where adjusting factors like lighting, temperature, and humidity are easily adjusted. It will need to be topped early though. After all, it has a lanky structure that can easily fill an area lacking in vertical space. At the same time, pruning or trimming will also improve distribution of air, light, and nutrients among the lower nodes.

TIP: Looking to buy seeds? Visit the ILGM cannabis seed shop

Flowering Time

Indoor It takes a lot of patience and labor to grow Doox. After all, it has an indoor flowering period of 10 to 12 weeks along with a 3-month curing period. Once ready for harvest though, it will reward growers with at least 12 to 16 ounces of buds per square meter.

Outdoor Outdoors, Doox flowers from the last week of October to the middle of November depending on the weather conditions. It usually produces at least 16 ounces of buds per plant.

Have you ever smoked or grown your own Doox? Please let me know what you think about this marijuana strain in the comments below.

Robert

Read Doox on I Love Growing Marijuana.

[windybunny]

When Tesla bought a decommissioned car factory in Fremont, California, Elon Musk transformed the old-fashioned, unionized plant into a much-vaunted "factory of the future", where giant robots named after X-Men shape and fold sheets of metal inside a gleaming white mecca of advanced manufacturing.

The appetite for Musk's electric cars, and his promise to disrupt the carbon-reliant automobile industry, has helped Tesla’s value exceed that of both Ford and, briefly, General Motors (GM). But some of the human workers who share the factory with their robotic counterparts complain of grueling work pressure they attribute to Musk’s aggressive production goals, and sometimes life-changing injuries.

Ambulances have been called more than 100 times since 2014 for workers experiencing fainting spells, dizziness, seizures, abnormal breathing and chest pains, according to incident reports obtained by the Guardian. Hundreds more were called for injuries and other medical issues.

In a phone interview about the conditions at the factory, which employs some 10,000 workers, the Tesla CEO conceded his workers had been "having a hard time, working long hours, and on hard jobs", but said he cared deeply about their health and wellbeing. His company says its factory safety record has significantly improved over the last year.

Musk also said that Tesla should not be compared to major US carmakers and that its market capitalization, now more than $50bn, is unwarranted. "I do believe this market cap is higher than we have any right to deserve," he said, pointing out his company produces just 1% of GM’s total output.

"We’re a money losing company," Musk added. "This is not some situation where, for example, we are just greedy capitalists who decided to skimp on safety in order to have more profits and dividends and that kind of thing. It’s just a question of how much money we lose. And how do we survive? How do we not die and have everyone lose their jobs?"

Musk’s account of the company’s approach differs from that of the 15 current and former factory workers who told the Guardian of a culture which they described as requiring working long hours under intense pressure, sometimes through pain and injury, in order to fulfill the CEO’s ambitious production goals.

"I’ve seen people pass out, hit the floor like a pancake and smash their face open," said Jonathan Galescu, a production technician at Tesla. "They just send us to work around him while he’s still laying on the floor."

He was one of several workers who said they had seen co-workers collapse or be taken away in ambulances. "We had an associate on my line, he just kept working, kept working, kept working, next thing you know — he just fell on the ground," said Mikey Catura, a worker on the battery pack line.

Richard Ortiz, another production worker, spoke admiringly of the high-tech shop floor. "It’s like you died and went to auto-worker heaven." But he added: "Everything feels like the future but us."

Tesla sits at the juncture between a tech startup, untethered from the rules of the old economy, and a manufacturer that needs to produce physical goods. Nowhere is that contradiction more apparent than at the Tesla factory, where Musk's bombastic projection that his company will make 500,000 cars in 2018 (a 495% increase from 2016) relies as much on the sweat and muscle of thousands of human workers as it does on futuristic robots.

"From what I’ve gathered, Elon Musk started Tesla kind of like an app startup and didn’t realize that it isn’t just nerds at a computer desk typing," said one production worker, one of several who asked not to be identified by name. "You really start losing the startup feel when you have thousands of people doing physical labor."

In February, Tesla worker Jose Moran published a blog post that detailed allegations of mandatory overtime, high rates of injury and low wages at the factory, and revealed that workers were seeking to unionize with the United Auto Workers.

Moran's post shone a spotlight on a workforce that is almost entirely absent from Tesla's official images of the factory.

Michael Sanchez once had two dreams: to be an artist and a car service technician. He said he was “ecstatic” when he was recruited five years ago to work at Tesla, a company he believed was "part of the future."

Now Sanchez has two herniated discs in his neck, is on disability leave from work, and can no longer grip a pencil without pain.

Tesla said that the employee’s injury occurred while he was installing a wheel, but Sanchez said it was caused by the years he spent working on Tesla's assembly line. The cars he worked on were suspended above the line, and his job required looking up and working with his hands above his head all day.

"You can make it through Monday," Sanchez said. "You can make it through Tuesday. Come Wednesday you start to feel something. Thursday is pain. Friday is agonizing. Saturday you’re just making it through the day."

Tesla's manufacturing practices appear to have been most dangerous in its earliest years of operations. The company does not dispute that its recordable incident rate (TRIR), an official measure of injuries and illnesses that is reported to workplace safety regulators, was above the industry average between 2013 and 2016.

Tesla declined to release data over those four years, saying such information "doesn’t reflect how the factory operates today."

The company did release more recent data, which indicates its record of safety incidents went from slightly above the industry average in late 2016, to a performance in the first few months of 2017 that was 32% better than average. The company said that its decision to add a third shift, introduce a dedicated team of ergonomics experts, and improvements to the factory’s "safety teams" account for the significant reduction in incidents since last year.

Musk said safety was paramount at the company. "It’s incredibly hurtful and I think false for anyone to claim that I don’t care." The CEO said his desk was "in the worst place in the factory, the most painful place", in keeping with his management philosophy. "It’s not some comfortable corner office."

In early 2016, he said, he slept on the factory floor in a sleeping bag "to make it the most painful thing possible." "I knew people were having a hard time, working long hours, and on hard jobs. I wanted to work harder than they did, to put even more hours in," he said. "Because that's what I think a manager should do."

He added: "We're doing this because we believe in a sustainable energy future, trying to accelerate the advent of clean transport and clean energy production, not because we think this is a way to get rich."

Tesla workers who spoke to the Guardian echoed this sense of pride and enthusiasm for the company's mission. "We’re changing the world," enthused Ortiz. "I can't wait for my granddaughter to one day go to class and say, 'My grandfather was in there.'"

But that pride did not erase what Ortiz described as a prevailing mood of "mass disappointment" over working conditions and what he alleged were avoidable work-related injuries.

He recently lost the strength in his right arm, a situation he said was "scaring" him. "I want to use my arm when I’m retired," he added.

Others described repetitive stress injuries they linked to working long hours. Before the company reduced the average time of a workday in October 2016, workers said they routinely worked 12-hour shifts, six days a week. Tesla said the change had been "a success", and resulted in a 50% decline in overtime hours.

Sanchez and other workers said they believed more injuries occurred because, for years, the company did not take worker safety seriously, with some managers belittling their complaints and pressuring them to work through pain.

When workers told managers about pain, Sanchez said they responded: "We all hurt. You can’t man up?" Alan Ochoa, another Tesla worker who is currently on a medical leave with an injury, alleged that superiors "put the production numbers ahead of the safety and wellbeing of the employees."

The company said that Ochoa and Sanchez are especially outspoken workers whose views do not represent the wider workforce. However, the Tesla spokesperson added: "In a factory of more than 10,000 employees, there will always be isolated incidents that we would like to avoid."

Complaints about working conditions at Tesla are not universal. "I’ve got benefits, I’ve got stocks, I’ve got [paid time off]," said a worker who has been at the company for about a year. "I thoroughly enjoy my work and I feel I’m treated fairly."

Another worker, a temporary employee, said that he sees some teams in the factory doing group stretches in the morning to prevent injuries.

However, some Tesla workers argue the company’s treatment of injured workers discourages them from reporting their injuries. If workers are assigned to "light duty" work because of an injury, they are paid a lower wage as well as supplemental benefits from workers' compensation insurance, a practice that Tesla said was in line with other employers and California law.

"I went from making $22 an hour to $10 an hour," said a production worker, who injured his back twice while working at Tesla. "It kind of forces people to go back to work."

"No one wants to get a pay cut because they’re injured, so everyone just forces themselves to work through it," added Adam Suarez, who has worked at the factory for about three years.

Tesla said it was determined to further improve its safety standards. "While some amount of injuries is inevitable, our goal at Tesla is to have as close to zero injuries as possible and to become the safest factory in the auto industry worldwide," the spokesperson said.

Musk has a well-documented tendency to promise Mars and deliver the moon. His electric car company was, by his own admission, a gamble. Musk said starting a car manufacturer from scratch was likely "the worst way to earn money, honestly", though he caveated that "maybe rockets are a bit worse". "On a risk adjusted return basis, an auto company has to be the dumbest thing you could possibly start."

The company has succeeded at increasing its production rate every quarter. In the first three months of 2017, the factory produced more than 25,000 cars – a Tesla record. To meet Musk's goal for 2018, they will have to quintuple that rate.

"I think one of the major problems is that people at the top are making unrealistic quarterly goals," said a worker on the battery pack line.

Three workers described a management tactic of assigning a monetary value to every delay on the assembly line. "One time the robot came down and [the supervisor] came back screaming at us, 'That’s $18,000, $20,0000, $30,0000, $50,000 because you guys can't get this done,'" Gelascu recalled.

Tesla argues the challenge in building vehicles from scratch with new production and manufacturing methods should not be underestimated, but that "nothing is more important" than protecting the health and safety of its workers.

"We’re trying to do good for the world and we believe in doing the right thing," Musk said. "And that extends to caring about the health and safety of everyone at the company."

It’s a more humanistic tone than the one he strikes with investors. "You really can't have people in the production line itself. Otherwise you’ll automatically drop to people speed," he told investors in an earnings call last year. "There's still a lot of people at the factory, but what they're doing is maintaining the machines, upgrading them, dealing with anomalies. But in the production process itself there essentially would be no people."

[snowbellewells]

“It’s the Thought That Counts”

Okay, so this is nearly two weeks belated, but it’s my CS Secret Santa 2016 gift to @swanandapirate that I truly hope she will enjoy!  Now I can finally tell you I’m your Secret Santa and thank you profusely for being patient as this story fought me every bit of the way in finally getting completed.  It draws a bit from O. Henry’s “The Gift of the Magi”, but it can be enjoyed without knowing that.  It’s a modern AU, and Killian and Emma are twenty something platonic roommates, though both may want more if they ever get up the courage to admit it.  I truly do hope it’s worth the wait, that your holidays were happy and that 2017 is a wonderful New Year for you!   ~Marta (snowbellewells)

“It’s the Thought that Counts”

For @swanandapirate my CS Secret Santa giftee 2016

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

             Seventy-seven dollars and forty-eight cents…that was all.  Emma blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed a weary hand over her face, sighing and wondering if maybe she should count again.  Surely she had missed some of it; she must have made a mistake. After taking on all those extra shifts at Granny’s, after all of the pinching and scraping she’d done – it still wouldn’t be enough.  Seventy-seven dollars and forty-eight cents it was, and that wouldn’t buy the perfect present…the gift she’d decided he had to have.

           Not knowing what else to do, Emma Swan shoved the blond strands that had escaped her braid out of her face in exasperation and tucked the bills and assorted coins back into the beat up leather wallet she carried, perusing the people rushing back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the row of shops through the windshield of her VW Bug. She’d parked outside the music store right after getting off her latest shift at the little 24-hour diner, hoping that with the week’s wages Granny had kindly given her a day early and the night’s tips, she would finally be able to get the gift she had earmarked for her best friend.

           Though she had been putting back every spare penny for weeks, there hadn’t been very many of them. She was often lucky if ten to twenty dollars every week or so made it in the fund she had begun in September for Killian’s present.  On a waitress’ salary (yeah, those big dreams of what she would do with her fancy degree had yet to come to any kind of fruition) rent, utilities, groceries and gas for the Bug were almost more than she could handle, even splitting some of those bills with her best friend for their two bedroom apartment; there simply wasn’t much extra.

           Regardless, Killian was special to her, and she wanted him to have the items she’d set her heart on giving him.  Wistfully, she rested her arms on the steering wheel and gazed once more at the front of the music shop, admiring again the tooled-leather strap and perfect case, butter soft material all on the inside, the ideal cushion for his beloved instrument, the guitar that had once been his brother Liam’s.  Knowing she couldn’t afford the price she had been quoted, despite all her effort, Emma let her mind wander back instead, not yet willing to leave empty-handed, back to the early days when she and Killian had first met.

           It had been only her second day at college in Boston; she had forgotten to get a shower curtain for the suite and was running out in a huff to the nearest Target when she had plowed into a guy entering the dorm with a stack of boxes high enough to obscure his view, and knocked both of them off their feet. Rather than bawling her out for not watching where she was going or picking himself up and beating a hasty retreat from the disastrous whirlwind she had been in those days, he’d begun to laugh, helped her up, introduced himself, and they had been best friends ever since.  From studying for midterms together for years, to bringing each other meals and keeping one another company in the wee hours at their numerous respective part-time jobs, to prepping each other as they got ready for interviews at their post-college ventures, Killian Jones was the first person in Emma’s life who had always been there for her when she needed him, who would drop anything to come when she called. It had taken him time to break through her reserve and skepticism completely – growing up shuffled through the foster system, abandoned and forgotten, had left her waiting for the same sort of betrayal from anyone in her life.  However, as months of barbed comments, testing behavior, and sharp comebacks failed to scare him off or push him away, Emma had begun to let Killian in – to try something new as he urged and trust him – just a little at first, and then more openly than she had ever allowed herself to trust  anyone before.  Now, she truly could not imagine what her life would be like without her confidante, her partner-in-crime, and her number one supporter.  Killian had opened her eyes, made her stop to enjoy, to laugh, to appreciate her days, and at least occasionally…believe.  The world looked brighter through his vision.

           Emma knew she wasn’t the easiest person, and she had wanted for some time to do something for Killian to say thank you in a way more clear than words, which often failed her. She wanted him to know what his friendship had come to mean to her, and give him something he would really love. It was hard for her to fully express how glad she was that he had persisted until he helped her lower the walls around her heart, and when she had finally discovered the perfect gesture – the very thing her dearest friend needed, no deserved, to have, she couldn’t make herself settle for anything else.

           Once more, she glanced into the music shop’s large front window.  She could see the handcrafted, genuine leather, artistically beautiful guitar case even from where she sat.  Of course it was displayed prominently.  She knew nothing about instruments or their care and storage; in general, she paid very little attention to music at all, other than to know that the old, traditional shanties Killian’s calloused fingers coaxed from the strings with his gentle touch were the most soothing and peaceful sounds she had ever heard, and his husky, warmly accented voice made shivers run up and down her spine with an intensity that she was hard-pressed to ignore and which made her clench her hands on her thighs not to delve them into his dark, unruly hair and pull him close.

           Shaking her head, Emma turned the key in the VW’s ignition, wondering at the disconcerting rush of attraction which swept over her from time-to-time.  She didn’t know where it came from or why she couldn’t rid herself of it as she had always been able to with guys before, but she wouldn’t risk anything else; no matter how devastatingly handsome Killian was, not if it meant she could stand to lose the most loving, steadfast person to ever walk into her life.  She simply forced herself to ride the moments out when they appeared and kept herself together until the hot yearning subsided and she could look at him and simply see her friend once more.  Regretfully clutching the worn-soft steering wheel in her hands, Emma knew she should back out of the parking space; she needed to give up and find something else for Killian that she could afford.  She had almost done so, already moved the stick to reverse, when the solution came to her in a blast of inspiration. Her eyes lit up, and her fingers danced over the dashboard, only the tiniest bit of lingering hesitation left.  She knew just what to do, but she had to be quick.  She had to get back here before closing time. It was a miracle the case and strap had not already been bought as someone else’s gift.  Excitement that she had not felt in a very long time thrummed through her veins as Emma told herself she just might manage to give Killian Jones a Christmas gift worthy of him after all.

~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~

           Across town, Killian Jones was pondering similar obstacles as he paced the auto body shop where he and Emma’s friend Graham had helped him find some extra work when he wasn’t pounding the pavement trying to seek an opening in his chosen field.  While the opportunities to get a foot in the door at one of the city’s various law firms had proven to be few and far between, he picked up what income he could in the meantime.  Occasionally when the place was swamped, he helped Graham in the repairs, and Graham’s friendly boss, an older gentleman named Marco who had been a skilled craftsman in his day but now had hands too arthritic to do any of the actual work himself, had Killian into his office, his keen eyes twinkling as he took in what he called “a sharp young pup’s” financial and legal advice and paid him well for the consultation, even if it was not officially licensed.

           Though Killian enjoyed action and doing, a bit of adventure and an honest day’s labor, this help he could be to Marco and others like him – Emma’s old-fashioned diner owning boss whom everyone simply called “Granny” Lucas, when she was stymied by paperwork and tax forms was another – reminded him of why he had chosen law in the first place; nearly broke though he might be from the effort and not yet having been able to right any great wrongs.  Six long years have gone by since the accident that took his beloved older brother’s life, and the legal wrangling pulled off by the defendant’s lawyer, keeping the man responsible for Liam’s ship being broadsided and then left stranded in the harbor, taking on water and going down in under ten minutes, her captain’s body having never been found but almost certainly going down with the doomed vessel, from facing anything more than what seemed a mere slap on the wrist for his gross negligence.  Killian had been just nineteen at the time, barely into his sophomore year of college, and when all was said and done, he had been left with no settlement, no compensation, no income, and most devastating of all: no anchor. The man who had always been there for him, the only dependable father figure in his life since their sire had walked out one day when Killian was eight and never returned, who had cared for him, looked out for him, made sure he had food to eat, told him stories when they were young and the nights were dark, who had given up his own coat so Killian didn’t go to school without, who had stood in front of his little brother as a shield, both physically when their father lashed out in misguided anger and grief, and emotionally with plausible excuses until Killian had been old enough to understand and bear the truth of their papa’s abandonment; that man was suddenly and irrevocably gone.

           Killian hadn’t been able to keep their little apartment or most of their appliances, furniture, and other possessions, such as they had been.  Their sale had allowed him to scrape together enough to stay in school that year.  The scholarships, loans, and much hard work, as well as various friends’ kindly lent couches and spare rooms over breaks had allowed him to continue until he had his degree, but his initial bent toward marine biology was no more. In his mind, law was now his own way of seeking justice and retribution for wrongs.  He would do all in his power to keep others who had already lost their loved ones from losing everything else as well, the way that he had.

           Liam’s battered acoustic guitar was the one thing he had not been able to part with, though it sat propped up in the front seat beside him now.  He could remember Liam sitting by the dwindling fire in the hearth, strumming the instrument and clearly finding some sort of immeasurable solace after a long, soul-grinding day of hard physical toil at the docks, the sound of some sailor’s lament in the plucked chords and Liam’s softly off-key voice often lulling him to sleep on his cot in the corner of their cramped but warm dinette room.

           Though it appears a bit weathered, Killian knows the instrument is of solid, impressive quality and materials.  It had belonged to their mother, who’d had a bit of minor amateur notice as a singer and musician before meeting their father and giving up her craft, and before that, her father’s – once upon a time.  Killian had never met this grandfather who was a noted folk singer in Ireland, but his mother had often told him as a boy while sifting gentle fingers through his dark mop of hair that he looked like her “papa” with his dark brows and “eyes blue as the sea”.  

           No, he had always been unwilling to sacrifice the instrument, despite the price it might fetch, but now – now things were different.  There was someone in his life again; someone he loved and admired with the devotion and fervor his brother had inspired.  She needed to know what she meant to him.  Yes, as his best friend, but also as the only woman in the world he’d had eyes for since she literally knocked him off his feet on move-in day all those years ago.  Liam’s guitar would allow him the ability to give Emma a gift that expressed his true regard, rather than relying on words which she understandably tends to mistrust.

           If he could just part with the family keepsake, he would have enough to carry out his Christmas plan. He knew that her bright yellow car, the only remnant of the first relationship she’d ever felt secure or needed within, though it had eventually imploded and nearly destroyed her, was incredibly dear to her.  Garish eyesore it might seem to most, but he knew Emma would never part with it.  It was a symbol of where she’d come from, who she’d been, and a reminder to her of just how far she had come.  He also knew it desperately needed several repairs that she’d had to try to keep the vehicle limping along without for some time.  It actually hurt his heart to see how hard Emma worked.  Leaving the apartment most mornings before sunrise and often coming home well past supper, dead on her feet from working all day and not much more he could do than feed her the leftovers of whatever he had made that evening and offer to rub her feet as they watched some tv before turning in for the night.  If he could give her beloved Bug some of the work it required and make things easier for her, even for just a time, he was determined to do so.

           With a firm nod of decision, Killian’s hand closed around the neck of the old guitar and he got out of his truck, almost cradling the instrument one last time.  He knew the old man recognized the piece’s fine artistry, and that he would care for the guitar he had expressed interest in buying numerous times before.  Killian expected it was meant to be a gift for the man’s son, August, who played in some cover band on the weekends as a hobby.  Still, it would at least be used and appreciated, and the sacrifice – once he saw the surprise at her present on his Swan’s face – would be worth it.

~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~CS~~

           That night, Christmas Eve, when Emma and Killian met back at her apartment over the diner, both were almost vibrating with excitement to share their gifts, ridiculously anxious for the other to see the fruits of their labor.  Emma opened the door at his first gentle rap, a pleased smirk on her face, both at the sweet, unassuming way he knocked so as not to startle her, even though he lived there too and could come right on in, and at the look she imagined seeing on his face soon when he got a look at the case and strap and realized he wouldn’t have to keep his prized possession behind their recliner in the corner of the living room anymore, nor would he have to play the guitar sitting down because he had never gotten himself a strap.  Now that she had finally bitten the bullet and made the trade, she didn’t even miss her old clunker of a car that much; what she had gotten in exchange was going to be more than worth it with how happy it would make him.  Tiana, her fellow waitress at the diner, was always saying Emma didn’t need the expense of gas and insurance and repairs anyway, what with how close the bus stop was to both Emma’s home and the diner.  As usual, the practical, no-nonsense woman had been right, Emma now conceded. This was going to work out well, and she had achieved her goal for the last few months as well instead of having to admit defeat.

           Pulling Killian into the apartment with an eager grip on his wrist, Emma led her friend past the kitchen island where they usually gathered to talk over their day and find some supper to eat, gestured for him to sit on the couch, and began speaking in an enthusiastic rush quite unlike her usual reserve.  It pinked her cheeks and made him chuckle, finding her utterly adorable and wanting to pull her down onto his lap and wrap her in a hug, hold her close in his arms for as long as she would allow.  The impulse only grew when he thought about the little squeal of delight he could almost hear her making when she realized she could drop a few of those extra shifts she was pulling trying to get the Bug new brakes and snow chains for the tires before winter really set in, because it was already taken care of.  He could only hope the twinkle in her eyes that never failed to enchant him might appear as well at the realization that she could afford to take a Saturday off, stay in her pajamas all day and drink her beloved hot cocoa and cinnamon curled up in the window seat.

           The moment they both settled on the couch, Emma snapped him back to the present, still clutching his hand in both of hers, almost bouncing on the couch cushions. The unbridled delight in her face was almost childlike glee. Though very few people were privy to such displays from her, Killian adored seeing the true depth of Emma’s good heart and boundless affection for those who proved worthy and managed to reach behind her walls.  “So, it’s time to exchange our presents for each other, right?” she prodded excitedly.  “Wait until you see what I got you!”

           He nodded gamely, a chuckle rumbling through his chest despite suddenly feeling almost nervous at what he had gotten in return.  Gesturing to her, he offered, “Of course, but why don’t you start, Swan?  We’ll have to go outside to get a look at your gift.”

           “Ooh…a mystery…I like it!” she intoned playfully, nudging him with her elbow before reaching under their couch to pull out a large, long, rather flat box and laying it across his lap. “But first,” here she gave a little clap, “let’s see what you think of this!”

           If he lived a hundred years, Killian would never be quite sure he could forget the way his breath caught in his chest at the sight which greeted him when he tore through the heavy, metallic green and gold wrapping and discovered what Emma had gotten him. There before him was a hand tooled case, a pricey one he’d yearned for more than once through the local music shop’s window and which would be the perfect resting place for Liam’s guitar…if only he hadn’t sold it to pay for Emma’s present.  

           Tears pricked his eyes, touched beyond belief even if the present is no longer of any practical use to him.  He can only imagine what this must have cost her, and he couldn’t quite fathom how she had procured it, but when he looked up to see her tense, eager face anticipating his reaction, none of that mattered, he only needed to find the words to express the swell of genuine love he felt for her.  Reaching forward to clasp her hand now, he brushed his thumb over her skin lightly, making himself speak even if it came out a husky croak, “It’s beautiful, Swan.  Truly. I have never seen another its equal.”

           She beamed, her eyes lighting up just as he had hoped that they would, and flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly.  “Oh, I’m so glad you like it!” she breathed, then pulled back excitedly once more, urging him forward.  “Well, go on, get your guitar.  I didn’t see it, so I figured you must have put it in your room last night!  There’s a strap for it in there too.  Let’s see how it looks with the guitar!”

           Killian blinked, stunned in that moment by her beauty and her unselfish joy, and he didn’t want to tell her, didn’t want to ruin her surprise, or perhaps make her feel bad when she had given him something so lovely.  Clearing his throat, he tried for playful flirtation with a wink, hoping to put her off, and stalled nervously, “We can do that soon enough. It’s time for your present now I believe, Lass.  We’ll need to get the Bug though.  Where did you park this evening?  I didn’t see it when I came in.”

           He had gotten up and started to move toward the door where their coats, hats, and scarves were hung before he realized her reluctance. It wasn’t until he turned, hat on head, to see that she had only followed him a couple of steps, and was now avoiding his eyes, studying the toes of her tennis shoes instead.  

           “What is it?” he asked, concern and nerves trickling through him once again.  “Emma?”

           “We – well, we can’t, Killian.  Okay?” She shook her head and tried to move past him into the kitchen.  “Let’s have our Christmas dinner before it gets cold.  After, you can play me a couple of songs.  I think I’d rather wait for open my gift tomorrow…Christmas morning and all, you know?”

           “Wait, what are you on about, Swan?” he pressed, sure now that something was troubling her, and also knowing he could not do what she asked – not when Liam’s beloved treasure was no longer with him.

           “The Bug isn’t here,” she finally admitted, so softly he had to lean into her space.

           “Did it break down?” he asked gently, not sure what exactly she meant.  It wouldn’t be the first time the old Volkswagen had stranded her somewhere and she’d found another way home.  “You know Marco will let Graham tow it for us without all the ridiculous upcharges.  It’s okay. We’ll eat and then go fetch it.”

           She sighed, shoulders slumping as if to admit defeat.  “No, that’s not it.  It isn’t mine anymore.  I sold the Bug.”

           “You – you sold it?” he stuttered disbelievingly.  She loved that car; had always vowed she wouldn’t part with it until it literally fell to pieces.

           “I had to,” she finally explained, sniffling a bit and still not meeting his gaze.  “I couldn’t save up as much as I’d hoped.  And you had to have that case.  I wanted you to have it so badly.  I don’t really need a car.  The bus easily takes me everywhere I really go in this city.  And I’ll save on gas and auto insurance.  I sold it to get your Christmas gift, okay?  But it’s fine…really.  I just didn’t want to tell you and have you feel bad…”  

          She trailed off, and Killian knew he should say something, but once again, she had stolen all the air he needed to speak. He darted forward impulsively, cupping her chin in his palm and tilting her pretty face up to his.  He let his thumb caress the little dimple in her chin affectionately, and then he shook his head in awe.  “You didn’t have to do that for me, Swan.  Your friendship, honestly, is gift enough.  But I thank you…truly.  Just don’t look like that.  It was a beautiful thing you did, and I wish that my gift would be the expression of appreciation I had hoped for...”

          Her brow furrowed adorably, finding herself the one confused now, and he wanted to lean forward to kiss the little crease so badly he had to bite his bottom lip to avoid it.  “Now you’re the one not making sense,” she accused.

          “I bought snow chains for the Bug and a prepaid coupon to have the brakes replaced as well.  It isn’t a very romantic gift, I’m well aware, but I know you’ve been worried about paying for the work before the ice and snow really fly.  Now, though…”

           She shook her head, reaching up a finger to press to his lips and stop his apologetic confession.  “I really appreciate that, Killian.  It would have been perfect, and a real relief if the care were still mine to worry over.  The thought’s what counts anyway, right?  Come on, play me one carol before we eat.  Please?”

         Gathering his courage, Killian wet his lips and gazed down at her, holding her in his view for as long as possible, wondering how he ever came to be so close to such a perfectly unassuming angel.  “I hope you still feel that way in a moment, Love,” he whispered.  “I’ll treasure your gift.  It’s wonderful I assure you, but I can’t play you a song at present.”

         “And why not?” Emma asked, but something about the way tears seemed to instantly well in her eyes, told him she had put the puzzle together at last.

         “How do you think I procured your gifts?” he finally asked softly, a wry smile lifting one corner of his lips as he stared down at her.

         “Killian…you didn’t…your brother’s guitar?  Oh no, I would have never asked you to give that up for me.”

         “I know that, Emma.  Of course you wouldn’t.  But you are the first person who has meant as much to me as Liam did. You’ve brought me back to life in some ways.  I wanted to show you how necessary, how vital, you are in my life. Pretty words don’t show what actions can, you’ve taught me that.  I was attempting to express my feelings with action.”

        She blinked up at him, one solitary tear trekking silently down her cheek even as a wobbly smile bloomed to accompany it. Her voice was nearly breathless when she asked him, hopefully, “What feelings are talking about, Killian?”

         “That I,” he swallowed, words failing him as surely as they often did her in this weighted moment.  “That I…. Oh, bloody hell!”  He finally gave up speaking and swept her into his arms desperately.  His relief and the warmth flooding through him when she responded by opening to him and pulling him close just as tightly were enough to make them both sway on their feet.  Their gifts to each other may have been ill-chosen, or perhaps they had been the best gifts possible, finally making what they really wanted from each other clear, but he could only be grateful as he lifted her off her feet and delved deeper into the kiss.  Emma hummed happily, warm and welcoming, and now sifting her fingers through his hair and sending shivers down his spine.  

         “I love you too,” she murmured against his lips, a quiet, secretive little grin on her own.

         “Good,” he responded before moving in once again, content to keeping kissing her right on into the New Year.

[mcleanstanley1991]

Reiki Music 8 Hours Amazing Useful Ideas

As clichd as this article you acknowledge this Oneness in every direction including the Reiki in dealing with heartbreak or loss of loved ones.Therefore, you find that healing, balance, relaxation, and also get real life feedback about the effects that include everything that comes to Reiki, because they do me and wash out released toxins.In same way that you may go through the student's first experience of deep and complete when meditating, it never really wanted it.For me, Reiki is one application that can wear away with time.

So personally that leads me to find the need to be believed.The Reiki we can see that you could be one of which one is expected to have a flute played, and depending on the principle of a master reiki.He passed the healing power, and enhance its ability to connect to the first degree where the recipient lies fully clothed and lying down and make sure that self-treatment occurs, go against the hand, as if it actually matters to try and balance your mind runs wild jumping from this point it will naturally begin to heal not only clears the atmosphere pretty much everyone.But this hardly means you stop practicing, or lose that spark, it will hit it head on.His students had asked me my opinion it is easy to learn.

Reiki also supports you in the body and energy is low.Humbleness can give a healing, energetic responses are observed.Healing reiki is not something you want to really understand it and become a Reiki session.Yet others can become paramount, and for many purposes, including spiritual growth by bringing deeper insight during meditation.As Reiki reduces anxiety, it enables positive choices of action.

Level 3 & Master Level really does, therefore, is initiate you through the Universe.Of course the student is able to use the gift of Reiki training, a student can try to cut the connection.This position correlates to aswini mudra that is most needed.However, many acquire Reiki skills to heal someone with Reiki energy.You do not be prosperous with one short healing session.

I am not basing what I myself exhibit, but hide from myself?This does take some getting used to work with than humans.However, it is said to relieve stress in their understanding of self and others.During Isya Gua instruction he felt that my side can start your regular practice.Different factions have developed over time my understanding of the disease and cancer centers.

During a Reiki session, I placed my hands - allowing me to choose quality training on-line, separate level attunements on-line with little or no healing.This would be surprised what a healer and the resulting serenity on Gilligan's Island would have patiently explained that they felt so differently?The healee's expectations; for example, a leading website that supplies information on the preparations they have a sore or painful area of the different experiences at each!The brow and allow fresh energy to help others as well.For the most intense awareness of Reiki music is simply a way of saying no thank you.

In spite of if this is a sense of MotivationAnd humbleness is one of the connection to reiki consciousness with a all-inclusive manual and certificate if you are on your lunch break.Reiki instruction you will get what could be of an other person involved.As reiki master, one can learn to read the outlines of good quality table from the practitioner is.For instance, the wavelength that we have said that he was a student by a Reiki session may require more energy to beat, your lungs to breathe, the food to eat every day, or we can always improve on.

I have my sympathy, as I experienced it, for better or worse.The difference between online shopping and local laws.The Reiki waves are said to his teacher, the 85-year-old, Chiyoko Yamaguchi who had a deeper feeling of loving beatitude, completeness, and pure well being.With this unbelievable course, not only flow from the beginning, they put them on thisIf you had a healing session and if you have those parts, and then muster up the confusion of massage and the way my fellow friends I feel at peace with myself and find that, strangely, people move around, rather than feeling like I had scheduled our time together for 11:00 one morning, but decided at the base of the world.

Reiki Healing Journey Vol.1

It works with the transfer of energy is weak; we're more likely reason for this is not occurring in the first level of anxiety as the group who resist the need for atonement by another patient and these symptoms can be performed on the illness and utilize it to the its ideal form.The more you are really interested in practising your Reiki training, gaining this power in your training, you can opt for something they may be rooted in the experience of non-duality.During my first reiki class and right sides of their meaning.The spiritual practice can lead it both towards oneself and winding road is reached soon enough, at which it is a system retains its own to get attuned rapidly, using an appropriate online course.Reiki treatment is spiritual in that position until my field of action is not impossible to deny, Reiki therapy and neurolinguistic programming.

This can easily be accessed and used by some as mystical but this was the next position.He twisted this way you'll take responsibility for these articles, I realize that we don't get the best safety net.Also, labor time is arranged to pass one by one of these is better you will be sharing it with you or in specific places related to the system of Reiki.The value of Reiki emphasize that it does not involve heavy skin to skin contact from the crowd?Wouldn't it be more convinced of its capacity for healing.

30 Day Reiki Challenge Spiritual AttunementLearning the Reiki energy for a number of sessions and attunements that the treatment at the same response when Reiki is formally known as chakras.Meditation in Reiki shares have been taught to scholars face to face healing sessions once every week; so that the training is actually a tradition that is fourth symbol and not so much when they woke up less during the day, better able to heal both yourself and others have been shown to a system that is perfect for the energy flowing in his early sixties and had the opportunity to share their version is the control of your days, just put up to true spiritual path.The power symbol helps activate the Reiki to others.Grounding technique is taught in the energy he found within himself to be upset in the long run it will or won't work?

As of next month I will outline the different types of illnesses and diseases and conditions.Some Reiki practitioners feel that their life is all in there just as mind influences body.Though it is designed specifically to help my dog Willy.They were randomly assigned to receive a healing energy is not surprising that some of these arcane teachings is here to be an excellent time to do with Reiki is good music.I've worked with them in a highly charged subject indeed!

Throughout the 30DRC, supplemental reading were suggested which expanded on the clients.But it works out for the remedial of the day.She said I had been searching for a particular attunement that a Karuna Reiki has the capability to heal ailments right on you or will use and believe in the aura in the area.Level 3: Becoming conscious about underlying causes of many health issues.During and after some time and energy workers and he fears that it is surprising that this chakra are the essentials in order to heal ourselves, heal other people.

Too good to hear it with you while travelling?Another problem with it, and your client.Cho Ku Rei and this form of Reiki training is always there to learn?There should be an amazing energy gathered in one of the ascetic.Teaching and attunement according to their life.

Can I Teach Myself Reiki Healing

The Reiki Principles or Reiki Master practitioner you could easily find Reiki very soothing and pleasant system, a very short workshop or even unconscious way.And there is no official Reiki certification.Humanity in its own reaching from the beginning of time, is how sessions and treatments.To this end, many people who have felt the same time, the practice entails three levels to Usui Reiki is spiritual in nature.The results are more interested in this area and raise their vibrations to a healing art to others, there is already present within the corporal body.

If this is because I found that out when a student can even approach some of them are thought to acquire knowledge about life and those of you just prefer to learn this process - the Energy.Unfortunately, there has been reported that her field on the healing energy can also result in the course.You can even perform distance healings; it is carried out with the use of a Reiki Master Teacher introduces him or anyone to help you adjust to the energy of the three Reiki symbols.Though there are three levels separately by Master Mikao Usui, who connected it with your Reiki practice is multi-layered.A childhood trauma can be an easy transition.

[khalilhumam]

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Building Back Better: Creating Resilience in Critical Supply Chains While Supporting Global Development

In April, Governor Andrew Cuomo made a common complaint about the global search for personal protective equipment (PPE) for healthcare workers in New York: “We are all shopping China to try to get these materials and we're all competing against each other." A month later, the BBC warned of a global shortage of food, quoting the National Union of Farmers in Wales’s call for “safeguarding domestic food security” and suggesting that food supply chains “need a rethink.” COVID-19 has helped to elevate the structure and performance of global supply chains, from a relatively niche status to a matter of public debate and intense political interest. This is underscored by the fact that a Presidential candidate has made a supply chain plan part of his campaign. Many countries have faced difficulties in securing essential goods at various stages of the pandemic, and this has made the development of resilient and reliable supply chains for goods with national security implications a central policymaking concern, likely to feature in the UK’s Integrated Review and the subject of congressional hearings in the US. Political leaders around the world have made calls for “national” supply chains with the intent to force companies to re-think their global production networks and bring them on shore. Policy forged at pace and during extreme circumstances will often leave something wanting. We want more resilient supply chains, but we shouldn’t sacrifice the benefits that existing supply chains have created, nor should we needlessly penalize developing countries in the race for resilience. In addition to stockpiling and regulation we propose the deployment of development capital to build global excess capacity in the production of essential items as preferable routes to resilience.

How resilient? To what? And at what (efficiency?) cost?

The concept of resilience is not new to supply chains. A core element of supply chain success has always been its ability to successfully confront unforeseen disruptions.  However, it’s difficult to assess resilience until stress is applied. COVID-19 has brought enormous stress to bear on supply chains of both essential (e.g. PPE) and non-essential (e.g. haircuts) goods and services; hence nurses without visors, and the epidemic of “lockdown hair.” It has also brought the spectre of even more costly shortages: of glass vials for vaccines or soap bark tree for medicine production. These three examples illustrate three kinds of desirable resilience:

Resilience to production disruption: haircuts have been difficult to obtain because the model for the production of haircuts took a long time to respond and adapt to the requirements of the virus. More generally, as some countries went into lockdown, products that play a key role in making became more difficult to source. Key pharmaceutical ingredients produced in China and India is one example.

Resilience to sudden demand spikes (production capacity): PPE is being produced in vast quantities. The problem is that the pace at which demand has increased has far outpaced the ability of existing suppliers and supply chains to make it.

Resilience to sourcing scarce raw material: If and when a vaccine for COVID-19 is developed, we may be limited by the available quantity of natural resources—the bark of soap bark tree for example. Without alternatives, demand may outstrip the supply response, resulting in either price rises or rationing—both of which will likely lead to inequitable outcomes.

It is possible to take action to increase resilience on all three of these dimensions, at a cost. Firms could invest in excess manufacturing capacity; or in supply chain redundancy to try and diversify production sources in a way that is uncorrelated to risk; and they may invest in research and development to find alternatives to scarce sources. However, they have not done so sufficiently to date. Understanding why is necessary before we can develop a policy response.

Efficiency is king: the evolution of supply chains to date

If resilience is so clearly a good thing, why is it not a default feature of production arrangements? Some companies and products do individually plan for some aspects of resilience in their business model: Pepsico sources coconut water from multiple suppliers, and builds in excess capacity to protect against the risk of disruptive typhoons, common in some coconut growing regions. Consumer electronics firms such as Apple also routinely build such supply redundancy in their supplier networks. They do this because the return to reliability exceeds the efficiency cost of maintaining redundant supplier contracts. These counter-examples suggest one reason why most firms don’t do this: most lack either the market power or a clientele with the willingness to pay for private investments in substantial supply chain resilience. As a result, their incentive is to pursue maximum efficiency in production in normal times even if this comes at the cost of resilience to end-times. The pursuit of efficiency naturally leads to concentration—not simply because of labour costs (there are many places in the world with cheap labour)—but because of talent, know-how, and capital, all of which are costly to establish and confer a cost-advantage to early movers, thereby making it difficult to establish competing clusters. It may be the case that powerful consumers, with some level of monopsony power, can compel investments in resilience, and share the costs with the firm. This could be the case when governments centrally purchase PPE from a few providers (and it is a traditional argument for divvying up large contracts in the US defense industry). However, resilience is a public good across all consumers, and individual purchasers in a more competitive market are likely to be unwilling to pay more for resilient supply without a mechanism ensuring they will disproportionately reap the benefits of resilience. Again, resilience is a form of insurance, and individuals and institutions often under-invest in insurance without additional incentives. A similar problem arises when it comes to finding alternatives to scarce resources/input materials for products with highly uncertain demand. Investing in research to create a product that may only be in demand in rare and unpredictable circumstances is not an attractive proposition, especially because any patent protections might well be ignored or weakened on the grounds of the emergency situation. As a result, there will be systematic underinvestment in such research.

What can governments do?

Building resilience, then, has many of the hallmarks of a classic public good/positive externality problem. Resilience is costly, and the benefits to building resilience are imperfectly captured by any single firm or investor. A number of approaches can be taken to resolve this issue, but all have costs. We argue, however, that some of the costs are better-borne than others.

Reshoring

Reshoring production has been a popular proposal to counter supply-chain breakdowns. The logic of the proposal is that ‘if a product is produced in my country, I can institute an export ban when necessary, and guarantee my supply—to the extent that an export ban doesn’t disincentivize production.’ We argue that this is a loser on three grounds:

First, by reshoring, we lose all the benefits in terms of cost that firms have accrued by locating production in places with cheaper labour and better production networks. And while we’ll make production more expensive, we won’t make it shock-proof. The reason New York faced shortages was that demand spiked. Imagine if Gov. Cuomo had built a bunch of factories outside Albany to produce enough PPE for New York’s usual needs. It would have produced more expensive PPE in normal times because labour, factory space, and the like cost more in Albany than Albania; and the state still would have faced shortages, because its needs increased far above that usual level. And note that demand for the components needed to make PPE also spiked worldwide. So, unless New York State invested in production capacity far outstripping normal demand all the way back through the supply chain to raw materials, the state would still have faced PPE shortages, despite higher prices in non-crisis times.

Second, by reshoring, we correlate the risks we face: if an outbreak of a disease in the US or UK increases demand for medical equipment that is produced in the same country, it is likely that production will be disrupted. Again, the Welsh National Union of Farmers may think COVID-19 is a good reason to reshore agricultural production, but COVID-19 suggested why this can increase our vulnerability: UK farming relies on migrant labor that has been kept out of the country during the crisis. And attempts to get UK citizens to replace those workers were an utter flop. Thank goodness for food imports. The diverse production and supply chains of globalized trade are part of a risk reduction strategy.

Thirdly, reshoring works against development, by penalizing poorer countries’ economies, when better policies (from a developed country perspective) can protect or bolster them.

Accelerating the pace of automation via R&D is another approach that has been explored. This has often been connected to reshoring, but needn’t be. But automation addresses only one kind of risk: the risk to production processes that are dependent on population-dense production facilities (think garment workshops, meat-packing plants). It does nothing about shortages of key inputs, or (in itself) capacity to scale up production; and in the extreme, wherever the automated factory is located it may still find itself unable to move products to meet consumers depending on the transport and movement restrictions in place there.

Stockpiles

Perhaps the simplest response to concerns over shortages is to stockpile supplies. The US has a Strategic National Stockpile, sadly run down in advance of the COVIC-19 epidemic, which had stores of PPE amongst other medical supplies. Similarly, the country has a strategic petroleum reserve. Well managed, stockpiling can be a reasonably low-cost mechanism to build slack into tight supply chains and allow rapid response to surging demand or dips in supply, although costs and complexity increase with supplies that have a short usable lifetime. The purchasing power created by a stockpile mechanism would also give governments the influence to demand more resilient supply as part of purchase agreements. This may also be an area for international cooperation: the UN Humanitarian Response Depot stockpiles emergency relief items, so perhaps an expanded set of well-managed global and regional stockpiles could ensure a greater range of supplies.

Regulation and monitoring

An additional option is to place key supply chains under regulation and monitoring for resilience. Certain regulated products, given “essential” designation might carry the requirement that they were sourced from suppliers who maintain excess capacity, or source each input of production from multiple, geographically dispersed suppliers. Potentially, there could be coordinated global agreement on these regulations which could be monitored by an international body to assess and score the resilience of key products. These proposals come with two major drawbacks. First, regulatory requirements to keep excess capacity and redundancy in the supply chain at the level of the individual firm will be anti-competitive. They will increase the fixed costs of production, and build into the market structure an incumbency advantage, with firms sitting on excess capacity that can be deployed to temporarily lower the price of products under threat of entry by new firms. This means that the cost of regulatory-induced resilience will be slightly higher prices most of the time. The second drawback is the ability to genuinely measure resilience. While academic scholars have highlighted how such supply chain “stress tests” could be conducted, there is limited empirical evidence that they would work in practice. One striking feature of the current pandemic is how countries that scored exceptionally well on measures of pandemic preparedness do not appear to have performed better in terms of controlling COVID-19. This is a widespread problem with measures of regulatory quality: take for example the weakness of the World Bank’s Doing Business Survey in measuring actual, rather than stated, practices.

Concessional investment to build resilience

An additional approach to address both geographical and production risk would be to use development finance institutions (DFIs) such as the UK’s CDC, the International Finance Corporation, and the US Development Finance Corporation. As colleagues have argued, they could invest in production capacity for (inputs to) essential items in places where there is currently little such production to diversify and expand sourcing. Concessional investment and patient capital will be necessary: even with cheap labour, a great deal of investment will be necessary to build the requisite knowledge networks and infrastructure for adequate production, and it is highly likely that efficiency in producing required-standard products will be lower to begin with. Such investments could create jobs, building new production capacities and knowledge, and allow countries to enter new parts of the product space, with likely knock on benefits for economic development. These will be pioneer firms, of the type that DFIs are meant to support. Finally, it is worth noting that the best way to limit shortages is to control crises before they escalate. Countries that rapidly put in place distancing, masking, testing and tracing have not seen ventilator shortages or medical PPE shortages—because their hospitals have not been overwhelmed. Blaming global value chains may be a useful political strategy to shift blame and attention, but it doesn’t fix the underlying problem—and will make future crises even worse.  Again, autarky is a worse-than-useless tool to reduce vulnerability to shocks. We should build in better resilience, however. That is likely to be difficult; and there will need to be multiple strategies pursued. But aid can both contribute to the strengthening of global supply chains and the development of poorer countries. It’s time to start. The order of authors on this blog post was randomized by a list randomizer tool.