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#it's been 12 months yet his little sister has changed on many levels and it's apparent from the moment they lock eyes
msommers · 1 year
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the vibe after spending a mere few minutes thinking about meredith's pre-blight connections and how they drastically change after like 11-18 months
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anurapoda · 11 months
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When you stood by me
Words: 743 Vent piece about my sister and my upcoming graduation.
The neighbor's dog barks as a car pulls up beside our home, followed by another that makes us pause. You step in front of me as I continue running my hands through rough fur, and soon the police officer approaches.
His question is simple and we answer without hesitation, "Where is your mom?" after all, it's not like us saying she's inside will make our worlds shatter. Right?
I remember crying as I packed my bags, unsure of what to bring. I remember contemplating if I should bring my rock collection but ultimately deciding against it. After all, we'll be back soon and I can look at them then.
I ask you what's going to happen to our mom, and you say you don't care. I didn't understand the anger behind your words at the time, but now I do. Funny how it took me so many years to accept the truth you had already seen at the age of 13.
With a garbage bag of clothes, a nice lady puts us in a car and we're off. We stay with our aunt for a month, but she has a child of her own and no room for us. Our grandmother takes us of course, she'd never let us go into the system.
She gives me the spare room and you the couch, after all back then I was the little girl who needed privacy. I look back and roll my eyes at that, you deserved it as well.
We move into a bigger house on my 12th birthday, I was so excited. Although both rooms were identical we convinced ourselves one was larger, you got that one.
At least you did for a while. During your time in that room that now stands empty, I watched as you changed. You stopped going to school, you started smoking weed, and soon it became more than that. I looked past these changes and blinded myself to the person that was blossoming from the rubble of who you once were.
It was a hot September afternoon when it boiled over. At the time I didn't understand, I blamed our aunt for sending you to the group home. Although I still don't agree with what she did, I no longer blame her.
I don't think I ate for a few days after you left, too overcome with grief for someone who was still alive. Eventually, we started visiting, those were my favourite times. I ignored the ways you were changing still, assuring myself you were still the sister I loved.
You moved in with our mother when you were 16, I still don't understand why. I followed shortly after, emotionally manipulated by the woman who birthed us. I left after 6 months, realizing my mistake and that she hadn't changed.
When you returned to school I was so proud. You had always been so smart, especially with math and numbers. I always imagined you doing something great someday, maybe becoming an engineer. After all, you did love tinkering with things.
A few months later you would drop out of school for the final time. To this day you have no plans of returning for your grade 12.
I graduate next month. I should be celebrating, but I can't find a reason to. Why am I still mourning someone who's not dead, someone who never existed? Why am I mourning the person I know you could have been?
I do not blame you for where you are now. I know on some level I should, but I cannot bring myself to. You have been through hell and back, and have experienced so many things I was spared of because of your sacrifice. Yet I find myself so sad yet angry when I look at you.
Of course, I invited you to my graduation. I wish I could have attended yours. I wish you were the one on that stage. I wish you were the one going to college this fall. I wish things had ended differently.
I wish you would get the help you deserve.
Instead, I will graduate before you despite being 2 years younger. Will I ever get to see you do the same? I know you could be an amazing person, and it fills me with grief that you've ended up the way you have.
So no, I am not happy to graduate. I am too busy mourning someone who gave up too soon.
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laurenairay · 3 years
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Prove You Wrong - J. Skinner
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Summary: Audrey James, the girl with the loving heart, and Jeff Skinner, the boy with the brilliant smile, had been best friends for most of their lives – will their friendship ever develop into anything more?
Word Count: 9.1k
Warnings: pining, childhood friends to lovers, a little angst, a lot of cute fluff
A/N: I’ve wanted to write for Jeff for a while because I love this smiley pretty boy - and now that I’ve reached a new follower milestone (600!!) I thought I’d finally crack this out! I hope you all like it 💖
Tagging some lovely people who make hockeyblr a better place for me: @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ @danglesnipecelly​ @texanstarslove​ @princessphilly​ @broadstbroskis​ @denis-scorianov​ @chicagoblackhawkslover96​ @kallmekmk​ @thebookofmags​
*
“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” – Emily Brontë
Audrey James had known Jeff Skinner for as long as she could remember. Having grown up together in Markham, Ontario, Jeff the second youngest of six siblings and Audrey the youngest of four siblings, they’d bonded so quickly – and so strongly. Where Jeff went, Audrey was sure be by his side, most often a calming presence, a balancing figure, even from a young age.
When Jeff started skating like his siblings, Audrey was scooting along beside him.
When Jeff started figure skating lessons, Audrey twirled right there with him.
When Jeff started hockey practice too…Audrey helped him practice in his backyard.
She kept his many emotions as level as possible – he made sure she strayed out of her comfort zone. Friends came and went, schools changed, injuries healed, but things never changed between Jeff and Audrey. She trusted him as wholly as he trusted her, and their friendship only grew stronger every year. It didn’t matter that they couldn’t have been more different in appearance and personality – her long straight blonde hair versus his dark brown curls, or her grey eyes versus his brown eyes, or even her sweet retiring nature versus his joyful energetic nature. They complemented each other perfectly, balancing each other out and boosting each other up, and this only strengthened as they grew older.
Summers were spent practicing hockey in the backyard with all of their many siblings, road hockey games leaving sunburn, grazed knees, the occasional tears, sticky ice-cream and fond memories. Whenever Jeff got cuts on his knees, elbows or on one occasion his chin, he accepted Audrey’s pretty princess bandaids with a shaky smile. Whenever Audrey got knocked on her ass (by accident) by one of the older girls, she blinked away her tears as Jeff fiercely defended her, yelling at his sisters and hers in turn. When Jeff’s curls got too much for the summer heat, she held his hand as his dad clipped his hair short, watching sadly as the curls fell to the ground. When Audrey broke her arm in the last hockey game of the season, Jeff pestered his sisters to teach him how to braid their hair, so he could surprise Audrey by braiding her long blonde hair back out of her face for her, earning him the biggest smile he had ever seen. Every summer held a special memory for Audrey and Jeff, the sweetness of childhood and the beauty of friendship, and it didn’t matter what else was going on, what other friends joined or left – they always made time for each other. Summers were their thing, even more so when Jeff went to Kitchener – this made summers even more special, their time to spend together without normal-life distractions, and Audrey treasured it more than anything.
Time seemed to only be going past faster as they grew older though, and with that came changes. Growing up came with growing out of love with figure skating for Audrey.
While her interest in figure skating waned by the time she was 12, she never lost interest in his skating, whether that was figure skating or ice hockey. Audrey was even there watching with his family at the Canadian Junior National Figure Skating Championships (she couldn’t have been more proud of his bronze medal) before he chose to focus just on hockey. And as for hockey – Audrey truly was his biggest supporter. She went to every game possible, with either his family or with hers as well, and whether it was a win or a loss, Audrey was ready with a big hug and a smile. And Jeff appreciated it more than he could ever say. When he heard murmurs of people commenting on his small size, she would fiercely defend him, insisting that his speed, skill and heart were more than anyone could ever hope to measure up to. Because it was true. Jeff had always been special, Audrey knew that, and her heart could only fill with pride as he continued to prove people wrong.
But he never proved her wrong. She always knew he was going to be magnificent.
That was the funny thing about love – when you know, you know. And Audrey had known how she felt about the boy with the brilliant smile for a very long time. Her heart had been Jeff’s before she even knew what it meant, and as they grew older, especially as early teenagers, Audrey realised just what her feelings for her best friend meant.
She knew there was a glimmer of hope that Jeff felt the same. She knew that Jeff shared things with her (thoughts, feelings, fears) that he shared with no-one else. She knew that there were moments that lingered with a what if? She knew that the boys on his teams always teased him for having a girl best friend and that he always shrugged it off. She knew that the way he blushed around her sometimes was more than just nothing.
But she also knew that she could never tell him how she felt. Why? Because even at 16 she knew that he was destined to play in the NHL – and she wanted a career of her own too. Was it selfish? Perhaps. Was there a hint of cowardice? Perhaps. The thing is, Audrey had only ever known herself by Jeff’s side – and she wanted the chance to know who she was without him, as much as the very thought scared her.
So when Jeff was drafted to Kitchener, Audrey buckled down in school to get herself into college. She still went to as many games of Jeff’s as she could, still told him all the time of how proud she was, still phoned him every week to talk about anything and everything, still went with him family to his draft day and cried when he was selected 7th overall by the Carolina Hurricanes.
He was finally living his dream – now it was time to live hers.
Over the next four years, Audrey completed a civil engineering degree from University of Toronto. Staying in Toronto meant she got to stay close to her family – and to Jeff’s, who she saw in some capacity at least once a month. And naturally, regardless of exams or school events, if Jeff was in town playing the Leafs, Audrey would be there watching with his family – always with that big hug and a smile.
And as Jeff’s career continued to soar, Audrey’s narrowed into focus. After another year in education, completing a Masters in Environmental Sciences, she graduated straight into a job for a green energy company, staying in Toronto like she always had done. Same old Audrey.
That was, until the summer of 2018. That was the summer that Jeff got traded to Buffalo. That was the summer that Audrey’s company offered her a promotion with the condition that it came with an office transfer…to Buffalo. She would be managing her own pollution project with a small team, her first by herself but an opportunity that she knew she was ready for. And Jeff had been ecstatic – the nerves and anxiety of moving to a new city, to a new team, was lessened by the promise of being in the same city as his best friend after all these years. Audrey called it a happy coincidence. Her mom called it fate and a kick up the backside.
She ignored her mom on that one.
Two years passed and that happy coincidence was working out perfectly. Around both of their busy schedules, they tried to see each as often as possible, whether it was dinners after a long day in the lab, meeting each other for lunch nearby Audrey’s office, weekends off chilling on the sofa, or going out for drinks after her meetings or after his games.
With that came the standing tickets that Jeff always put aside of Audrey for all home games he played in. Audrey had yet to miss one, so happy she got to give him that big hug and a smile like she used to when they were younger.
And Jeff couldn’t have been happier. He had his calming rock, his confidante, the person he could be his most vulnerable self with. Just like he listened to her vent over her frustrating lab results or her long admin days in the office, she listened to him vent about his stresses in hockey. She listened to him get angry and sad and frustrated and desperate about the slump he had last year – and every time she reminded him of the love he has for the sport, for his career, always encouraging and telling him that if nothing else, she thought he was wonderful. She also listened to his nerves and excitement about Eric getting traded to Buffalo this summer, knowing that as much as Jeff was worried that things would be different within his friendship with his old mentor, their reunion would be a good thing for both players.
Audrey was his everything, and Jeff only wished he could show her how much she truly meant to him.
*
One thing that moving to Buffalo did change about their relationship was that they both saw the other one go on dates. Sure, Audrey was well aware that Jeff’s charm had worked well for him in Raleigh, and Jeff was more than well aware that Audrey turned heads wherever she went, but before they’d never seen the other one going on a date or being in a relationship.
Not that either of them had lasting relationships over the past two years, but there had definitely been enough dates to affect both of their hearts.
Audrey was the one that was currently dating – had been on a few dates now with the same guy. David. Jeff had weird vibes from this one already and he hadn’t even met him. But just from the way that Audrey described him, recounted their dates, Jeff had a bad feeling about this guy. David was an attorney, ambitious and confident, and he’d taken Audrey out to three fancy cocktail bars, a night out watching a play, and two very fancy restaurants, but…Jeff didn’t know. He just had that niggling thought that something wasn’t quite right about him.
And unfortunately, Jeff was proven right.
It was 10pm on the night of their seventh date that Jeff’s phone rang. Audrey. A pang of dread ran through him, and he quickly answered.
“Hey, Aud, you okay?” he asked, worried.
“No. He…”
He heard her take a shaky breath, and immediately felt sick.
“I’m coming over,” Jeff said, walking over to his front door and shoving on the first pair of shoes he picked up.
“Jeff, no, it’s okay,”
“I’m coming over,” he repeated firmly, before sighing, “you sound like you need a hug,”
Audrey choked out a laugh, settling Jeff’s stomach a little. At least she could still laugh.
“I’ll be with you soon, okay?” Jeff said softly.
“Yeah, okay. See you soon,”
He wasted no time in driving over to her apartment, potentially pushing the speed limit a little, but as soon as he saw her tear-streaked face he knew it was worth it.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” Jeff cooed.
As soon as he pulled her into his arms, Audrey started crying into his chest, making Jeff curse under his breath. He carefully walked her backwards, shutting the front door behind himself, and manoeuvred them both over to the sofa, letting her curl up on his lap. It was all he could do to hold her tightly as she cried, rubbing her back and murmuring nonsense into her blonde curls, trying not to tense up too much as he plotted David’s murder in his head.
Eventually she calmed down enough to lift her head, the smudged mascara under her eyes breaking her heart. He rubbed at the marks with his thumb, making her laugh a little watery, before he sent her an encouraging smile.
“So what happened?” he asked softly.
Audrey’s bottom lip wobbled briefly, before she took a deep breath.
“He broke up with me,” she whispered.
Jeff immediately scowled, and Audrey’s lips twitched in a smile.
“That asshole,” Jeff growled.
“Well, it wasn’t a break-up break-up because we were never official, but it was 7 dates, y’know? I thought we were exclusive and heading somewhere,” Audrey sighed.
“It was still the end of something important, Aud. And you liked him,” Jeff said firmly.
“Yeah, I did,” she said shakily, sniffing as her eyes filled with tears again.
“Hey, no, don’t waste any more tears on that asshole,” Jeff said sadly, cupping her face with both hands.
Then he squished her cheeks making her pout like a fish until she giggled, batting at his hands to let her go. Jeff smiled again, earning a soft smile back.
“Did he say why he wanted to break up?” Jeff asked, wincing.
Audrey swallowed heavily, dropping her eyes from his face, before she forced a smile on her lips.
“Apparently he didn’t want to waste any more time trying to get into my pants when he could get sex on tap with his secretary,” she said as calmly as possible.
Jeff’s jaw dropped, rage immediately flooding through his body. Audrey saw this and held her hand up to stop him exploding, which barely made him simmer down.
“Oh that fucking asshole!” Jeff spat, hands gripping onto her hips where she was still sitting on his lap.
She just nodded, smiling sadly. “At least I never actually slept with him,”
“Thank fucking god for that,” Jeff scowled.
Audrey placed her hand over his heart, making him look at her properly. “Hey, it’s okay. Well, it’s not, but it’s better that I know now than before we went into anything more, right?”
Jeff’s anger melted down a little, realising that she was trying to be brave, trying to protect herself, and steeled himself, nodding.
“Yeah, you are so much better off without him. He never deserved you,” Jeff said firmly.
“I know you didn’t like him,” Audrey said dryly, making Jeff blush a little.
“No, I didn’t. But you did. I only ever want you to be happy,” he said softly.
Now it was Audrey’s turn to blush.
“I know. And I appreciate that,” she said sweetly, although the sadness in her eyes told him she wasn’t quite there yet.
Jeff smiled sadly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her blonde hair.
“I’m here for you, no matter what. You know that,” he said, looking into her grey eyes.
Audrey’s eyes filled with tears again, and she looked away, trying to blink away the sadness that he didn’t deserve.
“Are you okay?” he frowned.
“Yeah,” she sniffed, nodding.
Jeff paused for a moment, looking over Audrey’s exhausted face properly.
“Honest answer?” he pushed.
She choked out a laugh, a small smile teasing at her lips. She should’ve known she couldn’t fool him, not the one person who knew her better than anyone.
“No,” she admitted.
Jeff nodded, smiling sadly, as if he had expected that response. “Would it help if I stayed?”
“Oh god, so much. But you-”
“If you’re about to finish that sentence with don’t have to then I will be so mad,” Jeff interrupted, raising an eyebrow, making Audrey blush lightly, “You’re my best friend, Aud, of course I want to stay,”
“Okay then,” Audrey said softly, “let’s get to bed then,”
Jeff followed her silently, smiling at the familiarity. This was far from the first time they’d shared a bed, sleepovers when they were younger a very common thing, and it wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed in Buffalo either, a few drunken nights out leaving them passed out snuggling. But it was the first time they’d shared a bed after a broken heart – and that changed things.
They stayed silent as they got ready for bed, Jeff just pushing off his sweatpants to leave him in his t-shirt and underwear while Audrey changed into short-shorts and an old t-shirt, but Jeff was basically vibrating with the need to talk by the time Audrey came back from the bathroom.
“You know what, this isn’t enough,” Jeff said suddenly.
Audrey jumped at the sharpness in his voice, earning a sheepish smile from her best friend.
“You deserve to be happy. I want to make you happy,” Jeff said softly.
“You already do, Jeff,” she said, a little confused.
“I just mean…you deserve a date that makes you happy. You deserve to be so happy. So I want to take you out,” Jeff explained.
Audrey inhaled sharply. What did he…
Take her out?
Jeff saw the confusion, the nerves, the hope on her face, and swallowed heavily. Maybe he hadn’t been thinking when he first opened his mouth, but now he couldn’t take the words back. He didn’t want to take the words back.
He wanted to take her out.
He’d wanted to take her out for so long, the urge getting stronger and stronger with every terrible date she went on, with every terrible guy she met. He’d loved the girl with the loving heart for as long as he’d known what love is, but she’d always been just out of reach, never the right moment. And he didn’t want to scare her off, not after her heartbreak tonight. So…a dinner could work, right?
But he had to do this properly. She deserved that.
“Go out to dinner with me. Tomorrow night?” Jeff asked softly.
“In what context?” Audrey found herself asking.
Because as much as she wanted to curse herself for not just saying yes, she needed to know. Jeff chewed his bottom lip, thinking over his words carefully, and Audrey just waited with a fluttering heart.
“I want to make you happy. Can we just say that for now?” Jeff eventually said.
Audrey let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding but nodded. That…perhaps that was for the best for now. The thought of anything more, so out of the blue, after such a bad break-up, was extremely overwhelming. The thought of anything more with Jeff in itself was overwhelming after so long. Maybe it would feel too weird at dinner with him – keeping it low-key would limit any damage to their friendship, right?
“I would like that,” she nodded.
The smile that Jeff sent her was devastatingly happy, and it was impossible not to smile back.
“So we’ll have breakfast together before you have to leave for work, and then I’ll come come back around 7 to pick you up?” Jeff suggested.
It was all Audrey could do to nod, the smile still on her face. Whatever tomorrow night would bring, whether it was just a nice dinner out or the start of something new, she couldn’t wait.
*
7pm came around for Audrey before she even realised it. Her outfit was on, her hair was curled and pinned half-up half-down, and she was wearing a cute little pair of heels she had been saving for a special moment. And this was a special moment, no matter what they’d agreed. The butterflies in her stomach told her that much.
Of course she’d gone into work and told her colleagues all about what happened with David (who were all completely shocked and disgusted – and she had her suspicions that one of them would send him a glitter bomb to his office), as well as letting her older siblings know in their group chat. Her oldest sister Laura offered to send an anonymous tip to his work place to ruin him. Her older brother Simon offered to fly down and punch him in the throat. Her sister closest-to-her-in-age Dana offered to visit for as long as Audrey needed. She smiled and thanked all of them, but said it wasn’t necessary and that Jeff was taking care of her. Laura and Simon teased her like they usually did (and she knew that Laura, who was good friends with Jeff’s sister Jennifer, would be telling the Skinner family too), but Dana messaged her separately.
Because after Jeff, it was Dana who knew her best. And Dana could tell that something was different this time.
So Audrey had confessed everything during a call on her lunch break, telling her sister how Jeff had asked her out to dinner, admitting that it wasn’t quite a date but that he wanted to make her happy. Dana, naturally, had been over the moon, basically squealing in excitement down the phone, but Audrey had sworn her to secrecy. It wasn’t a date date. Nothing had been said between them. And she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Reluctantly Dana agreed to keep quiet for now, but she did insist on helping Audrey get ready for their not-date after work.
And to be honest, Audrey had really appreciated the confidence boost. Over video call, her sister her helped her narrow down her outfit to a cute long sleeved blue dress with a swishy skirt, knowing that blue really made her hair and her eyes pop. Pairing that with the cute comfy silver heels and a matching silver bag, Audrey was waiting by the door with her grey coat in hand, trying not to chew off her lipstick.
Then her phone buzzed. Dana.
~
From: Dana
Have fun tonight!
I know you’re trying to keep things low-key, but just see what the evening brings.
Go with the flow.
Be open to opportunities.
Call me tomorrow!
~
Audrey couldn’t help but smile, sending back a trio of heart emojis. Her sister really was the best. It was only moments later that Jeff arrived, and she rushed downstairs to meet him with a smile. She could do this. She could be open to possibilities. She could go with the flow.
“Wow, you look amazing,”
Audrey blushed at Jeff’s words, earning a blush back. She looked him up and down dramatically, making him laugh, but to be honest? He looked incredible. Jeff was wearing her favourite dark grey suit, a slight tweed in the pattern, with a white shirt that had the top two buttons undone. Incredible.
“You look great yourself,” she replied.
Jeff’s answering smile made her heart skip a beat. They walked to his car without further hesitation, just talking about their days as he drove, until Jeff parked up outside of a nice sushi restaurant.
“I hope this is okay?” Jeff said hesitantly.
“You know I love sushi,” she mused.
“I know, but we’ve never gone into an actual sushi restaurant, we always just order take-out,” Jeff pointed out.
She put her hand over his on the gear stick, making him inhale sharply.
“Then it’ll make a nice change to try a new setting, Jeff. I’m excited, let’s do this,” she said happily.
Jeff just nodded, the nerves in his stomach settling a little. They ate sushi all the time – this was just a nice dinner. Nothing weird or unusual about this at all. He could totally do this.
The way she looked shyly at him as they walked to the door still made his body thrum with nerves though.
But neither of them should’ve been nervous. The dinner went past so smoothly it felt like magic to Audrey. The food was fantastic – both of them daring the other to try at least one dish they hadn’t had before – and their conversation flowed like it always did. To be honest it felt like their usual nights – if Jeff hadn’t added that level of what if then it wouldn’t have been any different. But he did add it, and neither of them could forget that.
As always, Audrey made Jeff feel like the only guy in the world, her warm smile focused only on him. As always, Jeff made Audrey feel like the most important person in the world, so sweet and kind. And as always, they laughed and smiled and talked, and Audrey couldn’t have been happier.
Jeff achieved what he had promised to do – he had made her so happy. So what next?
They arrived back at Audrey’s apartment building late, having taken a walk after dinner, not wanting the night to end so soon, wanting this idyllic moment to continue on as long as possible.
But eventually they had to call it to an end, both of them having early starts in the morning, as much as they wished otherwise. Like the gentleman he always was with her, Jeff walked Audrey up to the front door of the building, both of them pausing.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Audrey said softly, looking up into Jeff’s eyes.
“So did I,” Jeff replied.
They both blushed, Audrey ducking her head, before she looked back up at him. She’d always seen him look at her like this, so open and happy, but for some reason tonight added another level. He was looking at her like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. And that sent a thrill through her body that both excited her and overwhelmed her. But in a good way?
“I know you’re busy for the next couple of days, but we could do something on Saturday?” Audrey offered.
Jeff nodded so enthusiastically that she couldn’t help but laugh.
“That sounds perfect,” Jeff grinned, not deterred in the slightest, “I’ll bring takeout?”
“I’d like that,” Audrey nodded in agreement.
She bit her bottom lip, hand reaching out to brush against his hand briefly, before she stepped away, heart pounding in her chest.
“Thanks for tonight Jeff. Call me tomorrow?” she said, a little breathless.
“Yeah, of course. See you,” he said, smiling a little hopelessly.
They lingered in silence a little longer, before Audrey laughed, opening her front door as Jeff rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Bye Audrey, sleep tight,” Jeff smiled, finally starting to walk away.
And she absolutely did.
*
Audrey spent the next day in a daze. She’d woken up with more butterflies in her stomach than she ever thought possible, a stupid smile on her face as she read Jeff’s good morning :) text. Last night had been different. So different. But she liked it? She had definitely liked exploring this new side of Jeff, the guy she’d known since they were toddlers, but who walked to their dinner table with a hand on the small of her back and pulled out her chair for her.
He showed her the romantic side of him last night, and she definitely liked what she saw.
And when she gushed down the phone to her sister Dana on her lunch break again, she knew her sister was at least a little smug.
~
“I told you that being open to opportunities was a good thing!”
“I know, I know, but I didn’t expect this,” Audrey laughed.
“What, the boy who’s always been in love with you making you just as happy as we all always knew he would?”
Audrey blushed at the dryness in her sister’s voice, and shook her head.
“He’s not always been in love with me, don’t be ridiculous,” Audrey said simply.
“If I was with you right now I would be shaking you by the shoulders. Talk to him. I swear to god. You know I wouldn’t say it, not now, if I didn’t mean it,”
Audrey swallowed heavily. Dana’s voice had so much conviction in it, like she truly believed what she was saying, and that only sent Audrey’s head into more of a spin. Jeff…was in love with her?
~
That phone call hadn’t helped, to be honest. This was all still throwing her for a loop. Her feelings for Jeff had been building up for two decades, two long decades, and to have the potential of his feelings matching hers? It was almost too much to bear.
And she had to wait until Saturday to be able to see him in person again. This was so much more than something she could do over text, or over a phone call, but she knew that maybe waiting was a good idea. Maybe it would give her time to get her thoughts together, to not be impulsive. Maybe it would give her enough time to get her head around the thought of Jeff’s feelings. Maybe.
The day after that passed with a blur as well, going faster than she thought possible, and even after another phone call with Dana on the Friday night, Audrey still didn’t know what she was thinking. But she knew she had to try. So just after midday, changing into a pretty pale blue dress and curling her hair lightly, she headed over to his house. Jeff opened the door with his usual smile, and he welcomed her in straight away. She bit her bottom lip as he not-so-subtly checked her ass out in the dress, trying to stop the smile that threatened to break out. Maybe. Just maybe.
“So I told Dana about our dinner the other night,” Audrey blurted out.
Damn it.
Jeff’s eyes widened in fear, making Audrey laugh slightly, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I swore her to secrecy, she’s not going to say anything to anyone,” she reassured.
“I mean, if it was Laura you told, I know she would’ve already told Jennifer, and then everyone would know within the hour,” Jeff admitted.
Oh god yeah, that would’ve been the worst idea.
“So, um, what did you tell her?” Jeff asked hesitantly.
“That you took me out to dinner because you wanted to make me happy. And that I had a really good time,” Audrey summarised, not wanting to admit the full extent quite yet.
Jeff’s instant brilliant smile made her heart race a little, before he blushed. “Okay, that’s not so bad. What did she say in response?”
Audrey hesitated, not sure how much detail to go into. She definitely couldn’t say that Dana thought Jeff was in love with her…
“That I should be open to opportunities, that we should see where this goes,” Audrey eventually said.
Jeff bit his bottom lip, but nodded, looking deep in thought, which Audrey didn’t know whether it was a good thing or not.
“She makes a lot of sense,” Jeff said softly.
Audrey inhaled sharply. Just like that?
“What if something goes wrong between us?” she whispered.
“What if something goes right?” Jeff countered, stepping towards her.
Audrey didn’t dare move, Jeff getting closer and closer until he was standing right in front of her, barely a foot of space between them, his beautiful brown eyes dark and intense, making her head swim. So she shook her head, trying to clear out the haze.
“I can’t lose you. If something didn’t work out between us, I couldn’t bear to lose you, I don’t know what I’d do,” she said firmly.
Jeff licked his bottom lip nervously, his eyes going through various emotions.
“And if we didn’t let ourselves feel? We just carry on as we always have done, never knowing?” Jeff frowned.
Let ourselves feel. Was he admitting his feelings? Did he know hers already?
“I don’t know, Jeff. I just don’t know,” she mumbled.
Jeff reached out with both hands, cupping her elbows gently.
“I don’t think we can just go back,” Jeff admitted.
Well, shit.
“So where does that leave us?” Audrey asked softly.
“I don’t know! But I can’t stand the thought of you giving your heart away again to some guy who doesn’t appreciate it! Who doesn’t deserve it!” Jeff snapped, stepping away from her sharply.
Audrey’s jaw dropped slightly, her heart beating faster as a lump rose in her throat.
Jeff swallowed heavily, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you, I swear. But can’t you see that these other guys have only ever treated you like shit?”
Audrey’s lips pressed together in a tight line, trying to control her emotions, and she clenched her fists.
“I know that I haven’t exactly had a good track record, but you haven’t really had the best taste in dates either Jeff. All the exact same type of woman traipsing through your life and not a single one has stuck around,” Audrey said angrily.
“That’s because none of them ever measured up to you!” Jeff retorted.
His words hung in the air, Audrey inhaling sharply. Jeff groaned and closed his eyes, wishing he could take his last statement back, but knowing that he couldn’t. It was out there now, the real reasoning, but he was nervous to open his eyes and see Audrey’s reaction.
Would she be angry? Disgusted? Happy?
“Jeff, please look at me,” Audrey said softly.
“I don’t know if I can,” he said, choking out a laugh.
“Please?”
Jeff took a deep breath, before doing so, the pleading in her voice making him powerless. When he finally looked at her, he could barely read her face, the first time in a very long time.
“None of them measured up to me?” she said quietly.
It was the sheer volume of hope in her eyes that made Jeff brave enough to speak.
“You’ve been it for me for a long time, Aud,” he admitted.
There it was.
The noise that Audrey made was so full of both surprise and hurt that Jeff flinched. But she quickly reached out towards him, tugging him back towards her with her hands at his waist.
“I’m it? You…you really do love me?”
Jeff laughed a little wetly, full of emotion, but he nodded which only made Audrey’s heart clench. After all this time…
“I love you Audrey Marie James. I have done for a long time,” Jeff said simply.
“Oh Jeff. Jeff, I love you too,” Audrey whimpered, “so much,”
Jeff grinned, so hard that he made his cheeks hurt, before raising his hands to cup her face. He squished her cheeks into a fish pout like he always did, making her laugh and bat at his hands, breaking the tension.
“Fuck, I love you,” Jeff said happily, hands moving to rest on her shoulders.
“I love you too. Oh my god. I love you. I can’t believe I finally got to say it out loud,” Audrey giggled.
Jeff just laughed as well, giddiness overtaking him, not letting him think of anything but her.
“We’ve wasted so much time,” he huffed.
But Audrey just shook her head, her smile a little sad. “I was just so scared of not having you in my life that I didn’t dare risk you rejecting me,”
“There is no parallel universe in which I would reject you,” Jeff laughed.
“Nerd,” she said fondly, earning a brilliant smile, “I just…I wanted my own career too, y’know? And I didn’t know what would’ve happened if I just followed you for the rest of my life,”
Jeff swallowed heavily at her confession, but nodded.
“I don’t know what would’ve happened either. We’ll never know. But what I do know is that you’re a brilliant woman, who is crazy smart and wonderful and beautiful, and I’m so proud of everything you achieved. Like, you’re literally a civil engineer and an environmental scientist! That’s so cool! I’m just happy you could possibly want to be with boring old hockey-playing Jeff,”
“You’re not boring or old. And I fell in love with hockey-playing Jeff a long time ago, so I really don’t think I’m losing out here,” Audrey mused.
Jeff huffed a laugh, his heart racing a little more at her firm words, leaning his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “Well would you be this hockey player’s girlfriend?”
“Only if you’ll be this engineer-scientist’s boyfriend,” she countered.
Jeff grinned, dimples out in full force, making Audrey tilt her head back to laugh. This was real life. This was really happening. Holy shit.
But there was just one thing left…
“Hey, Jeff?” she said suddenly.
“Yeah?” he asked, one hand rising to cup her face.
It was when his thumb stroked over her cheekbone that she knew this was everything.
“Will you kiss me?”
Jeff looked a little astounded, jaw dropping a little, before that brilliant smile came back.
“Yeah, ‘f course,” he murmured.
Audrey inhaled sharply, before tilting her head up, leaning up towards him as Jeff leant down to her. Their lips touched softly, sweetly, both of them breaking off to laugh, both a little stunned, before Audrey pressed her lips to his again a little firmer. Jeff made a soft happy noise, kissing her back, his free hand sliding around her waist to bring their bodies together. She moaned in surprise at the feeling of his strong body against hers, but melted in his arms, lost in the motion of their kisses, completely consumed in a way she’d never been before.
Jeff broke away briefly with another soft moan, eyes searching her face a little desperately, before he kissed her again, clutching her a little tighter. And then he broke away for a final time, taking a step back with wild eyes, leaving her head spinning.
“I don’t want to get carried away,” Jeff panted, cheeks heating up in a blush.
Audrey bit her bottom lip but nodded, knowing her was right even if her racing heart didn’t want to admit it. “At least it was worth the wait?” she offered.
Jeff just groaned, making her laugh. Then her breath caught in her throat as Jeff adjusted his dick in his pants, alerting her to just how riled up he gotten. Oh fuck. Carried away indeed.
“You’re worth so much more to me than rushing into sex. I want to ease into things, y’know? I’ve waited this long for you to be mine, I can wait a little longer,” he said seriously.
“I love you too,” Audrey said happily.
Jeff just smiled that brilliant smile.
~
To: Dana
He loves me.
He loves me!
~
From: Dana
Holy fucking shit, about time.
Can I actually tell everyone now?
*
The next two weeks were the happiest that Audrey could remember. They had three days in a row together where Jeff wasn’t doing anything other than light training and rest, ahead of a 10 day roadtrip, and they made the most of it. Well, after another long talk about their emotions, because they could do that now, and fielding various calls from their many family members, they’d also spent a lot of time sweetly making out on the sofa whenever Audrey wasn’t working. Because hey, they could do that now too. To be honest, Audrey was a little addicted to the feeling of his lips on hers anyway – she fantasised about it for years on the occasional forbidden burst of weakness, but the reality of it blew away all fantasy.
Jeff was finally hers, and she couldn’t be happier.
The 10 days that Jeff was away on his sweeping road trip was harder this time though too. She didn’t expect it to be this hard, but she supposed that the emotions she’d locked away for so long were finally out and they were vulnerable in this newness. It did help with Jeff calling her every night though. She did tell him he didn’t have to, that she sure as hell didn’t expect it, but he just said that he’d always wanted to call her every night but he felt like he would be pushing boundaries. So how could she say no to that?
And it did make having him home finally a sweeter moment.
Tonight was the first home game since they got together officially, and Audrey was a little nervous. It was tradition for the players’ partners to wear a special customised jersey, and Jeff had presented her with one in the hopes that she would wear it to the game tonight. She had immediately agreed, of course, but it didn’t make this new step any less daunting. It was a big declaration, so public, but she did want people to know that Jeff was hers just as much as she was his.
It wouldn’t be so scary, right? She hadn’t missed a home game since he’d been in Buffalo, and she wasn’t about to start now.
So after kissing Jeff goodbye, leaving him with a sweet smile as he headed to the rink early to prepare for the game, Audrey got herself ready to enter the arena as Jeff Skinner’s girlfriend, a little more make-up and hair curled a little neater than usual, just like armour.
“Oh my God, Audrey!”
Audrey jumped at the sound of Tanya Staal’s shriek as she entered the family box, unable to stop the smile that spread across her lips. There had been a few occasions in Raleigh, when Audrey had visited while Eric was still playing there, that Audrey had met the former captain’s wife, and she had always been so sweet and welcoming. And although Tanya mostly stayed up in the family box with their kids, there had been a few team occasions since Eric was traded to Buffalo this season started that Audrey had attended as just Jeff’s friend (as that’s obviously all she had been until recently) where she’d been able to make friends with the older woman properly this time round.
Audrey always had the impression that Tanya thought she and Jeff were more than friends, but obviously now with the statement of the jersey, it was clear that the situation had changed.
“Is this true? Is this really happening?” Tanya asked hopefully.
Audrey blushed but nodded, earning a happy squeal.
“Yeah, Jeff told me he loved me two weeks ago and we’ve been dating ever since,” Audrey admitted.
“Holy shit, about time,” Tanya laughed.
It was all Audrey could do to nod, laughing a little wetly, still a bit overwhelmed.
“Okay, let me introduce you to the other player’s partners? It’s totally different than just being a friend,” Tanya offered.
Thank fuck for a friendly face. Audrey nodded in relief, letting Tanya guide her around the various women and children, the partners that she’d met previously thrilled with the news of the relationship status change (most of them saying finally or about time, which really made Audrey reconsider how obvious she’d been), and the rest of them just as welcoming. She’d done it. She was officially introduced, and she felt almost giddy with it.
The game itself was choppy, rough with hits and scrappy with goals, but the Sabres managed to pull out a win making all the people in the family box cheer. Tanya walked down by her side to wait for their men, linking their arms together like she knew just how much Audrey needed the support. As soon as Jeff saw her by Tanya’s side in their customised jerseys, his face got a really dumb lovestruck look, making Tanya laugh and nudge Audrey over to him.
“Hi, wow,” Jeff said happily.
“You like it?” she asked softly.
“You know I do,” Jeff murmured.
It was all Audrey could do to lean up on her tiptoes and kiss him, earning happy sighs and coos from the other women around them. She broke away with a laugh, moving so that they were just holding hands, but couldn’t stop looking at him despite how sappy she knew it was.
“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you,” she said softly.
“Couldn’t let you down, not when I knew you were watching as my girl,” Jeff grinned.
Audrey just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly. More players started walking out now (Jeff must’ve rushed out, bless him), including…Eric Staal.
Eric took one look at the way they were looking at each other and whooped.
“Holy shit, about time,” Eric grinned, unknowingly mimicking his wife.
“Nice to see you too, Staal,” Audrey said dryly, although she leaned up to kiss his cheek in greeting with a smile.
“Oh god yeah, you’ll know about their long suffering pining, won’t you Staalsy?” Jack laughed from behind Eric, joining their little group, Tanya already under Eric’s arm.
“So much pining, it was painful,” Eric said solemnly, although the laughter in his eyes mostly ruined the effect, “Audrey visited a few times down in Raleigh and she was at every game against the Leafs too, and Jeff’s smile was always at it’s brightest when she was there,”
“Gotta support my best friend,” she said simply, nudging Jeff with her arm.
Jeff nudged her back, but she didn’t miss the pleased smile on his lips.
“Oh come on, it was so much more than that! Jeff’s crush was so damn obvious, right from the very first time Audrey visited,” Eric mused, looking at Jack.
Audrey grinned. Was it now? Jeff just rolled his eyes, making her laugh.
“We literally only started dating two weeks ago,” Audrey pointed out.
“You’re shitting me, I thought you were joking Jeff,” Eric said, jaw dropping.
“I can actually confirm that. That day that Skinny came in to practice smiling like it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one really was the first full day,” Jack smirked.
Jeff blushed furiously, making Audrey laugh. Eric just shook his head, still shocked.
“All that time and you never did anything about your crush?” Eric asked, confused, “I thought you were just keeping things low-key,”
Hah, not quite.
“We tried telling him,” Jack sighed dramatically, although he was clearly loving this.
“Holy shit Skinny, took you long enough,” Eric snorted, Tanya just giggling.
“If we’re done gossiping like old grandmas?” Jeff asked dryly.
“Never,” Eric grinned.
Jack just looked delighted, and Jeff knew there was no way that the rest of the team wouldn’t hear about this.
“I’d say it was worth the wait,” Audrey said happily, squeezing his hand.
Jeff’s irritation immediately faded to a soft happiness, and Jack made a loud gagging noise at their heart-eyes.
“Okay, I’m out. Hurry up and shower, Skinny. We’ve got team drinks to get to,” Jack said firmly.
Jack sent Audrey a wink, letting her know how happy he really was for them, before leaving them.
“So does this mean I can tell Jordie? He’s going to be thrilled,” Eric grinned.
Jeff just groaned.
*
Dancin' in the kitchen, You singing my favourite songs, Swinging on the front porch, Just laughing at the dogs, Now you swear you love me more, When you're whispering goodnight, All those little moments are every reason why.
Jeff watched from the kitchen door as Audrey sang to herself, swaying slightly as she stirred whatever she was cooking in the pot on the stove. He didn’t think he could love her anymore than he already did, but seeing her like this in his kitchen, blonde hair loose and messy, wearing one of his t-shirts instead of one of her own, well…he was happy to prove himself wrong.
Then she spotted him out of the corner of her eye and shrieked, swirling around to face him with one hand clutching her heart.
“You almost scared me to death,” she gasped, pouting.
Jeff laughed, shrugging apologetically. “I couldn’t help myself. You looked so cute singing and dancing to your music,”
Audrey blushed a little, but shrugged too. “I’m obsessed with this Kane Brown song right now. Although if I’d known you were watching I probably wouldn’t have sung…”
“Aww no, don’t ever stop because of me,” Jeff mused, shaking his head, earning a smile from her, “maybe I can make it up to you?”
Audrey frowned in confusion, before Jeff moved his hand out from behind him, revealing the flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.
“You bought me flowers? How sweet!” she cooed, reaching out for the bouquet.
“Yeah? You like them?” Jeff asked hopefully.
She nodded, smiling widely as she inhaled deeply, making Jeff smile in turn. “I love them Jeff. And, um, no-one’s ever bought me flowers before,”
Jeff’s heart flickered with rage, at all those stupid guys she’d dated, who never deserved her, who never treated her like she deserved, before he forced himself to take a deep breath. No, past assholes weren’t worth thinking about any more. He was going to prove to her that he was worth it instead of them.
“Well I happen to love buying flowers, so be on the look out for more,”
“Jeff!” Audrey giggled, “You know I don’t want to buying me things, spoiling me,”
Because it was true. She didn’t want it or need it. And she never wanted him to think that it was expected.
“Oh they’re definitely not for you. They’re for me,” Jeff grinned, clearly lying.
Audrey rolled her eyes fondly, before smiling. “Oh, well, if they’re for you then that’s definitely acceptable,” she teased.
Jeff just laughed, moving to slide his arms around her waist, Audrey sliding her arms up around his neck, the flowers still in her hand.
“Will you dance with me?” Jeff asked softly.
“Right now?” Audrey laughed.
“Right now,” Jeff nodded, deadly serious.
Audrey laughed again but nodded, letting him sway her from side to side in a simple two-step shuffle, resting her forehead against his. It was little sweet moments like this, Jeff surprising her with his romantic notions, that made Audrey’s heart ache a little for all the potential missed moments over the years, but also made her heart sing that she got to experience them with him now.
Because this guy was everything to her, and even something as simple as him buying her flowers, or asking her to dance in the middle of the kitchen, made her realise just how lucky she was.
*
Mornings were quickly becoming Audrey’s favourite time of day. Whether it was waking up in her own bed or waking up in Jeff’s, seeing his face first thing as she woke up just made her day started so perfectly.
How could she not love feeling his arms wrapped around her? How his face was usually buried in her hair? How his leg slotted between hers?
She knew she loved that first sleepy smile, his wonderful dimples soft and gentle, always giving her butterflies without fail. She definitely loved the way his groggy voice murmured her name, how he pressed a closed-mouth kiss to her lips, never wanting to wait for that first simple pecked kiss before he brushed his teeth.
It was everything she could ever have asked for, everything she could never have dreamed of. With the highs came the lows, of course, and being in his arms those mornings was just as important. Like this morning, for instance.
“Last night was rough…” Jeff sighed, scrubbing at his tired eyes with the palms of his hands.
The game. The game was so stressful even just watching, so Audrey could only imagine how it would’ve felt being on the ice. Turnovers, stupid penalties, sloppy passes – it really just wasn’t their night. And when Jeff had finally walked out of the changing room ready to go home…well, it was all Audrey could do to go to bed in silence and let him curl into her side.
“…but waking up with you by my side makes me feel a million times better already,” he finished.
“You, Jeffrey Skinner, are a sap,” Audrey said fondly.
“Well you already knew that,” Jeff mused.
True, she did.
“Kiss me?” she prompted.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” Jeff said hesitantly.
“Don’t care,” Audrey shrugged, “you didn’t kiss me last night,”
Jeff’s face looked horrified, making Audrey burst out in laughter.
“Babe, I’m so sorry,” Jeff insisted, eyes wide and serious.
Babe. Huh. She could get used to that.
“Well luckily for you, you’ve got all day to make up for it,” Audrey teased.
Jeff’s eyes lit up at that, making her laugh again, before he rolled on top of her. He looked down at her fondly, face soft in the morning light, before he leaned down to kiss her slowly, softly, sweetly, over and over again. One of Audrey’s hands reached up to slide into his messy curls, the other clutching at his waist, Jeff just moving in to lie between her thighs, making Audrey’s body stir with excitement. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.
Eventually their kisses slowed down to a final few pecks, Jeff leaning back to look down at her properly.
“Have I told you that I love you?” he asked, resting his weight on his forearms as he hovered over her.
“Not today,” she grinned.
“Well let me rectify that,” Jeff grinned back.
Audrey shrieked as Jeff pressed a flurry of kisses to her face and neck, saying I love you between every few.
*
6 months later
Jeff’s hand was resting on Audrey’s thigh as they drove through the familiar streets of Markham, two weeks of vacation booked for her and invitations to come home from both their families guiding the way. To be honest, Audrey was pretty excited to experience their childhood homes with this new evolution of their relationship, to see things through a different perspective, and she knew that the childhood friends that were still around were excited to see them as them too.
It was a long time coming, after all.
“My mom is thrilled that I’m bringing you home as my boyfriend for the first time,” Audrey said softly, when they were about 5 minutes away from her family home.
“She’s known me for nearly three decades…” Jeff pointed out, trailing off in confusion.
“And she’s been cheerleading us for at least half of that,” Audrey admitted.
Jeff’s face froze briefly, before it shifted into fear.
“We’re about to be ambushed by your whole family, aren’t we?” he sighed.
“Definitely. Potentially all of yours as well, if I know my mom,” Audrey smirked.
And Audrey did know her mom – she knew in her gut that the moment Audrey told her that she would be bringing Jeff by as her boyfriend, that her mom rang Jeff’s mom to organise a joint group effort. There was no way that the women weren’t going to see them both at the same time, and there was no way their siblings wouldn’t be around to say I told you so. It would be ridiculous…but it was just who their families were.
Jeff just groaned, making Audrey giggle.
“There’s still time to turn the car around you know. Say we changed our minds, hide away in a cabin somewhere for a couple of weeks?” she offered.
No amount of stress was worth losing Jeff, not now she finally had him by her side.
But Jeff anxious face split into a smile. “As much as I would love to avoid the combination of our giant families…we can’t avoid them forever,” he mused, “and besides, you’re worth it,”
Audrey didn’t think she could love him any more than she already did, but there he goes, proving her wrong.
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heavyarethecrowns · 3 years
Text
Forget Wills and Kate - it's Harry who's found love - May 2007
Gazing into the flames of a campfire on the banks of Botswana's Okavango River, a scruffily dressed young man took a sip of his beer and let out a prolonged sigh.
Minutes later, he was pouring his heart out to the three strangers sitting beside him.
"Apparently, he had fallen in love with some girl in Cape Town who was the daughter of a rich businessman in Zimbabwe.
"He seemed really serious about her, saying he couldn't understand how he had fallen head-over-heels only four days after meeting her," one of those fellow travellers later recalled.
The love-sick youth was, of course, Prince Harry, then on holiday in Africa during his gap year. And the girl who made such an impact was Chelsy Davy.
Three years on, almost to the day, Harry is preparing to wave goodbye to his girlfriend and march off to war.
Much has happened to the young prince in the intervening period: officer training at Sandhurst; periodic brawls with the paparazzi; and his father's marriage to the woman Harry once blamed for causing his late mother so much anguish.
But, to the surprise of many observers, one of the few constants in Harry's life has turned out to be the coltish, snub-nosed girl he met in Cape Town.
Indeed, some of his friends believe that an engagement is almost certainly on the cards, though probably not for a few years yet.
Of course, feelings can change. A tour of duty in Iraq, fighting for his country, may accelerate the progression from pampered prince to more mature man of the world: he may want to close the book on his youth, open a new chapter, find a different kind of soulmate.
But maybe not. Even 12 months ago, few could have predicted that Harry's long- distance relationship with the coquettish daughter of a Zimbabwean wheeler-dealer and former Coca-Cola model would outlast William's romance with the eminently proper Kate Middleton.
The truth of the matter, however, is that Harry has always seen himself and Chelsy as better suited and more capable of going the distance.
"And now," said a well-placed source this week, "he's been proved right."
The 22-year- old prince has become increasingly irritated by what he saw as the "hype" surrounding William and Kate's relationship.
A friend of Harry's says: "Harry doesn't want to be subjected to the level of interest people have been taking in William and Kate.
"It's his idea of hell. But he also feels very frustrated at the way people are so dismissive of him and Chelsy.
"They are always portrayed as a pair of poor little rich kids who will burn themselves out sooner rather than later.
"In Harry's mind, there is nothing ridiculous whatsoever in the idea that one day, in the not-too-distant future, Princess Chelsy could be standing on the balcony at Buckingham Palace - even though she would probably be hiding a cigarette and a bottle of Malibu behind her back."
Despite the stream of paparazzi photographs that reveal a fondness for partying and a distinctly beach-chick style, the 21-year-old Zimbabwean has been an "A" student at school and university.
Harry would not want to change anything about her.
While others - including his own father, according to Harry - find themselves transfixed by Chelsy's more obvious charms - the prince has always believed that his girlfriend has some sterling qualities that Kate probably lacked.
"Harry has always been quietly very proud of the fact that Chelsy - or Chedda, as he affectionately calls her - loves him for who he is.
"In fact, she sees the fact that he's royal as more of a hindrance than a help," says a confidante.
"As the hugely popular daughter of a multi-millionaire businessman with homes in at least three different countries, she doesn't really need to take advantage of Harry's birthright."
One source close to the prince suggests that he actually sided with members of William's circle who felt that Kate Middleton had started to take advantage of the relationship.
"Harry had sympathy with those of William's friends who felt Kate had begun to rather enjoy her fame by association a little too much - unlike his own girlfriend, who he thinks is a 'real class act'," the source explains.
'When she first met William, Kate had few friends of her own - but over the years, she carefully assimilated herself into his circle.
"There was a feeling among some of William's friends that Kate had become a little too self-aware - she even had the cheek to bag herself a cut-price Audi, thanks to her royal links - while publicly insisting that she wanted to be treated as an ordinary girl."
Although Chelsy and Kate were photographed together on several occasions, most notably at the Beaufort Polo Club last summer, Harry's girlfriend apparently didn't particularly take to Kate.
"It wasn't that she disliked her - it's just that they had nothing in common. One only has to look at them to see it," says the source.
"Chelsy is a lot sweeter than she looks, but she is still a very outgoing girl who likes a beer and a fag.
Thanks to her rather indulged upbringing, she is incredibly sociable and self-confident - qualities that don't come naturally to Kate."
Others more sympathetic to Miss Middleton's cause, suggest the reality is that Chelsy has been just as keen to turn a royal relationship to her advantage.
She may protest about the attention, but she has not raised objections about her new status as international cover girl.
Last year, the society magazine, Tatler, even bracketed her with the Duchess of Cornwall as one of the most powerful blondes in Britain.
Her brother Shaun, meanwhile, has taken to styling himself as one of Harry's official bodyguards, and has been known to chase after photographers when they try to take the prince's picture.
Yet, in Harry's besotted eyes, Chelsy and her family can do no wrong.
Courtiers who have expressed concern about the Davys' controversial business links to Zimbabwean despot Robert Mugabe, have been told that she is a "non-negotiable" part of his life.
And he is undoubtedly entranced by the relative normality of his girlfriend's close-knit family.
Which is perhaps hardly surprising. By the age of 13, Harry had weathered not only his parents' separation but had also been forced to cope with the tragic - and endlessly raked-over -death of his mother.
Since then, his upbringing has been marked by a lack of parental discipline, thanks to his loving but laissez-faire father.
Even those with reservations about Chelsy concede that she has had a positive effect on the headstrong, devil-may-care young prince.
"It's far from a coincidence that when Harry does slip up - the times when he falls out of nightclubs drunk and brawls with photographers in the streets - Chelsy isn't around," says one who knows them both well.
"Believe it or not, he has matured in recent years - in large part thanks to Chelsy, whom he is incredibly protective of - and really does try to keep his head down.
"They are so besotted with each other - like a couple of lovebirds, really - that when they are together, nothing else really matters.
"Their body language is so different from that of Kate and William, who always used to look more like brother and sister.
"The trouble is that when Chelsy isn't around, Harry is easily led astray."
On their recent jaunt to the Caribbean, the couple barely left their luxury condo in the exclusive Glitter Bay resort in Barbados, preferring to lie, holding hands, by the pool.
And at last Friday's raucous Blues and Royals party to celebrate Harry's deployment to Iraq, it was William who stayed out clubbing until 4am with a bevy of beautiful girls.
Harry and Chelsy quietly sipped cocktails in a private booth before slipping off discreetly at 1am.
Lately, friends have noticed that the relationship seems to be deepening - although that is not to say there haven't been some pretty intense spats.
Unlike William, who was accused of leaving Kate to flounder under the weight of expectation while he forged on with his own life, Harry has been actively encouraging Chelsy to make solid plans for their future.
Bristol University has flatly denied rumours she plans to do a postgraduate degree there in the autumn, but friends say she is definitely planning to spend more time in England, where she has many friends from her days as a boarder at Stowe, a co-educational public school in Buckinghamshire.
She has even cancelled her plans to return to Africa over the summer and will instead wait for Harry to return from Iraq on leave.
"Chelsy hates the weather here, but is desperate to be nearer to her darling Haz. She is willing to make sacrifices if it takes their relationship a step forward," says a friend.
And Harry has already asked Chelsy to attend the memorial concert in July that he and William are organising to mark the tenth anniversary of their mother's death, though they are still discussing whether she should attend the formal church service later that month.
A Clarence House source says: "The problem is that every senior member of the Royal Family will be there, and Harry knows that taking her is tantamount to making a public statement on the future of their relationship.
"He doesn't think that it's fair on her to open the floodgates just yet."
In the immediate future, he knows that he needs to concentrate on leading his men in Iraq.
The highly charged public debate over his deployment to the Gulf has radically increased the pressure on him to make a success of his career - and he wants to show that the Army's confidence in him has not been misplaced.
"After what happened to my mother, I'm not afraid to die - but I am frightened for those around me," he recently confided to one close friend.
Although he did once petulantly threaten to quit if he were not sent to Iraq with his troops, his attitude has changed in the last few months.
"He knows that the situation is bigger than him now, and he'll take whatever he is told to do on the chin," says a royal aide.
Indeed, those who know him well say he is haunted by the fear that one of his men could be captured or even killed because of him.
"That's something he just couldn't bear, and he knows he would be held to account for the rest of his life.
"The men in his troop have tried to reassure him - joking that they will all wear ginger wigs to confuse the enemy, which is typical of Army gallows humour - but he is wracked with guilt," says another friend.
Iraq, however, is also Harry's big opportunity to strike out from under his elder brother's shadow.
For the first time in his life, the spare to William's heir will be taking centre stage.
"Harry loves his brother very much, but he is acutely aware of the way in which he is overshadowed by William.
"He is determined to go to war and make his family proud," says a friend.
But unlike William, he will have a long-term sweetheart to sweep into his arms when he returns.
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112aang · 3 years
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Kataang Week 2021: Day 4- Bending
Hello, my lovelies, and welcome to day 4 of Kataang Week. Today’s prompt is Bending, and I actually decided to take it a different direction than most probably would. 
Words: 1,816
You can find my ff.net page here, where the entirety of my Kataang Week submissions will be, as well as my other stories.
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Before getting married, Aang and Katara had talked endlessly about having children. Being the last airbender, he knew well the duty he had to his lost nation and to the world.
The world leaders had been pressuring him since he turned 16, the marrying age. By the age of 13, Aang knew that he wanted to marry Katara, and therefore would have children with her. During world leader meetings, the topic of rebuilding the Air Nation was often a popular one, and each leader felt it necessary to hold the duty over Aang’s head like a dark cloud.
At one particular meeting, after the airbender’s 16th birthday, Chief Arnook of the Northern Water Tribe had suggested the use of surrogates for the Avatar. He argued that with the use of multiple women, many of which being nonbenders, there would be a better chance of producing an airbending child.
Upon hearing this, Aang had jumped from his seat with anger and shot down the Chief’s proposal. His usual passive attitude had vanished, and he had to be held back by Zuko. After conveying his message, the Avatar angrily stormed out of the meeting room, using his airbending to slam the door shut behind him.
Aang hadn’t told Katara much about what the world leaders said, aside from the main points. At this point, they were only still just dating, and the airbender hadn’t planned on proposing yet. Plus, he knew that in the Water Tribes, having children out of wedlock would be begging for banishment. Katara wouldn’t have been able to visit her home, and her grandmother would never get to meet her great grandchild. This was not an option, and Aang knew it.
Over the years following the meeting, the topic had come up occasionally at the round table, but was never discussed at length.
After Aang and Katara’s wedding, however, the world leaders cautiously approached the subject of rebuilding the Air Nation to both benders.
***
“Aang, Katara,” Earth King Kuei said. “Now that you have been wed, when can we expect offspring? The balance of the world depends on the restoration of the Air Nation.”
The newlywed couple looked at one another before Katara spoke.
“King Kuei, with all due respect, it really is none of your business when Aang and I have children. That goes for the rest of you as well.”
She looked around the table at the other world leaders, “we know what is expected of him, being the last airbender, but we will not have children just for the sake of rebuilding an entire nation.”
Zuko’s eyes met hers and he nodded in agreement, as did her father and King Kuei.
Chief Arnook was the only member at the table who hadn’t spoken a word, and Aang looked to him.
“Chief Arnook,” he said. “Anything you would like to say?”
The Water Tribe man glanced between the couple with an unreadable look on his face and sighed loudly.
“My proposal stands. As a married couple, you may share in having children together. But for the sake of the world, I suggest multiple surrogates to ensure the repopulation of the Air Nation.”
Katara was fuming, steam practically shooting from her ears, and Aang was no different. Before his wife could speak, he stood abruptly and pulled her to the exit.
Before leaving the meeting room, the airbender turned to the round table and gave them a look full of anguish and resentment. Katara pulled open the door and they stormed out of the room.
***
Nearly a year had passed since the meeting, and Aang and Katara had just welcomed their first-born son into the world. The waterbender had given birth at the Southern Air Temple, where they had been living, and Aang couldn’t keep a smile off of his face.
The baby’s skin was a shade darker than his father’s, but not quite as pigmented as Katara’s. His hair was a dark brown, almost black, and he had grey eyes- just like Aang.
The couple smiled at the newborn, then each other.
“He’s beautiful, Katara.”
She smiled as tears slowly fell from her eyes, before tilting her head and kissing her husband softly.
“What should we name him?”
Aang thought for a moment, before coming up with the perfect name. His best and oldest friend had passed away just a year and a half prior to his son’s birth; the name was perfect.
“How about Bumi?”
Katara pondered this name for only a second, before casting her gaze upon the child in her arms. She smiled and kissed his forehead gently, before rubbing his cheek with her thumb.
“That’s a perfect name.”
The new parents shared a gentle kiss, hopeful that maybe, the world leaders would finally get off their backs.
***
After Bumi’s 5th birthday, he had shown no signs of bending abilities, which the world leaders had taken note of. They had called a meeting with Aang and Katara to discuss the future of the Air Nation once again, to which the couple reluctantly attended.
“Avatar Aang,” King Kuei said. “Has your son displayed any signs of bending abilities since his most recent birthday?”
Katara looked at her husband, worry sketched on her face. Aang caught her eyes and smiled sadly, the same nervousness on his own face.
“No, King Kuei. He has not.”
The airbender watched as the Earth King and the other members whispered among themselves. His chest felt tight, and his stomach was turning in 100 different directions. From beside him, Katara placed her hand on his thigh reassuringly, and he started to calm down.
Chief Arnook was the next to speak, making both parents’ blood begin to boil.
“We have given you a chance to do this your way, but it seems as though it hasn’t worked in your favor.” He sighed, “we have decided that unless you wish to use surrogates, you and Master Katara must conceive another child within the next year; preferably an airbending child.”
The couple gave each other a knowing look before Katara placed a shaky hand on her lower abdomen. Zuko noticed this from his place across the table and raised his eyebrows.
“Aang, Katara,” he said, incredulously. “Is there something you two would like to share?”
The airbender smiled delicately and placed a hand over his wife’s on his leg.
“Actually,” he turned his head to face Katara. “We do; Katara is pregnant.”
The world leaders surrounding the round table perked up at the sound of this and clapped, bringing a slight blush to the couples’ cheeks.
***
Over the years, Bumi had become saddened at the fact that he was unable to bend an element. Being the first-born son of the Avatar and a world-renowned healer and master waterbender, he felt as though he was a disgrace to his parents.
One evening, at their home on Air Temple Island, Bumi was near the water’s edge with his little sister, Kya. She had just discovered her ability to waterbend, and he was as proud as he could be of her. He would often take her down to the water when their parents were busy and watch her play with her element. Their Uncle Sokka had carved a boomerang just for him, and he would throw it around for Kya to watch.
As the two siblings sat in the sand, the youngest was moving her hand in circles, creating a small whirlpool in the water. Bumi watched with slight jealousy and wondered if his parents thought he was a disgrace- a burden on their shoulders.
Aang and Katara hadn’t spoken to Bumi about bending in months, and he had begun to worry that they were ashamed of him. As the son of the Avatar, he should have been able to bend something. But alas, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t.
Bumi pulled his knees to his chest and sighed. Him and Kya had been on the beach for an hour or so and the sun was beginning to set. He stood from the ground slowly and walked over to his sister, placing a hand on her shoulder softly.
Before he could speak, to tell her to follow him inside, he felt a large hand on his own shoulder. Bumi turned his head to see his father smiling down at him.
“Kya, honey,” his father said. “Why don’t you head inside? Your mother is almost finished with dinner.”
His daughter smiled and nodded, before running up the path towards their home. Bumi started to turn in the same direction that his sister had gone, but Aang stopped him.
“Bumi, can we talk?”
The boy nodded and Aang led him closer to the water. He turned so that he was face to face with his son and smiled.
“Is there something wrong, dad?”
Bumi looked confused, as his father hadn’t had a small chat with him in a while. Aang would try to do things with his son as often as he could, but lately he had been pulled away for meetings more than he would have liked.
He smiled down at his son before crouching down to his level.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. We haven’t talked in a while, just you and me.”
Bumi was almost 12 and was quite smart for his young age. He took after Aang with his honesty, and didn’t hide anything from his parents.
The boy looked into his father’s eyes woefully and sighed.
“Actually, dad,” he began, turning his face away. “I was wondering… Do you think I will ever be able to bend?”
Aang tilted his head slightly at his son’s question, “I’m not entirely sure, Bumi. Why do you ask?”
“I hear you and mom talking sometimes. I know that the other leaders are upset that I can’t bend and… I don’t want to let you down.”
His eyes gathered with tears and Aang wiped them away, placing both hands on his son’s shoulders.
His father looked him in the eyes and said firmly, “Bumi, it doesn’t matter whether you can bend all four elements or none at all. Your mother and I love you with everything that we are, and we wouldn’t change anything about you.”
“I am so proud of everything you have accomplished so far, and it has all been without bending. You are perfect just the way you are.
Bumi’s eyes met his father’s and they smiled at each other.
“Thanks, dad.”
Aang pulled his son into a hug and held him tightly, “I love you, son. Don’t ever think that you aren’t good enough, and never let anyone tell you that you aren’t, either.”
Bumi smiled into his father’s neck and cried, thankful that his family loved him, despite not being able to bend an element.
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Next up is Hurt/Comfort.
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ssfghfrrggf · 3 years
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Day 1
I finally got around to writing about my first day of survival and rescue training from a month ago. I know some of y'all were intrested in reading it! So here's day one:
Preface
Being a firefighter isn’t a task to be tackled by the faint of heart, the training alone will test your character and strength and your heart. Training is where all the people crazy enough to pursue their dream of spending their life running into burning buildings and dancing with death for the sake of saving others discover whether they are actually crazy enough to do it. And you do have to be crazy to do it.
Firefighter survival and rescue training is to teach you how to survive when survival isn’t looking like an option and it’s to teach you how to save your buddy too, it also just so happens to push you to your limits and then push you further, to test your will and dedication. It not only teaches you how to survive, but whether you can actually survive the job you so desperately want to do. Day one is all about you and your survival. Day two is about learning to save your friend, your brother or sister, your fellow firefighter.
This is my account of Day 1
The Importance of a Mayday
The class starts at 8:00 AM. I live a half an hour away from where the first part of the day is going to take place. I get up at 5:30, which in my humble opinion is way too early for any living thing to be awake. I stay in bed for a good 20 minutes before I finally crawl out of my cozy warm bed and get dressed in my cloth that I have specially laid out for the day: my fire department t-shirt, my black cargo pants, and my fire department issued beanie. Then I make my way down stairs. Despite the butterflies in my stomach I eat a big breakfast and go off to load my 40 pound bag of firefighter gear in the car. That all takes me a good half an hour. I shouldn’t leave the house until at least 7:00. I end up leaving at 6:45. I am almost an hour early to class. An hour I spend with sweaty palms and nervous jitters. I’ve been amped up all week worrying about this class and dwelling in the existential fear that I won’t physically be able to survive this weekend. (it’s a back to back class. 8 hours on saturday and 8 hours on sunday (sunday ends up being closer to 10 hours))
In the classroom we are taught a lot of things. Mostly all the ways in which things can go horribly wrong for us, and all the ways we can die. We watch videos, some of which rattle me to my core, and I wonder if I'm the only one who’s shook as I look around the silent room of firefighters from all different departments in the state. I think that maybe I am. Most of them have seen a thing or two, and been on their fair share of calls. Even my buddy Adam has seen his first structure fire and he's younger than me. I am the newest person in the room, hell I'm not even allowed out on calls yet. In a lot of ways I'm right where I should be, in other ways I feel wildly out of place.
We're told about the old days of old mustache endowed men running into fires and eating smoke (literally, most trucks back in the day only carried one or two air packs, and if you took one you were a pussy). In the old days wearing an air pack and calling a mayday were held on the same level of "you wimp!" Right along with therapy. How the times have changed. Now if you go in air pack free, Osha will have you, your captain, and probably your chief too (just for good measure)’s asses. And if you get cancer the department won't do jack because "sorry buddy, you should've had an air tank" (every truck now has more than enough tanks to go around). Therapy has also become encouraged (you'll still occasionally get the big ol' old timer with a big white mustache who will tell you to suck it up), now we know bottling up feelings can be just as deadly as a flashover. And finally the importance of calling a mayday. It used to be shameful to have your ass dragged out by your buddies, but now it's encouraged. If you're in trouble you had damn well better call that mayday. We're told to practice calling one every morning in front of the mirror, because if you can't piece together what you need to say while you're standing safe at home there's no way in hell you're gonna be able to do it when you're fearing for your life.
Mayday's aren't pretty and neat like they are on tv, and they're certainly not that calm or audible. We listened to a few videos of maydays, and half the time you can't hear half of what's being said, hell you're lucky if you make out one of the three maydays (you always say it three times, then call your name, last known location, what kind of trouble your in, and what your air's at. That's the ideal mayday anyway). There's even a story of a firefighter that called a mayday and the only reason they knew about it was because a civilian heard it on their scanner and called 911 wondering if it was something to be concerned about. We were also told once you call your mayday keep trying to get out but keep reporting your location so RIT can find you. Calling a mayday can save your ass. You might get made fun of for it, but that’s a whole hell of a lot better than dying. The only place egos get you is dead. So when in doubt, call the mayday and if you get yourself out of trouble you can always radio in and cancel it. You’re buddies would rather haul your ass out of a fire than have to burry you.
There's so much more we went over in that class and so many important things, but if I try to go into all of it, it will take hours (3 or 4 is about how long we were in that classroom). So I'm going to get onto the better stuff.
Morning Line Up
I hook a ride to the outdoor training ground with my buddy Adam. We get McDonald's on the way there as our lunch (it’s about 11:30 maybe 12:00). I know I should hydrate before we start off the day of hard work ahead of us, but there are no bathrooms at the training ground and I really don't want to have to go pop a squat behind a bush and try to do it in bunker gear. I drink a little water, finish up lunch in Adam's car with him and then we get geared up and head toward the group of firefighters beginning to gather around the big red training building. The building is really a little breath taking. It's constructed of red shipping containers and about three stories tall. It looks a little like a fort (sadly none of us will end up going into it. Our work is all done outside.) 
It takes some time for everyone to finally get gathered around the instructors, but we finally do and then we're split into two lines and told to stand there. Then a big tall guy, we'll call him Hodge, steps in between the two lines and begins to walk the length of them. I feel a speech coming, and I'm right, and it's glorious. He walks up and down our lines, his breath freezing in the morning air and catching the sun light, and joining with the breath of everyone else there. It's really a beautiful awe inspiring sight. One i won't forget. For  the life of me I can't remember what all was said, but it was awe inspiring  and if I hadn't been surrounded by close to 30 other firefighters i probably would've cried. What i can remember is he told us today- the whole weekend really- would kick our asses (it did) and that we're really just a big group of crazy people with a purpose. He told us that it's okay to be scared, any normal person would be especially when it comes to diving head first out a second story window onto a ladder or lowering yourself out a second story with nothing but a rope, your own two hands and a halligan. He said it was okay to be scared, but what matters is what you do in the face of that fear. That's what sets us apart. That's what defines us. He also told us the day would test us and push us to our limits, but "can't" isn't something that should ever be said. He told us what can't means. Can't means you don't make it home. Can't means maybe someone else doesn't make it home. Can't means he doesn't get to see his kids again. Can't gets people killed. Can't is not an option. And i would later discover deep down, can't is something i just don't have in me.
You Want Me to be The Group Leader?
After the lineup and the speeches are over, each line is split into 3 groups and we are all given air tanks to wear for the day (you don't know back pain until you wear one of those things for close to 5 hours while being on your feet). Then we each line forms a circle over in the grass, we're taught how to go low profile in our tanks. The gist of it it is: you loosen your straps, and slide the tank over so it's between your side and your arm so you can fit through tight spaces. It's pretty simple. Then we are told to split off into the groups we were assigned and one of the instructors b-lines for me, points to me and says "you're the group leader". I am shook to say the least, and the least qualified person in the group to be the leader, but no one says anything. I get everyone's names (and can't remember them now), but i can remember distinguishing features for all of them. There's the guy who likes Jack from station 19, the german guy, another girl, and the super quiet guy in the black turnout gear who frankly i kept forgetting existed and looked like a middle schooler (what a great group leader i am). 
Our first drill is diving through a hole a wall and then climbing and hanging out a window cill. I have no problem getting through the hole, i have some problems getting turned around in the tight space and i have a lot more problems getting up to the window cill because i am very short. I use the halligan as a step stool and manage it. Everyone else in the group goes after me. If you ever want to be amazed just watch firefighters do this drill. There are still some guys that i still don't know how they fit through that hole in the wall or back out the window. But as i like to say, you'd really be amazed what firefighters can fit into. After everyone in the group goes, i go again. It's smoother this time, and I know how to properly use the halligan as a step stool. Everyone else goes again, and then we go to the next station: following hoselines. 
It's really pretty cut and dry. You keep both hands on the line at all times, if you're in a mayday situation you make sure the people outside know what color line you're on so they can find you easier. If you come across couplings on the hose, the easiest way to figure out if your heading outside is to recite a helpful little phrase (one that i love) "smooth bump bump to the pump". One coupling has a smooth part then a bump, the second coupling only has a bump. If the order that go is smooth, bump, bump, then you know you're heading to the pump which is outside. They teach us how to figure that out by just feeling aka we're blind folded for the drill. Also I'm slowly discovering that my job as group leader is moot. The group doesn't need much direction. Not that I'm really qualified to give it anyway.
The next skill on our little skill itinerary is learning how to untangle yourself when you can't see anything. When we do this skill the group splits into two sections to save time. Me and two other firefighters (the german and the guy who looks like jack from station 19) go to one instructor, the rest of the group goes to the other. I go first. How the drill goes is you crawl along blind folded and then the instructor will use two ropes attached to side of the shipping container building to get you nice and tangled up. Your job is to not panic and get yourself free from the rope. I, by some miracle, manage to do it pretty well both times. Then the German goes, and i gotta say it's more stressful to watch than it is to actually do it. You can see exactly what needs to be done, but the person doing it can't, and you're not allowed to help. The german frees himself pretty easily and then leaves to go stand with his buddies who are all cheering on the last member in that section of the group who appears to be struggling a great deal. I stay and wait while the who looks like Jack goes through the drill. He has a hard time of it. At one point he has the rope wrapped three times around his air tank. I stay right where I am waiting for him until he's done. I feel an obligation to stay, i'm the group leader, and I'm not gonna leave him alone. He eventually frees himself and we all regroup. Then it's time for the ladder and rope stuff.
Head First Out the Window
It's a scary concept, and a scary practice, all done to prepare you for some future scary situation. They want us to dive head first out a window, hook your arm on one rung, grab two rungs below that with your other hand and then use gravity to twist around so you're upright, all while a good 20 feet in the air. If you do it wrong you could dislocate your shoulder, break your arm, fall off the ladder or do all three. They have you hooked up to a safety harness just in case, but it's still scary standing in that second story window and staring down at all the people below you and then diving out the window. It goes against human nature. You are not supposed to dive out of anything 20 feet in the air and you're not supposed to go head first down ladders and yet- that's exactly what we're supposed to do… TWICE
I have butterflies in my stomach waiting to go up to dive out the window. My buddy Adam is a head of me in line and he seems to just be absolutely PUMPED. I watch him go through the window and he doesn't hesitate, he just dives down the window and flips around like he's done it a million times. I'll discover Adam is Just Like That. Before long it's my turn. I'm standing next to the window getting hooked up to the safety harness and I'm looking down at everyone and I'm beginning to question my life choices. I've done some crazy things in my life, but this is by far the craziest (it will shortly be one upped). I don't just go straight out the window, I take my sweet time and i go slow. But I do it and… it's actually a blast! I don't just want to go one more time, I wanna do it for the rest of the day! The second time waiting in line to do it again me and Adam are vibrating a chattering wildly because it was fucking awesome! Adam goes, I go again, this time with a little more speed. But my end result isn't as pretty. I end up with one foot on the ladder and the other off. When i get on the ground I am informed by an instructor that they thought I was gonna fall. 
Just Tip Out the Window
If I thought diving head first out the window was the craziest thing I'd do that day, I was really very wrong. That prize goes to me lowering myself out the window with just my own two hands, a rope, a halligan, some physics, probably a little bit of luck, and a whole ton of guts. How it works is: you sit on the window cill like you're sitting on a horse, one end of your rope is attached to a halligan that is anchored into place in the corner of the window, you drop the long part of your rope out the window behind you, then you hold the two sides of the rope together in front of you kind of like a belt (this process is way easier to show than explain using just words on a page). It's kind of like you're making a horseshoe around yourself. Then you lean forward and tip out the window, kind of like how you'd dismount a horse. If done properly you should be facing the sky and have your back to the ground. Then to lower yourself you just loosen your grip on the rope a little and to stop you tighten your grip. The friction is what stops you from falling full speed and hitting the ground. I know all that babble doesn't sound simple, but it really is very simple and straightforward. And you're attached to a safety harness just in case something goes wrong, which should be comforting but really isn't.
You discover something about yourself when you're sitting 20 feet in the air getting ready to entrust yourself to mere physics  (and a safety harness that somehow doesn't even register as existing). I'm sitting there thinking about how absolutely right good ol' Hodge was right about having to be crazy to do this. And as I sit on that window ready to tip out in all ways except for mentally, I'm wondering if maybe I am not as crazy as i thought i was and if i'm actually crazy enough to cut it. I've never been a fan of heights, so looking down at the ground and all the other firefighters looking up at me is absolutely terrifying. And there is a moment where I seriously consider saying nevermind and getting off the window cill and walking back down safely. This skill isn't even required to pass the class. But as I sit on that window cill i discover a very important part of myself, i discovered my point of no return, which was probably all the way back on the first step leading to the window. Once I start I can't stop. I wanted to climb off that window cill and run back down to safety, but I was incapable of doing so. I had come this far, so I was going all the way. I had started so I wasn't going to stop. Once I start something that I am truly passionate about or want really badly to succeed at,  I can't stop until I've seen it through all the way, and I think that is going to carry me through the rest of my career. My inability to back down. There’s no can’t.
I gripped my rope tight and tipped over out the window. I lowered myself down and the whole thing probably only took 10 or 15 seconds. As soon as my feet hit the ground I wanted to go again, sadly we were only allowed to do it once. Adam however managed to worm his way through the line a second time. Lucky sneaky bastard.
I still want to lower myself out more windows and whenever anyone does it on tv i get jealous.
Closing Speeches
No one's allowed to leave the training grounds until everything was cleaned up and put away. Once clean up is done the instructors all gathered us into a big group and we get some nice closing speeches from the different instructors about how we did a great job. Surprisingly enough the only thing Hodge says is a curt "good job", i guess he used up all his speech giving for the day that morning. Once all the instructors are done talking to us, Hodge stands up and very loudly says, for all to hear, "Like they say at the end of classes in the academy. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here so get the hell of the property." And with that we are released.
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bills-pokedex · 4 years
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{Hey there! It’s Pride Month, so in honor of this (and the fact that the mun has come to a fantastic revelation about themselves not too long ago), a new resource for our resources tag, our semi-new tag for background info about the blog. That is to say, have some storage system admin pride headcanons ... and a little side note about the mun for all four of you wondering: 
Bill Pronouns: he/him Orientation: Panromantic asexual
Side notes: Bill has always had a strange relationship with gender. Some tabloids will tell you it’s because he was basically raised by kimono girls; others will tell you it’s because he’s combined himself so many times with pokémon he’s lost all sense of identity. If you asked Bill himself, though, he’d tell you he’d always had a strong sense of his identity, and that identity is “gender is a human concept of a particularly alien nature, so therefore, it deeply confuses and intrigues me, but only really on a scientific rather than personal level.” To that end, he’s actually agender but refers to himself with/responds to gendered pronouns for the sake of convenience.
Lanette/LH Pronouns: she/her Orientation: Bisexual (but leans more towards men than anything else)
Side notes: Up until a few years ago, Lanette assumed she was straight because, well, that’s what you do when you grow up trying to fit certain roles. It wasn’t really until adulthood and hearing the other admins discuss their experiences that Lanette began to explore her own. She’s still rather new at this and still very uncertain about what she prefers, but she's slowly realizing it’s perfectly possible (and acceptable!) to lean towards people of her opposite gender but also, now and then, find other genders attractive.
Brigette Pronouns: she/her Orientation: Aromantic asexual
Side notes: Unlike her sister or her sister’s partner, Brigette has never needed to give any thought whatsoever to her identity. That is to say, she’s cisgendered female, she would like no part of any of these romantic/sexual shenanigans, and that’s about all she’s got to say on the matter. (She’s always been open about the aroace part, but for some reason, it never really became public until a few years ago. More than a few people were disappointed.)
Celio Pronouns: he/him, they/them Orientation: MLM
Side notes: Everyone knew Celio was gay from the moment he introduced himself to the group and immediately broke down into a mess a second later because Bill walked in. What a lot of people don’t know is that Celio’s relationship to gender is almost as loose as Bill’s is. Celio is pretty much in the closet about a lot of things, not because he’s afraid of what the admins or the rest of the world would say (he feels comfortable sharing that he’s gay, for example, and the admins reciprocate by gently trying to encourage him to find people who are more put-together than his long-lasting extremely unrequited crush) but more because One Island is an extremely traditional place.
Bebe Pronouns: she/her Orientation: WLW
Side notes: At the risk of making light of this post, Bebe’s lesbian adventures are practically legendary among the admins and the Sinnoh media, largely in part because of her not-so-secret fling with champion Cynthia once upon a time. (Bebe is to this day the only one in the admin circle who’s ever landed a champion, and frankly, some of the other admins are jealous.) She is currently dating Hayley in what some admins say is a very sweet and pure relationship ... so naturally some of the other admins are jealous.
Amanita Pronouns: she/her Orientation: ????
Side notes: Amanita is 12 and what is this. On a serious note, as of this writing/in the blog’s timeline, Amanita is still only about fourteen. On top of that, she’s been so busy being the admin of Unova and a general child genius that she hasn’t really had time to puzzle over her identity yet. The admins, who are in a sense surrogate parents for her, are actually trying their hardest to teach her the basics when she asks (in as respectful a way Fennel would allow), but they know it’s really more or less up to Amanita to figure out for herself what she is. She’s certain she’s cisgendered, but that’s about it so far.
Cassius Pronouns: he/him, they/them Orientation: Pansexual, polyamorous
Side notes: Cassius is probably the admin who’s the most open about their identities. Genderfluid (albeit one who leans more towards male than anything else—a demiguy, in a sense), pansexual, and very much polyamorous. Cassius just never really thought he had any reason to hide. He’s not, after all, someone who makes it a habit of changing who he is to fit in, and if anyone gossips about what he and his assistants (who, incidentally, are also his lovers) are up to in that cottage in Camphrier, they can suck it for all he really cares. But if you really must know, he and his partners are in an adorable domestic situation. They make each other coffee and crepes every morning and sit around knitting and binging the Great Galarian Bake-Off every night. Thank you for asking.
Molayne Pronouns: he/him Orientation: MLM
Side notes: Once upon a time, Molayne had a thing for Kukui. He still does, though he’s extremely supportive of Kukui’s relationship with Burnet. Kukui, meanwhile ... well, Kukui’s a smart man, but he’s never been much of a bright one, if you catch my drift. Consequently, when Molayne isn’t being the responsible older cousin for Sophocles, he’s being Celio’s shoulder to cry on ... or the other admins’ gentle and very knowledgable gay uncle.
Astrid Pronouns: she/her Orientation: Lesbian romantically but asexual otherwise
Side notes: Straight-up, Astrid is an OC born from the fact that Galar has no named admin, and this is a travesty. (More info here: https://bills-pokedex.tumblr.com/post/189774072411/we-interrupt-this-fan-regional-variation-posting ) That having been said, Astrid is trans, she’s very much got a crush on half the female admins, and the same social anxiety that’s kept her from putting her name on the Galarian system (see aforementioned link) also keeps her from interacting with any of said female admins long enough to get a date. (Ironically, half of the unnamed female admins out there in the world have a crush on her, as it usually goes with these kinds of things.)
Tl;dr In other words, when the admins facetiously call the circle “St. William’s Home for Wayward Orphans” (okay, so probably only Bebe and Cassius call it that), it’s partly because all of the admins were not picked out from prestigious tech universities but were instead found practically off the street through incredibly convoluted avenues, and also because so many admins are either not cis or not straight that the circle itself is practically an LGBT+ safe space.
The Mun Pronouns: any (see below) Orientation: Biromantic asexual
Side notes: Not an admin. On a serious note, like Bill, the mun has always had difficulty applying the concept of gender to themselves, but like LH, they didn’t realize that should be a sign to question their identity until fairly recently. That said, the mun is agender and would prefer it if you chose and ran with whatever pronoun you think works (except “they”). Out of convenience, the mun will often refer to themselves as either she/her or, ironically, they/them.}
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olympedupuget · 4 years
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Gif Request Meme - A Musical of my Choice + a Villain:  Artois and Orléans
↳ Requested by @fallenidol-453
Philippe Égalité: The only legitimate son of the Duc d’Orléans, a prince du sang from birth, Philippe was a very unlikely revolutionary. And yet Philippe showed a strong level of compassion for the lives of the lower class, going down a coal shaft to see the conditions faced by miners, pulling a groom of his from a river with his own hands, and providing shelter for the poor during the bitter winter of 1788-89. 
He was noted for his extravagant lifestyle; a noted lover of racehorses, gambling, architecture, his various and assorted mistresses, and all things English. Despite being the richest man in France, with a truly astronomical income, he nonetheless found himself frequently in debt. That was the impetus for him to totally redesign the Palais Royal over the course of two and a half years, opening it up to shopkeepers and establishing it as a major area for counter revolutionary activity, with the police being banned from intervening. As such, an overwhelming feeling of liberty prevailed there, with people from all social classes gathering to observe the spectacles and walk along the gardens there. 
There was a certain amount of hostility to be expected between the two branches of the Bourbon family, going as far back as the first Duc’s tempestuous relationship with his brother, Louis XIV. Still, the relationship between Louis XVI and Philippe gradually deteriorated over time, despite several attempts to patch things up. Orléans blamed Louis for the loss of his naval career, with the controversial Battle of Ushant in 1778 being a major breaking point in their relationship. In 1788, he spoke up at a “Royal Sitting” where Louis tried to press the Parliament into obeying his will, saying “Sire, this appears to be illegal.” Louis responded, “It is legal, because I wish it to be so.” Orléans spent the next five months in a comfortable exile at his estate, and he returned more popular than ever. 
When the Estates General was called, Orléans sided with the Third Estate, taking his place with the other delegates rather than sitting with the Royal Family as his rank entitled him to. His name was consistently brought up alongside revolutionary activity, with his bust being paraded alongside Necker’s on July 12, 1789, when the rash charge of the Prince de Lambesc into the Tuilleries heightened the people’s fears over an armed crackdown of Paris. It would be in the Palais Royal where Camille Desmoulins would jump on a table and call the people to arms, and even though the exact impact of that statement’s been disputed, the fact that Palais Royal was a huge locus point for revolutionary activity never has been. 
Among the royalists, it was popularly thought that Orléans was behind the entire Revolution, masterminding the Storming of the Bastille, the Women’s March to Versailles, a famine, and various and assorted other disturbances, in lieu of believing that the common people themselves were discontent. However, the sources nearest and dearest to Philippe suggest that he had no intention of seizing power, and Philippe’s own action of going and staying in England at Lafayette’s suggestion between October 1789 and July 1790, when he had a strong chance of fighting back against the charges and seizing power for himself by riding off the highest point of his popularity, strongly indicates that he had no intention of seizing the throne for himself. Overall, while he was a man of undeniable courage, the popular consensus is that he was, by nature, too passive to do it on his own, generally being very diffident to those near him such as his former mistress and longtime friend, Madame de Genlis, as well as her rival for his attention, Pierre Ambroise François Choderlos de Laclos, and generally disinterested in long-form plans, preferring to throw himself into whims. It is far more likely that, if a plan existed to make Philippe king, it came from one of those brains, as opposed to anything Philippe himself considered in any detail. 
He did, however, become embittered over the increasingly chilly reception he received at Versailles, including one occasion where a courtier shouted “Do not let him touch the wine!” when he entered, with him then being spat on as he made his leave. 
In the latter half of 1792, Philippe faced a bevy of problems, both personal and political, as his long-suffering wife had filed for a separation, his daughter was put on a list of émigrés and was forced to leave the country very shortly after arriving (after Madame de Genlis, who he had instructed to take her back before her name could be added, lingered for too long, causing a final breakdown in their long relationship), his popularity was rapidly fading, and he had been called, as a Deputy of the National Convention, to sit at the trial of his cousin. According to one anecdote, found in William Cooke Taylor’s Memoirs of the House of Orléans, it was in that particular maelstrom that he changed his name, as a last ditch effort to save his daughter and prove his loyalty to the Revolution, to Philippe Égalité. Many options were considered for him to not sit the trial, and there is no reason to believe, despite the long-lasting enmity that the two of them had, that Philippe, when he went to sleep the night before the trial of Louis began on December 26, that he had any idea that when it came time to give the verdict on January 14-15, he would vote “yea,” a decision that shocked the entire room, not the least Louis himself. Perhaps it was a last ditch effort to save himself, perhaps he felt pressured to do it by everyone else in the room, perhaps in that moment he truly believed that Louis’ actions merited the death penalty. It’s impossible to truly know, but in the end that one decision, more than anything else, has defined his legacy. 
However, the Royalists would soon be able to find some comfort, as, on the 4th of April 1793, his son, Louis-Philippe, Duc de Chartres, defected along with General Dumouriez, and Philippe’s enemies had the ammunition they needed.
On 7 April, 1793, he was arrested and sent to Fort Saint-Jean in Marseilles, along with two of his sons. Throughout his imprisonment, Philippe kept up an optimistic front, constantly reassuring his sons, the Duc de Montpensier and the Comte de Beaujolais, on the rare occasions he was allowed to speak to them after they were separated, that everything would turn out well, even expressing optimism about his trial in Paris. Whether this was real or simply an attempt at keeping up morale will never be known, but on November 2, 1793, he was sent back to Paris, to be imprisoned in the Conciergerie. He was tried on the 6th and, at his own request not to prolong things any longer than necessary, he was executed on that same day. By all accounts, he met his death courageously, his composure only threatening to break when the cart he was in stopped in front of the Palais Royal, so that he could very clearly see the sign on it that said it was now national property. His last words were to stop the assistants at the guillotine from taking off his boots, saying “You are losing time, you can take them off at a greater leisure when I am dead.” 
Unlike his royal cousins, his body was never found, and to this day, he is generally considered as one of the great villains of the Revolution in media associated with it, though none of the serious charges against him (the October Days being prime) were ever proven.
Charles X- For most of his younger years, like his older cousin, Charles’ defining quality was his wild life, which was punctuated by multiple love affairs, copious gambling and alcohol, and even more copious debts, with his brother, Louis XVI, somewhat reluctantly paying the bills. He also had a close friendship with his brother’s wife, who he shared a love of high living with, the two of them often being seen together at the theatre and balls. This close friendship was much remarked upon, with Artois being a frequent subject of the pornographic pamphlets that circulated about the queen, along with Marie Antoinette’s favorite, Madame de Polignac. In the years preceding and following the Revolution, however, the two of them gradually cooled, with their later relationship being marked by political disagreements. Charles consistently pressured his brother into more conservative stances during the meeting of the Estates General, arguing against doubling the Third Estates’ representation and conspiring to get rid of Louis’ liberal finance minister, Jacques Necker. The dismissal of the Necker would end up being one of the leading causes for the Storming of the Bastille, with Charles’ temporary personal victory being quickly eclipsed by the blaze that the little spark of Revolution had turned into. In the days immediately following the Storming of the Bastille, Artois was ordered to emigrate by his brother, along with the rest of his family.
He wouldn’t see France again for decades, going from court to court in Europe asking for help and trailed by a small army of creditors (who would become some of his most frequent companions, the avid huntsman only being able to go out riding at his estate at Holyrood on Sundays, when his creditors would be unable to pursue him), but with very little materializing, even less of which was successful, with the Battle of Quiberon being particularly disastrous to any hope of a royalist win by military might. Instead, he set up his main residence in London, with his mistress, Louise de Polastron, sister-in-law of Madame de Polignac, upon whose death he swore a vow of celibacy, the former playboy becoming sober and religious in his later years. The family briefly returned to France in May 1814, with the exile of Napoleon to Elba, however his later escape and mustering of the troops led to them leaving the city in February 1815, only able to fully establish themselves back in the country shortly after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo. Upon his brother, the Comte de Provence’s ascension to the throne as Louis XVIII (the space between XVI and XVIII being taken up by Charles’ young nephew, Louis-Charles, who died in prison and therefore never ruled), Charles became known as a leading member of the Ultra Royalist faction, who were, as the name suggests, “More Royalist than the king.” His brother dying without a male heir, Charles took the throne in 1824, though his highly conservative policies following his more tolerant brother’s reign made him highly unpopular with the public. 
In 1830, he was forced to abdicate. His intent had been for the throne to go to his young grandson, however, it would go to Louis-Philippe, Duc d’Orléans, the son of Philippe Égalite (who would himself end up being deposed.) He spent the remainder of his life similarly to how he spent his exile, traveling from place to place, hounded by debtors.
 Eventually, he would die in Austria, on 6 November 1836, 43 years to the day of his revolutionary cousin’s execution. 
Sources: 
The Chevalier de Saint-Georges: Virtuoso of the Sword and the Bow: Gabriel Banat
A French King at Holyrood: Alexander John Mackenzie Stuart
The Journalists and the July Revolution in France: The Role of the Political Press in the Overthrow of the Bourbon Restoration 1827–1830: Daniel Rader
Memoirs of the House of Orléans: William Cooke Taylor
The Perilous Crown: France Between Revolutions, 1814-1848: Munro Price
Prince of the blood : being an account of the illustrious birth, the strange life and the horrible death of Louis-Philippe Joseph, fifth duke of Orleans, better remembered as Philippe Egalite: Evart Seelye Scudder
Revolutions in the Western World 1775–1825: Jeremy Black, ed.
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talesofpanem · 5 years
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On the Wednesday Train
Author: @xerxia31
Rating: K
Summary: The Wednesday train brings a visitor from Katniss’s past, but she’s not ready to see him.
I sit on the porch swing Peeta made last fall, reading and re-reading the few simple lines scrawled on the thick Capitol paper trembling in my hands. I want to see you. And from the one person I never thought would write them.
It’s been more than five years since the end of the rebellion, more than five years since I killed Coin, more than five years since I was exiled to District Twelve. More than five years since I’ve seen my former best friend. 
More than five years since he killed my baby sister.
Behind me, our cottage door creaks open on hinges that I mentally remind myself to oil. “Are you hungry?” Peeta’s voice is low, tentative. He knows what’s in the letter, was beside me when I opened it. But like always, he’s giving me the space to come to terms with its contents on my own, no pressure. Peeta never pressures me into anything. I glance over my shoulder at him and he smiles softly. “Dinner is ready, if you want.”
I toss the letter onto the table that rests just inside the door as I follow my husband into the cozy little home we built together a couple of years ago. If the past five years have taught me anything, it’s that I can now afford to think before I act. I don’t have to answer the letter now.
I don’t have to answer the letter ever.
—–
It takes a month.
A month of thinking. Of reliving that awful day in the city circle, of nightmares and tears and hours spent staring into the void. Of missing Prim so much that my very bones ache with it. 
A month of long walks in the forest. Of reliving those quiet moments of innocence, of brotherhood, of shared responsibility but also shared triumph, so sweet in memory but gone forever.
A month of yelling and of whispered conversations. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to see him,” I confess one night, long after we’ve gone to bed. We’re on top of the sheets in deference to the heat, a faint breeze wafting through the open window to alight on sweat-sheened skin.
“You’re strong enough to do anything,” Peeta reminds me. “And you don’t have to do it alone.” He’s right, of course. There aren’t many in District 12, even still. But the few of us who are here have built a community together. Our friends, our family of choice if not by birth.
“He hurt me.” There are so many more layers to my fear, my reluctance to see Gale again. But the simplest truth is that Gale’s actions hurt me terribly, irreparably.
“I know,” Peeta says, tracing soothing circles on the scarred skin of my belly. “But he loved you too.”
-----
He arrives on the Wednesday train, which surprises me. I’d thought a fancy government job in District Two would have afforded him the means to travel via hovercraft, or maybe even private car. Instead, Gale is taking a train along the same tracks that twice hurtled Peeta and me towards certain death.
We don’t meet him at the station. I pace our porch until the train whistle echoes through the district. Then I switch to pacing our small living room.
Peeta, though outwardly calm, has covered our kitchen table with baked goods, the scents of hot yeast and sugar filling our home even with all of the windows flung wide. He’s sheepish, but I know how keeping his hands and mind busy helps him fight off the false memories that still plague him from time to time, memories that so often involve Gale and me and things that never happened between us. 
And things that did.
Despite his clear inner turmoil, Peeta abandons his baking to pace with me. “What could he possibly want after all of this time?” I mutter. It’s a hypothetical question; I could have asked in my return letter weeks earlier but I didn’t. I only wrote ‘okay’, and left it at that.
Peeta wraps his arms around me and kisses my temple. “I don’t know, love,” he says, the same answer he’s given me every time I’ve asked. “But we’ll find out soon enough.”
I know the district like the back of my hand, know exactly how long it takes to walk from the train station to the little cottage Peeta and I built about a half mile from where the fence once stood. That span comes and goes, and then a second of equal length. Peeta and I stop pacing, and eventually move out onto our porch, settling into the swing together, his arm still holding me steady, my head now settled onto his shoulder. “Maybe he changed his mind,” I say, voicing the thought I know we’ve both had. “Or missed his connection?”
Peeta merely hums above me, a sound that could be agreement but I suspect is not, and sets the swing in motion with a push of his good leg. And he’s right, because only a few minutes later a long shadow turns down our walkway. Gale, silhouetted by the sun, strange and yet somehow familiar too.
And not alone.
Peeta’s smile is genuine and delighted as he takes in Gale’s companion, my expression is likely the confused scowl I’ve spent much of my life wearing.
She has straight black hair that bounces with each step, and wide, wary almond-shaped eyes, so dark they glisten like wet coal in the afternoon light. As Gale approaches, she tucks her face into his shoulder shyly.
“It’s good to see you,” Peeta says when my own silence has stretched too long, clomping down the porch steps while I stand frozen at the top. Gale shifts the dark haired toddler on his hip to reach for Peeta’s outstretched hand.
“It’s been a long time.” I jolt a little at Gale’s voice, just the same as it always was, and yet different too. Older. More tired.
Gale’s pint-sized companion peeks out at us again, gazing back and forth between Peeta and me, her little brow wrinkling. “And who is this?” Peeta asks, smiling at the little girl and ducking to her level. She reaches out to pat his golden curls before retreating again.
“This is Iris,” Gale says. He turns to speak directly to her. “Can you say hello?” The fondness in his voice reminds me so much of how he always used to speak to Posy, and to Prim. 
Prim.
My throat closes and heavy clouds descend over my heart. I think Peeta notices, even as distracted as he is by Iris. Peeta loves children. He’d make an incredible father, if he had a different wife. Instead, he comes back to the wife he does have, me, and wraps his arm around my shoulder again, taking some of my weight as my knees tremble.
Gale follows him up, until he’s standing just feet away for the first time in so long. Solemn grey eyes regard me cautiously. “Hey Katniss,” he says and a part of me is inexplicably saddened by the loss of the nickname I always hated. 
“Gale,” I whisper. Then nothing. We size each other up like rivals before the duel, the air between us fetid with grief and fear.
“Come inside,” Peeta encourages.
We move into the living room that bears Peeta’s touch on every surface, bright pictures on the walls and soft blankets tossed over the comfortable sofa and chairs. It’s smaller and simpler than our old houses in Victor’s Village, but palatial compared to the Seam shack where I grew up. And like all of our little house, it’s warm and welcoming, just like the man who makes gentle small talk as we settle in, asking about the trip, the weather, bringing out sweet tea and plates of baked goods. 
Gale sits on the couch with Iris on his lap and my gaze is drawn to her like a magnet. She’s perhaps two, or maybe just a bit older, and admittedly adorable, her initial shyness already fading as she looks around curiously. 
A child. Gale has a child of his own. It hits me hard, the unfairness of it. That he should have a perfect family when he stole that future from my sister. That he’s built a life when there are still days I can’t even get out of bed.
Peeta glances at Gale before asking, “Do you like cookies, Iris?” Gale grins, and Iris nods, a huge smile dimpling her plump cheeks. Peeta holds out a cookie, cinnamon, the kind I like best, and she takes it in that trusting way that most kids seem to exhibit with Peeta.
We fall quiet again. Gale bounces Iris on his knees while she messily devours a cookie, giggling and feeding him bites. She clearly adores him. And the way he looks at her fills my chest with an unfamiliar longing. Not for Gale, not even for a baby of my own. But for the contentment of a life I’ve never even wanted.
Peeta carries the conversation, telling Gale about the medicine factory that is slated to open in the fall, the influx of new people we expect will follow. Gale speaks not about his life in Two, but about the new housing going up above ground in Thirteen, now that the decontamination there is complete. 
When Peeta inquires if Gale is part of that project, he shakes his head. “My mom’s house will be in the first group. Rory is on one of the construction crews.”
“They’re not with you in Two?” I ask, the first words I’ve said since Peeta’s return. Gale stiffens, a frown tugging at his lips.
“They’re not,” he says, and ever after five years I can read his pain, hear it in his gruff voice. “But I speak with them a couple of times a month.” That surprises me, Gale was always so close to Hazelle, even when the mines, and then the war, took him away for so many hours, he still made time for her. I wonder why he hasn’t brought them to Two.
Iris is getting restless, climbing over Gale and making little whining noises. When Peeta offers to take her to feed Haymitch’s geese (“they’re much tamer than the man,” he assures Gale) I feel betrayed. I don’t want to be alone with this stranger who isn’t a stranger. So much for not having to do this alone.
Peeta takes Iris’s hand, she follows him happily. It’s quiet for many, many long moments, only the soft murmur of Peeta and Iris’s conversation floating in from the kitchen as they gather bits of stale bread for the geese, and the wind through the willows just outside my window. The front door creaks again, announcing their departure.
Then Gale and I are alone. I shift in my chair by the fireplace, across from Gale, and really look at him.
He’s well put together, nice clothing and new shoes, neatly trimmed nails with no coal dust under them. But he seems so much older than his not quite 25 years, the line between his brows a permanent feature, a weariness in his grey eyes. He regards me the same way, cataloguing the changes that five years have wrought on my own face. I know what he sees. While my face was spared in the explosion and fire all of those years ago, the burn scars that mar my arms and legs are on full display. I’m no longer self-conscious enough about them to wear long sleeves, especially in the late August heat. This is who I am, and the people of Twelve accept me, faults and all. More importantly, Peeta loves me despite everything. I have nothing to be ashamed of. And I remind myself that I have nothing to fear here either.
“How old is Iris?” I start. There are a thousand things we should be talking about, but his daughter is perhaps the easiest.
“She just turned two in April,” he says.
“You didn’t mention her.” 
He nods. “Her mother was my neighbour, in Two. She died just before Christmas. There was no one to take the baby.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “She’s not your-”
“She is my daughter,” he interrupts, voice hard. “In every way that matters.”
I’m momentarily stunned, not just by his vehemence, but that he’s taken in an orphan, and is raising her apparently alone, without her mother or his own. That’s not the Gale I remember, who cared about his family, sure, but not for strangers. He never seemed upset about the kids in the community home like I was.
“She’s why I’m here,” he admits.
“You wanted me to meet her?” He could have just sent a photograph, like Annie did when little Finn was born. 
“No, I mean, yeah, I did, but that’s not what I meant,” he stutters. I bite my tongue, giving him the space to sort out his thoughts. “Having her in my life…” he trails off, and stands, walking over to the window. I can see his pained expression reflected in the glass.
“I wanted you to know that I get it now,” he says, still facing away. “I didn’t really understand, after.” He sighs, but I stay still and silent. “I felt bad.” He shakes his head and turns to face me. I’m shocked to see his eyes are shimmering. “I feel bad, I feel fucking awful, about what I created with Beetee, what they used it for. But until Iris, I didn’t really understand. I do now.”
I frown and shake my head. Having a baby shouldn’t be necessary to understand why blowing up a bunch of kids is wrong. This is ridiculous.
“I understand,” he tries again, “that there are things more important than being right.” He tries to clear the roughness from his throat. “Back then, I was always so angry, so damned righteous. I hated being so powerless.” 
“We all did,” I remind him, anger in my voice. “Nothing makes you feel quite so powerless as seeing your little sister’s name pulled out of a giant glass bowl. Of hearing her essentially sentenced to death.”
“I know,” he says softly, though he doesn’t. The only person who really understands the scars I bear on my soul is Peeta. And maybe Haymitch, on his more lucid days. “Once the war started,” he continues, “and we were in Thirteen, well, people started giving me a little bit of that power I craved. It was a heady experience.” 
“It never felt like that for me,” I grumble. My experiences with the people of Thirteen were so different. I never felt like I was being given the power to change things. I felt like a tool, or a puppet.
“I know,” he says again. “And that should have been my first clue. You knew, you always knew, right from the beginning, that Coin was using us.” 
Gale closes his eyes, head bowed while I stare, unable to absolve him. My sister is dead, as are a lot of other kids and medics. While their deaths aren’t wholly his fault, his contribution is unforgivable, despite the pressure we were both under in Thirteen. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he whispers, as if reading my thoughts. “I just want you to know that I am so very sorry. But more than that, I understand, and I pledge to you, and to Prim, that I’m going to do everything in my power to make the world a better place.”
Honestly, that still sounds like what he thought he was doing with Thirteen, and I frown. “You don’t believe me?”
“I do.”
“But it isn’t enough?”
“I guess I don’t see how it’s any different. You’ve always wanted to change Panem, Gale. You’ve always wanted to forge ahead full speed and crush anything in your path” I expect him to get angry, to defend himself. Instead he smiles, wistfully.
“You’re right,” he says. “But it is different now. I’m different now,” he emphasizes. He turns away again, leaning on the window sill. I join him, our shoulders nearly touching as we look out over my front yard, the laneway beyond it. Victor’s Village is too far to see from my house, but when the wind blows just right I can hear the sounds of children playing on the green there. Not today, though. There’s only somber silence. “I’m trying,” he says finally, the words defeated. “I may never get it right, but I’m trying.”
“I don’t understand.” Trying to get through to me? Trying to be a good dad? I just don’t know.
“Trying to be like you. I used to think you were weak,” he says, and I bristle. “I thought your compassion was cowardice.” He faces me again, and this time his tears have spilled over, twin trails tracking down his cheeks. “But it’s the opposite. Your compassion is your strength. It’s why you both survived the Games. Why you found Peeta and nursed him back to health. Why you dragged him through the sewers instead of letting him kill himself.” He turns away and I absorb his words. Compassion. It’s a word I’ve always associated with Peeta. But maybe I have a little myself too. 
“It’s why you’re listening to me now instead of chasing me down the lane with your bow,” Gale murmurs. A reluctant smile lifts one side of my mouth. Under all the bluster, under the fancy clothes and the fancy haircut, he’s still Gale, still that boy who was once my best friend. I’m not so petulant that I can’t admit, if only to myself, that I’ve missed him.
He must see the softening of my expression because he laughs quietly and wipes his face roughly with a sleeve. He doesn’t ask me for forgiveness, which makes me glad. I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive him yet. But maybe someday. 
We watch the trees wave in the light breeze in silence that feels far more companionable until toddler squeals float through the woods, approaching. Peeta and Iris returning. Reality returning. 
“Are you okay, Katniss?” I know he means more than am I all right with him being here and the things we’ve talked about. 
“I am. We are,” I say, meaning me and Peeta. And maybe meaning Gale too. 
They stay only a few minutes longer before Gale takes his tired little girl to the boarding house where they’re spending the night. Peeta offers our spare room, but I’m not sad when Gale declines. We made progress today, but I’m not ready for anything more just yet. 
We watch their retreat from our porch, Peeta’s arm again wrapped around me. 
“You were so brave today,” Peeta says when they turn the corner and disappear from view. I nod, turning into his arms, inhaling his scent. “And so was he.”
“So was he,” I agree. 
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theculturedmarxist · 4 years
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My dad was born in 1917. Somehow, he survived the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918-1919, but an outbreak of whooping cough in 1923 claimed his baby sister, Clementina. One of my dad’s first memories was seeing his sister’s tiny white casket. Another sister was permanently marked by scarlet fever. In 1923, my dad was hit by a car and spent two weeks in a hospital with a fractured skull as well as a lacerated thumb. His immigrant parents had no medical insurance, but the driver of the car gave his father $50 toward the medical bills. The only lasting effect was the scar my father carried for the rest of his life on his right thumb.
The year 1929 brought the Great Depression and lean times. My father’s father had left the family, so my dad, then 12, had to pitch in. He got a newspaper route, which he kept for four years, quitting high school after tenth grade so he could earn money for the family. In 1935, like millions of other young men of that era, he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), a creation of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal that offered work on environmental projects of many kinds. He battled forest fires in Oregon for two years before returning to his family and factory work. In 1942, he was drafted into the Army, going back to a factory job when World War II ended. Times grew a little less lean in 1951 when he became a firefighter, after which he felt he could afford to buy a house and start a family.
I’m offering all this personal history as the context for a prediction of my dad’s that, for obvious reasons, came to my mind again recently. When I was a teenager, he liked to tell me: “I had it tough in the beginning and easy in the end. You, Willy, have had it easy in the beginning, but will likely have it tough in the end.” His prophecy stayed with me, perhaps because even then, somewhere deep down, I already suspected that my dad was right.
The COVID-19 pandemic is now grabbing the headlines, all of them, and a global recession, if not a depression, seems like a near-certainty. The stock market has been tanking and people’s lives are being disrupted in fundamental and scary ways. My dad knew the experience of losing a loved one to disease, of working hard to make ends meet during times of great scarcity, of sacrificing for the good of one’s family. Compared to him, it’s true that, so far, I’ve had an easier life as an officer in the Air Force and then a college teacher and historian. But at age 57, am I finally ready for the hard times to come? Are any of us?
And keep in mind that this is just the beginning. Climate change (recall Australia’s recent and massive wildfires) promises yet more upheavals, more chaos, more diseases. America’s wanton militarism and lying politicians promise more wars. What’s to be done to avert or at least attenuate the tough times to come, assuming my dad’s prediction is indeed now coming true? What can we do?
It’s Time to Reimagine America
Here’s the one thing about major disruptions to normalcy: they can create opportunities for dramatic change. (Disaster capitalists know this, too, unfortunately.) President Franklin Roosevelt recognized this in the 1930s and orchestrated his New Deal to revive the economy and put Americans like my dad back to work.
In 2001, the administration of President George W. Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney capitalized on the shock-and-awe disruption of the 9/11 attacks to inflict on the world their vision of a Pax Americana, effectively a militarized imperium justified (falsely) as enabling greater freedom for all. The inherent contradiction in such a dreamscape was so absurd as to make future calamity inevitable. Recall what an aide to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld scribbled down, only hours after the attack on the Pentagon and the collapse of the Twin Towers, as his boss’s instructions (especially when it came to looking for evidence of Iraqi involvement): “Go massive — sweep it all up, things related and not.” And indeed they would do just that, with an emphasis on the “not,” including, of course, the calamitous invasion of Iraq in 2003.
To progressive-minded people thinking about this moment of crisis, what kind of opportunities might open to us when (or rather if) Donald Trump is gone from the White House? Perhaps this coronaviral moment is the perfect time to consider what it would mean for us to go truly big, but without the usual hubris or those disastrous invasions of foreign countries. To respond to COVID-19, climate change, and the staggering wealth inequities in this country that, when combined, will cause unbelievable levels of needless suffering, what’s needed is a drastic reordering of our national priorities.
Remember, the Fed’s first move was to inject $1.5 trillion into the stock market. (That would have been enough to forgive all current student debt.) The Trump administration has also promised to help airlines, hotels, and above all oil companies and the fracking industry, a perfect storm when it comes to trying to sustain and enrich those upholding a kleptocratic and amoral status quo.
This should be a time for a genuinely new approach, one fit for a world of rising disruption and disaster, one that would define a new, more democratic, less bellicose America. To that end, here are seven suggestions, focusing — since I’m a retired military officer — mainly on the U.S. military, a subject that continues to preoccupy me, especially since, at present, that military and the rest of the national security state swallow up roughly 60% of federal discretionary spending:
1. If ever there was a time to reduce our massive and wasteful military spending, this is it. There was never, for example, any sense in investing up to $1.7 trillion over the next 30 years to “modernize” America’s nuclear arsenal. (Why are new weapons needed to exterminate humanity when the “old” ones still work just fine?) Hundreds of stealth fighters and bombers — it’s estimated that Lockheed Martin’s disappointing F-35 jet fighter alone will cost $1.5 trillion over its life span — do nothing to secure us from pandemics, the devastating effects of climate change, or other all-too-pressing threats. Such weaponry only emboldens a militaristic and chauvinistic foreign policy that will facilitate yet more wars and blowback problems of every sort. And speaking of wars, isn’t it finally time to end U.S. involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan? More than $6 trillion has already been wasted on those wars and, in this time of global peril, even more is being wasted on this country’s forever conflicts across the Greater Middle East and Africa. (Roughly $4 billion a month continues to be spent on Afghanistan alone, despite all the talk about “peace” there.)
2. Along with ending profligate weapons programs and quagmire wars, isn’t it time for the U.S. to begin dramatically reducing its military “footprint” on this planet? Roughly 800 U.S. military bases circle the globe in a historically unprecedented fashion at a yearly cost somewhere north of $100 billion. Cutting such numbers in half over the next decade would be a more than achievable goal. Permanently cutting provocative “war games” in South Korea, Europe, and elsewhere would be no less sensible. Are North Korea and Russia truly deterred by such dramatic displays of destructive military might?
3. Come to think of it, why does the U.S. need the immediate military capacity to fight two major foreign wars simultaneously, as the Pentagon continues to insist we do and plan for, in the name of “defending” our country? Here’s a radical proposal: if you add 70,000 Special Operations forces to 186,000 Marine Corps personnel, the U.S. already possesses a potent quick-strike force of roughly 250,000 troops. Now, add in the Army’s 82nd and 101st Airborne divisions and the 10th Mountain Division. What you have is more than enough military power to provide for America’s actual national security. All other Army divisions could be reduced to cadres, expandable only if our borders are directly threatened by war. Similarly, restructure the Air Force and Navy to de-emphasize the present “global strike” vision of those services, while getting rid of Donald Trump’s newest service, the Space Force, and the absurdist idea of taking war into low earth orbit. Doesn’t America already have enough war here on this small planet of ours?
4. Bring back the draft, just not for military purposes. Make it part of a national service program for improving America. It’s time for a new Civilian Conservation Corps focused on fostering a Green New Deal. It’s time for a new Works Progress Administration to rebuild America’s infrastructure and reinvigorate our culture, as that organization did in the Great Depression years. It’s time to engage young people in service to this country. Tackling COVID-19 or future pandemics would be far easier if there were quickly trained medical aides who could help free doctors and nurses to focus on the more difficult cases. Tackling climate change will likely require more young men and women fighting forest fires on the west coast, as my dad did while in the CCC — and in a climate-changing world there will be no shortage of other necessary projects to save our planet. Isn’t it time America’s youth answered a call to service? Better yet, isn’t it time we offered them the opportunity to truly put America, rather than themselves, first?
5. And speaking of “America First,” that eternal Trumpian catch-phrase, isn’t it time for all Americans to recognize that global pandemics and climate change make a mockery of walls and go-it-alone nationalism, not to speak of politics that divide, distract, and keep so many down? President Dwight D. Eisenhower once said that only Americans can truly hurt America, but there’s a corollary to that: only Americans can truly save America — by uniting, focusing on our common problems, and uplifting one another. To do so, it’s vitally necessary to put an end to fear-mongering (and warmongering). As President Roosevelt famously said in his first inaugural address in the depths of the Great Depression, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Fear inhibits our ability to think clearly, to cooperate fully, to change things radically as a community.
6. To cite Yoda, the Jedi master, we must unlearn what we have learned. For example, America’s real heroes shouldn’t be “warriors” who kill or sports stars who throw footballs and dunk basketballs. We’re witnessing our true heroes in action right now: our doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel, together with our first responders, and those workers who stay in grocery stores, pharmacies, and the like and continue to serve us all despite the danger of contracting the coronavirus from customers. They are all selflessly resisting a threat too many of us either didn’t foresee or refused to treat seriously, most notably, of course, President Donald Trump: a pandemic that transcends borders and boundaries. But can Americans transcend the increasingly harsh and divisive borders and boundaries of our own minds? Can we come to work selflessly to save and improve the lives of others? Can we become, in a sense, lovers of humanity?
7. Finally, we must extend our love to encompass nature, our planet. For if we keep treating our lands, our waters, and our skies like a set of trash cans and garbage bins, our children and their children will inherit far harder times than the present moment, hard as it may be.
What these seven suggestions really amount to is rejecting a militarized mindset of aggression and a corporate mindset of exploitation for one that sees humanity and this planet more holistically. Isn’t it time to regain that vision of the earth we shared collectively during the Apollo moon missions: a fragile blue sanctuary floating in the velvety darkness of space, an irreplaceable home to be cared for and respected since there’s no other place for us to go? Otherwise, I fear that my father’s prediction will come true not just for me, but for generations to come and in ways that even he couldn’t have imagined.
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dailyaudiobible · 4 years
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07/24/2020 DAB Transcript
2 Chronicles 11:1-13:22, Romans 8:26-39, Psalms 18:37-50, Proverbs 19:27-29
Today is the 24th day of July welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian and it is an honor to be here with you today as we just come…come in and find a place around the Global Campfire and just…ahh…exhale. I mean, some of the stuff I'm still thinking about from yesterday from the book of Romans. It was such an exhilarating view of who we are. And, so, I'm looking forward to getting there. But before we can get there, we have a little territory to cover in the book of second Chronicles and we’ll read second Chronicles chapters 11, 12, and 13 today. And just by way of reminder, we’re kinda covering this territory again where King Solomon, we…we went through his reign and he has passed away and his son Rehoboam has become king, but he has promised to be more difficult and put much more labor on the…much more of a burden on the people in his kingdom. And, so, ten of the tribes are in the process of rebelling and they are turning to a man named Jeroboam. So, Rehoboam and Jeroboam sound very similar so it’s easy to get them confused, but this is the point at which there is a divide in ancient Israel and their splitting into two separate kingdoms with two separate kings. So, we pick up that story in second Chronicles chapter 11.
Commentary:
Okay. So as we’re continuing to work our way through Romans, like in yesterday's reading we read some of the implications of what Paul's been laying out and that is, “the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead, this is the Spirit of the of the most-high God, the same Spirit dwells in us, that we have been…we have been made God's children, that we are joint heirs with Jesus to the kingdom of God.” So, Paul’s kind of continuing forward today explaining to us that, “Jesus was the firstborn among many to follow into this new thing God is doing upon the earth and this new divine family of the children of God, joint heirs with Jesus to the kingdom of God upon this earth.” And you could step back and go, “okay. Where…like how…like, how does this work? Where is…where is this coming from?” For Paul this comes because Jesus was dead and was resurrected, right? He had a rebirth from the dead back into life. So, for Paul, he's recognizing, “okay, nobody just raises themselves from the dead. God raised Jesus from the dead as the firstborn into this new family where the law and sin and death have no claim.” And Paul…in some of Paul's other writings he’ll call Jesus “the second Adam, the last Adam”, right? So, there's Adam, like the first person who did fall into sin and therefore every one of his offspring after him was…was in the same condition. Jesus on the other hand knew no sin, died, and came back to life reborn and those who believe, those who are in Christ then receive this Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. Like, then we also follow after the same footsteps of Jesus and die to who we were and are reborn into this new divine family upon the earth. We’re not separated from God by sin or any other claim to us. Now we call God papa, abba, daddy, father, or as my kids call me, “padre”, this term of endearment that’s like a loving parent and child relationship, this bond that never ends. That is so…that is the good news. That's why this is good news. And it's so huge. It’s like…how do you describe this? Even Paul…Paul says, “what then shall we say about these things? If God is for us who can be against us? Indeed, He who did not spare His own son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also, along with Him freely give us all things? Who will bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is the one who will condemn? Christ as the one who died. And more than that he was raised who is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will trouble or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?” In all these things we have complete victory through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things that are in the future, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” That is the best news ever! We are being invited forward, my brothers and sisters. We are not invited to just be on the spin cycle for the rest of this year and come in to next year so exhausted from all of the things that are going on in the world that we don't…don't even know what to believe anymore or which way is up or down. Nothing can separate us from the love of God except us. We have to believe this, and then we have to live from this place. According to Paul, we have been reborn into the family of God, joint heirs with Jesus, who is the first born of this family, a new Adam as it were. So, on some level…like I'm asking you, but I'm asking myself, what are we waiting on? Like what are we waiting for? What has to happen before we actually embrace the good news and live from that place which changes the way we look at everything and everyone? Because we realize everybody’s invited. All are welcome and we are the light of the world according to Jesus, that will show the way. So, I don’t know. Something to think about today.
Prayer:
Holy Spirit, as…as we did yesterday, as we do most every day, we ask You to come and lead us into all truth. Make us aware. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear what is really going on here and how big of a role You have invited us to have. The invitation is unbelievable. This is the gift. It's free. We don't…we can’t…we couldn't earn this and yet You have bestowed upon us and it's such good news it's unspeakable. And, so, we are thankful for the unspeakable gift of the good news. And we ask that Your Holy Spirit would give us eyes to see and wake us up to the reality. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.
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Well, well, well…
Guess who’s back after over a year of hiatus (currently barfing at all hiatuses as a socio-phonetician…)!
My friends and family know that these past 12 months have probably been the busiest months of my life. I was working through co-founding an organization, dissertating, taking classes, and more recently searching for a new job…. while also trying to exercise, cook, be a decent wife, daughter, sister, friend, cat/dog mom. The whole nine yards. So, it’s safe to say if it wasn’t a necessity, I pretty much wasn’t doing it. So clearly, blogging se fue a la mierda.
With all that said, I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel! I’ll be defending my dissertation mid-June, and moving to Erie, PA for a new job shortly after! I couldn’t be more excited, as I feel the faculty I’ve met so far is pretty kick-ass, and I’m stoked to be able to grow as an educator and researcher. A bish can spread her wings and FLY!
I haven’t announced the good news through a classic social media post because it feels shady af since people are literally dying, losing their jobs, and suffering on a daily basis as we try to navigate this new way of life, while Rona’s out here runnin’ rampant.
Speaking of Rona, before I get any more sidetracked, since being quarantined beginning March 20th (or 44 days, or 1056 hours…. but who’s counting?), I’ve been thinking about my family a lot, particularly my dad. Living in NY and working in an Arab grocery store is a recipe for disaster, which has got my stress levels #allthewayup.
I call him daily to do a little check in, and recently, he’s started to use more Arabic with me… even sending me Arabic memes #mamaImadeit! It’s crazy how after spending 29 years on this planet, I’m FINALLY able to take part in that aspect of my dad’s culture. (Shout out to Dr. Zafer for really pushing me in Arabic this semester!)
Sin embargo, even though I can hold my own in Arabic, I’m far from native and even though it’s the native language of one of my parents, it’s my THIRD language! When I think about it, which I’ve been doing a lot lately since thinking about existential questions is the new dissertation procrastination technique, it actually makes me more confused when I try to “define” myself.
Most likely, if I have a kid, I won’t teach him/her Arabic. My husband and I will pass on Spanish, which will be hard since it’s not my native language, meaning that Arabic will pretty much die with me…
On my wedding day, my dad asked me “so, are you planning on changing your last name?” and I could see he was literally holding his breath as he waited for my response. When I told him no….. chacho, that sigh of relief he let out could literally be felt by all of my Sudanese ancestors LOL. But all jokes aside, it’s truly heartbreaking to think that with me, that cultural tie will die.
How do you pass on a culture that’s not truly yours? Identity is so complex, and even if I wanted to identify as Sudanese, I couldn’t. The moment another Arab hears my Arabic, it’s like …… “ohhhhhh so you’re American! I was confused because your last name is Mohamed” and then the “wait you’re not muslim…? But your dad is muslim sooo??” Literally, I’ve heard that at least 67 times.
At LEAST!
Let’s also not forget the fact that I didn’t visit Sudan until I was 18, and I’ve only been there twice. Let’s ALSOOOO not forget that I’m black lmao. Can’t really hide that one lol, and I could literally write a book on the complexities of being black, but for the sake of this post, I’m just gonna leave it at that.
Actually in Saudi Arabia
Literally, no caption needed. 
To further complicate the identity mierda, I was also 18 the first time I went to Puerto Rico; but, I’ve been so many times that I’ve literally lost track. My husband’s Puerto Rican, I’ve been given an honorary Puerto Rican/Caribbean card by several Puerto Ricans, including my suegra. I speak Spanish fluently and have a slight Caribbean accent when doing so, I worship Marc Anthony and Hector Lavoe, my favorite dessert is flan, favorite music genere is probably reggaeton (#rachetontheinside)… así que….. What the heck am I?
Better question. Where is my honorary Arab card, because nobodyyyy has offered that up to me yet and I’m pretty sure a bish will be waiting on it until she dead dead.
How does one construct their identity, and what factors play a role in that construction? Is there some formula I can throw together that will give me my identity. Like, Flan de queso + Bad Bunny = Boricua, kinda? Is there a certain amount of times I need to go to Sudan before I’m accepted as a “true Sudanese?,” a certain amount of lexicon I need to acquire before I can claim that dialect of Arabic?
      Classic.
    Most days I’m black. Punto. But some days, I’m confused and unsure. My hispanic friends tell me I’m Puerto Rican. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not, but I find it so interesting that I can be completely accepted in that culture, but struggle to be accepted by those with whom I share heritage. I also think, since I basically just became a real adult, what type of identity/culture will I pass on to my potential kid… or maybe my 10 cats… It’s a toss up at this point.
First trip to PR with my favorite meerkats!
Processed with VSCO with a6 preset
At the end of the day, as I reflect and basically find no real answers lol, one thing I can say is that at least I know how to navigate so many spaces and cultures. I’m literally a freaking chameleon. There’s “yasss sis” black Sherez, “Hacho mano ehto e’ un palo” Caribbean Sherez, “ship ship wen?” sorta Arab Sherez, and even “Excellent! I can certainly have that to you by 5pm,” navigating-white-spaces Sherez. LOL Maybe that’s what I’ll be passing along. Chameleon training 101.
  So anyways. Congrats! You’ve made it to the end of this stream of consciousness blog post. I guarantee this is not how my academic writing is LOL.
If YOU have any struggles, comments, insights, lo que sea, about identity, feel free to share! And share this post too lol. I’m tired of hearing about Rona. Let’s change it up and talk about some existential ish!
-Sherez ❤
  Identity crisis... existential questions during cuarentena! Well, well, well... Guess who's back after over a year of hiatus (currently barfing at all hiatuses as a socio-phonetician...)!
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lgcezra · 5 years
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dated october 1st.
ezra is brought to the head manager’s office early in the morning, separated from the group before their dance practice. once inside, he can immediately see kim hyuncheol standing behind his desk with a very stern expression. “you may close the door behind you and sit down.” he says in surprisingly fluent english. he gestures towards a chair on the other side of the desk facing his own. “i gave my speech in korean last time, so let me speak to you in english to make sure you understand every single word i’m about to say.”
“i don’t know how you do things where you’re from and quite honestly, it doesn’t concern me. you signed a contract with a korean company, so you must follow our rules. you’ve barely spent three months here and yet show blatant disregard for both our trainees and staff members. there have been several reports of you being hungover on company grounds and picking a fight with cha nayeon in the middle of practice, which many found very distasteful. now, since we don’t have actual proof of you being hungover and since the fight with nayeon-ssi seems to be a one time thing, i’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. you better believe, however, that from now on and until our suspicions are cleared, we will watch you very, very closely.” does he understand the trouble he’s in yet? hyuncheol doubts it. mistakes are possible but with ezra they just seem to be piling up.
“which brings me to the main event. i’m absolutely ashamed by the way you behaved during your pre-concert interview. i couldn’t believe my ears when i reviewed it with other managers. honestly, at this point, i wonder if you even want to be here. you could be the most talented of your batch and i couldn’t care any less if your personality doesn’t drastically improve. you treated our precious staff member with disrespect during your interview, not to mention our managers by suggesting they treat you with bias. this, young man, is a behavior we do not tolerate in this company. we wouldn’t have tolerated it from bae siwoo himself, so what have you accomplished so far in your life that makes you think you have the right to speak in that tone and treat this great opportunity as a joke? you’ve been here since july, ezra. if you think you’ve been treated unfairly by a staff member, you come to me. but i’d suggest you take a look at yourself before doing that, because you haven’t been very pleasant since your arrival. they’re not here to cater to your every whim.”
he takes a pause, gathering his thoughts and letting ezra take all of the information in. he might be harsh, but the more they let it pass and the more he feels entitled to act that way thinking there won’t be any repercussions.
“prove us that we didn’t make a mistake choosing you. it’s clear that we’ve seen something in you. but so far you’re not letting it show. if you’re going through hardships you need to let us know instead of acting up like this.” there’s no doubt a lot of anger and frustration in this young man, but if he keeps it to himself there’s just so much any of them can do about it.
“now on to your punishment, because i don’t have all day.” he hands ezra a calendar for the month of october. “that is your new schedule for this month. as you can see, you will not be joining regular practice with the other trainees. i believe you aren’t worthy of that privilege at the moment. because yes, it is a privilege whethere you treat your presence here as one or not. i’m not encouraging you to leave, ezra. in fact, i’d love for you to stay and grow. more precisely, grow up, as you mentioned you failed to do in your interview.” maybe ezra won’t believe him right now. maybe he will think they’re out to get him, that they want to kick him out. while they could have, hyuncheol doesn’t want to. he firmly believes in second chances, but it can only happen if ezra plays by the rules. “you will be on service duty instead of training. i hear you’ve been neglecting your mandatory chores, it’s a great opportunity for you to learn a lesson. it’s only natural that we clean up after ourselves. even idols still do it when they use practice rooms. it’s called having respect for your work environment and the maintenance staff who are not here to be your personal servants. you’re of course banned from appearing on the instagram account. we don’t reward bad behavior here at legacy.”
he explains the schedule in more details ( can be found in the ooc note below ), indicating in passage that ezra might receive phone calls or visits at random times during the day to ensure he is exactly where he is supposed to be . he is not to miss any day of duty or take part in any trainee activity or opportunity taking place during the month. “if you build our trust in you again, and take this punishment seriously, we will reassess your situation during the last week of october. this isn’t permanent, ezra, and we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t feel it’s necessary.”
once the discussion is over he goes to the door, opening it for ezra. “your future is up to you. if you truly want to be a part of this team, you know what you have to do. now go on, you have a lot to do.”
        of course, he’s in trouble.
        why wouldn’t he be, considering all the things he’s done?  things that hyuncheol has delightfully listed out to him, as if ezra’s been blissfully ignorant of his wrongdoings.
        no, he knows he’s done wrong.  he knows there were better ways to approach each and every situation, but what’s the point in trying if no one expects that out of him?
        he scoffs when hyuncheol brings up the interview.  purses his lips.  folds his arms across his chest as he stares blankly at the head manager.
        of course, hyuncheol is ashamed of his behavior.  how’s that any different from the shame his parents felt raising him to be prim and proper, a son they could be proud of, only to be repaid with a shredded degree, holes in walls, and an empty bed for weeks at a time?  
        truth is, there’s not much of a difference.
        he’s been called to the dinner table, to his father’s office, to his mother’s desk.  each time, they would ask him to close the door.  sit down.  and like hyuncheol, they would proceed to list everything he’s done wrong.  and every time he’d shift to the edge of his seat, his shoulders bent forward, lips parting to make his case—he’d be silenced.  forced to bite his tongue, forced to retreat back into the chair.  hyuncheol should thank his parents for disciplining him, for keeping him seated, small, submissive.
        ‘what have you accomplished so far in your life that makes you think you have the right to speak in that tone?’
        nothing.
        it doesn’t come from a place of arrogance, though he wishes it does.  no, it comes from accomplishing nothing.  he doesn’t have what his sisters have.  he doesn’t have their charisma, their perseverance, their familial connection.  they’re brilliant, successful, good.  and the stronger the light beams on them, raising them to that pedestal they deserve to be on, the farther into the shadow he seeps.
        his parents were thrilled to have a son—someone to carry on the family name—but he’s sure now that they’re thinking it’s better if the line ends with them.
        that doesn’t bother him.
        it’s old news.
        they don’t see anything in him anymore, and they’ve made that perfectly clear by keeping radio silent for the past few months.
        and now, here’s hyuncheol saying that they see something in him.  these are words that he has always wanted to hear—but they don’t sit right.  not in this tone, not in this context.
        the burden of proof is on him.  usually, it is.  and usually, he fucks it up.  sometimes they’re simple human mistakes, but these simple human mistakes end up weighing more ‘cause people have the tendency to look for the bad.  it’s what they’re used to seeing in him.  it’s comfortable, easier to process.
        so if they see him this way regardless, again, what’s the point?
        he peers down at the calendar presented before him.  chores.  punishment.  as if any of this is going to change the perception people have of him.
        “public humiliation seems to run in the company,”  he comments, remembering his first interaction with yang joshua.  "good thing i don’t have much shame.“
        he folds up the piece of paper, tucks it into his pocket, and rises to his feet.  as he approaches the door, his gaze levels with hyuncheol’s own.
        ”see you on friday,“  he says, this time in korean.
===
OOC NOTE:
ezra has been put on probation for the month of october. the reasons are stated in the prompt but if you have any question regarding any part of this prompt, feel free to message us. this of course does not reflect our feelings towards ezra ooc, but there are ic rules that all trainees must follow if they wish to stay in the company for the long run. he will not take part in any training with a coach during the month of october, but he may use empty practice rooms after his work shifts (and is strongly encouraged to do so so he won’t fall behind his peers).
he can’t participate in any activity taking place in october for the time being, which includes the monthly sns post for october. he will be met by kim hyuncheol again in the last week of october to assess how his month has been and of course, if ezra wishes, reinstate him into training with the others. once he joins training again, while he might be observed a little more closely for a while, please know that he will not be held back from participating in activities again and will not be treated any differently than his peers.
below is his schedule for october
monday: serve food at the cafeteria (8am to 5pm)
tuesday: clean bathrooms and locker rooms (8am to 5pm)
wednesday: run errands for managers (8am to 5pm)
thursday: clean floors and practice room mirrors (3pm to 12am)
friday: study korean in hyuncheol’s office with random testing (8am to 5pm)
saturday: sit and do nothing in dorm under manager supervision (8am to 5pm)
sunday: sit and do nothing in hyuncheol’s office under his supervision (8am to 12pm)
if you wish, you can also write one solo of 300 words minimum about any part of his schedule written above to gain +5 korean and a greater chance of being back on kim hyuncheol’s good side at the end of the month. of course, he will still need to be on his best behavior at all times. make sure to submit the link to your solo to lgcmanager before adding your points. while not writing anything won’t impact him negatively, it won’t impact him positively either.  again, if you have any question or worry, please message us. we can help you figure out which activity he can take part in if you’re unsure!
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What to Watch this Holiday Season!
Life can get a little busy for all of us this time of year. Some of us may find it a little difficult to get into the holiday spirit. Most of the time I find watching a Christmas film or show helps to boost the spirits. So I have compiled a list of film suggestions that I have compiled and continued to watch every year.  For me, I watch a lot of these films when I making my dozens upon dozens of Pizzelles during the Christmas season. 
Please keep in mind there is no ranking system to this list, it is just a list. Some films I have already written about previously. Others I have watched but not have written. Also, like my thanksgiving list, I do have an honorable mention section as well. So here is my list. 
1. White Christmas- 1954: For me, this film has been one of the first films I watch right after Thanksgiving, normally Black Friday or during the weekend. To be honest I think it is mainly because of the music.  Most have heard of this musical, and even listen to songs during the holiday season but if you have yet to watch it, the story is a song and dance team become involved with a sister act who help out an owner of a failing Vermont Inn Owner who was their commanding officer. This film has an all-star cast; Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, & Vera-Ellen.  A fun fact about this film this is not the first time the song White Christmas has appeared on film and sung by Bing Crosby. The first time Bing Crosby sang White Christmas was during the film Holiday Inn in 1942.
2. Miracle on 34th Street-1947: The first time I watched this film was probably when I was 10 or 11. Yes, I was 10 or 11 watching a black and white film! It always came on right after the parade. When a nice old man who claims to be Santa Claus is institutionalized as insane, a young lawyer decides to defend him by arguing in court that he is the real thing. I don’t know if it was Natalie Wood, Maureen O’Hara, or Edmund Gwen who made me a believer in Santa when I was young, but this film has the potential to make even the Grinch a believer.
3. It’s a Wonderful Life-1946: Growing up this film has always been a Christmas Eve Tradition in my family. This the one film I never watch before Christmas Eve. I am happy to say this tradition continues to live on even as we have gotten older. Some may say this is the number one Christmas movie of all time, which they are probably right. It is just a wonderful film. For those who have not seen this film, the synopsis is an angel is sent from heaven to help a desperately frustrated businessman by showing him what life would be like if he never existed. This film was directed by Frank Capra and stars Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, and Henry Travers. 
4. The Shop Around The Corner-1940: If you search through my blog you will find this is one of my favorite films. Also, some may realize this film has since been remade with You’ve Got Mail. This is a fun romantic comedy starring Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. The story goes two employees at a gift shop can barely stand each other, without realizing they are falling in love through the post as each other’s anonymous pen pals. You may wonder why a film such as this has made my list, well the gift shop is gearing up for the Christmas rush and the film concludes wonderfully at the end with sweet Christmas present. 
5. Christmas in Connecticut-1945: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. But this film is great on so many levels. This film gives us a look into what Christmas was like in the mid-’40s. Somethings may have changed, but some things have stayed the same. The synopsis is A food writer Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck) who has lied about being the perfect housewife must try to cover her deception when her boss (Sydney Greenstreet) and a returning war hero (Dennis Morgan) invite themselves to her home for a traditional family Christmas.  
6. The Man Who Came to Dinner-1942: imagine its weeks before Christmas and you have your favorite radio personality coming to dinner at your house. He slips and hurts his hip, and cannot travel until after Christmas. Well, this is what happens in this film. Sheridan Whiteside takes up house and runs the show for the duration of the film until his personal secretary gives him a run for his money. 
*Fun Facts about films 5 & 6 cast Fun facts about the cast, most of the actors have all acted previously together in other films. Sydney Greenstreet and S.Z. Sakall was in Casablanca in 1942 with Claude Raines and Paul Henreid who both were in Now Voyager 1942 with Bette Davis who was in The Man Who Came to Dinner 1942 with Reginald Gardiner who played John Sloan who is Elizabeth’s love interest in Christmas in Connecticut.*
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7. Love Actually-2003: a great British comedy. This film follows the lives of eight very different couples in dealing with their love lives in various loosely interrelated tales all set during the month before Christmas in London. The 
8.Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer-1964: this is a Christmas classic for young and old. We all know the songs and who Burl Ives is. 
9. Charlie Brown Christmas-1965: Another classic for those young and old. At times we all feel lost and we all want to find the true meaning of Christmas. I am sure most of us continue to watch this multiple times through the Christmas season as I do. 
10. Polar Express-2004: It happens, heck to some of us it happened way too early. We stopped believing in Christmas.
11. The Bishop’s Wife-1947: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. This film stars Loretta Young, Cary Grant, and David Niven. Julia Brougham (Young) is a woman of great strength, who longs for the days she can spend with her husband Bishop Henry Brougham (Niven). The Bishop is so bogged down with financial woes because of building a new Cathedral, in the beginning, he feels his wife doesn’t support him and that causes a strain on their relationship. Dudley (Grant) is an angel who is sent in human form to help both Julia and the Bishop. Without giving too much away, Dudley doesn’t cause trouble, but the Bishop doesn’t quite understand what Dudley is doing and what caused him to show up. This film definitely gives me the heartwarming feeling of the holidays. It’s a film that you can curl up on the couch with a cup of cocoa, and blanket while watching or curl up on the couch with a glass of red wine and blanket like me.
12. A Christmas Story- 1983: let’s face it we all wanted that one thing that is equivalent to the Red Rider BB Gun. It’s just a fun movie. 
13. National Lampoons Christmas Vacation-1989: This is another film that comes with a little tradition as well. My father had me watch this film for the first time when I was like 12. This film takes the idea of family coming in for Christmas and puts a complete 360-degree spin on it. Everything that could go wrong does.
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14. Elf-2003: Whimsical films are always welcome. Deep down we are all a little kid on the inside
15. Scrooged-1988: there are a lot of adaptations and remakes of a Christmas Carol out there. Scrooged is the most comical version I have seen. A selfish, cynical television executive is haunted by three spirits bearing lessons on Christmas Eve.
16. Meet Me in St.Louis-1944: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. Some people consider this a Christmas movie because of Judy Garland’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” She sings to Margaret O’Brien at night time on Christmas Eve and it makes Margaret and the rest of us think of better days ahead.
17. Holiday Inn-1942: A great musical starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. At an inn which is only open on holidays, a singer and a dance vie for the affections of a beautiful new performer. This film also marks the first appearance of the song White Christmas sung by Bing Crosby. 
18.Home Alone-1990: This film has always been a childhood favorite of mine. I remember when my brother and I got it on VHS and we immediately watched it. An 8-year-old boy must protect his house from a pair of burglars when he is accidentally left home alone by family during Christmas Vacation. This film has always been a favorite of mine and I am sure it will be in film rotation soon. 
19. It Happened on Fifth Avenue-1947: this is a heartwarming film that still holds up today. It provides a look at the class systems in the ’40s through the eyes of the rich and the poor. A homeless New Yorker moves into a mansion and along the way, he gathers friends to live in the house with him. Before he knows it, he is living with the actual homeowners. 
20. Jingle All The Way-1996: Like Home Alone, this is another childhood classic. I first watched this film when I was younger at my babysitter's house. A father vows to get his son a Turbo Man action figure for Christmas. However, every store is sold out of them. He must travel all over town and compete with everybody else in order to find one.
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Honorable Mention: 
As you have already read this list is quite extensive I couldn’t list all the films. However, here is a couple for those in-between times where the film may not be on tv or you may have gotten overruled when using the main tv. So here they are.
1. The Santa Claus Movies (1,2,3) 1994, 2002, 2006: I think a lot of people underestimate these films or forget these films do fill the holiday spirit. 
2. Santa Claus is Coming to Town-1970: We all need to reminded of the story of Santa Claus as told by Fred Astaire. 
3. Holiday Affair-1949: We all need a little Christmas romance starring Janet Leigh and Robert Mitchum. A young widow is romanced by a sales clerk who she inadvertently got fired. 
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survivingcapitalism · 5 years
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A Canadian Postal Worker’s Comments on the Strike
Hi.  
I am a postal worker and would like to take a moment of your time.  Unless you have been living in a cave in the mountains of West Virginia you will have no doubt heard that Canada Post and its employees are in the middle of contract negotiations and currently engaged in limited strike action.  The limited strike action I speak of is the rotating strikes and a refusal to work overtime.  These are designed to cause a slight delay in the mail stream that impacts management more than our customers, and to our customers, I am sorry for any slight delay you may experience but there is a reason why we are doing this.  
Part of the nature of the current conflict is that not only are our issues complex but so is the workforce itself, and by that I mean it is incredibly diverse.  Not only are we trying to negotiate 2 different contracts at the same time, but these contracts cover both RSMC and city workers which include both inside and outside workers, temporary employees, maintenance workers in addition to people who's job can be a combination of more then one classification.  Of course wages are an issue as they are with anyone and I wont pretend to say we wouldn't like a raise, however it is the working conditions that are much more important to us and something almost no one understands unless they work here.  Everyone can see how hard roofers and nurses work, but when you do the job, you gain a completely different understanding of what they go through.  
 Did you know that Canada Post does NOT receive funding from the government? There is a good chance you didn't.  All of Canada Post's revenue comes from the selling of stamps and shipping fees. We are self sufficient.   Even if you did know this, you might be surprised to know how many people do not know this.  
One of our major issues deals with staffing for both inside and outside workers.  There are many RSMC's in the country that still have to find their own replacements.  That means if you want to take a vacation, or get sick or injured that YOU have to find someone to sort and deliver your route.   Can you think of any other business like that short of being an independent contractor?  Keep in mind these are not contractors but Canada Post employees. If you cant make it to work for what ever reason, does your boss tell you it's your responsibility to find someone to do your work?  Canada Post has also agreed to a minimum staffing ration of permanent employees to temporary employees.  They have been ignoring this ratio for several years now.  
Staffing issues in general are also at the heart of the forced overtime issues.  Although many inside and outside (letter carrier) workers regularly volunteer for overtime it is the outside workers that are also FORCED to do overtime. This means that unless you have medical documentation stating that for health reasons you cannot do the overtime, you are forced to do it or face disciplinary action.  Did you make prior commitments for when you thought you would be off work such as picking up kids from daycare, or school or making a dentist or Dr. appointment?.  To bad, you have to change your life at the last min.  That being said, sometimes things happen that are beyond everyone's control, but I think you can agree that this shouldn't happen on a regular basis and there can be a better way to meet all of our customers delivery commitments.  
When it comes to being a temporary employee, I think most of us have been there, working mostly contract jobs or seasonal work.  The difference at Canada Post is that you just sit at home waiting for a phone call.  Most people will go months without getting that phone call for some work.  You might also work this week, but not the next 3 weeks, or at times, you may work for most of the year full time.  You never know.  You only get a call if and when they want you.  This makes it very difficult to plan out any sort of life.  Will you need a babysitter tomorrow?  You probably wont know until the very last minute of that day.
You may have heard the term “overburdening” mentioned by the union in the news but what does that really mean?  For letter carriers anyways, what that means is the overall work load and how the job is preformed.   Canada Post to their credit were at the forefront of job efficiency measurement at a micro level.  This is a very fancy way to saying every part of a letter carriers job was measured decades ago.  Every foot of distance on our route, every stair, gate, door, etc. is counted and assigned a time value.  Even how many letters per min we are supposed to sort is built into our day.  Part of the problem is sometimes these values go missing and so do not get counted in the making of new routes.  A more significant issue is that this system has not really been updated in decades despite the nature of how we do our job has changed a great deal.  
Nearly everyone will agree the number of letters we write and send each other has been in decline for a long time, but think of how many offers you get from your bank, or the dealership where you bought your car or some other business looking to make you a customer.  We still deliver all of those things yet most are not used in the calculations used to determine the size of our routes.  This has caused the size of a letter carriers route to grow dramatically.  Many routes are 3 times the size they were 20 years ago.   A letter carrier typically walks 20 km a day (5 days a week) and up and down 3000 to 5000 stairs while carrying the mail, flyers and packets/parcels for over 100 houses at a time.  This is a key reason why the injury rate for postal workers is 5 times higher then any other profession.  It is also a reason why letter carriers have more back, knee, hip and foot surgery then anyone else.  One simple fix to this would be to make the amount we deliver at one time less, such as 50 houses as opposed to 100 houses.   The opposition to this is because adding even just 6 extra stops would mean having to make the route shorter by 12 min (we get 2 min per loop stop to load up our satchel with mail).  I sounds like such a simple fix, and it is, but yet Canada Post says no. Part of the reason is that it would require updating and fixing 18,000 routes from coast to coast. An easy fix, but time consuming to implement and it is apparently less expensive to pay out disability cheques then to fix things.  It is also much easier to make someone do more in the same amount of time and reduce jobs.  In the end, it would also require hiring more employees but I guess they think it is such a horrible thing to employ people.  
The subject of the multiple bundle delivery method as a health and safety concern has been an ongoing fight with little change despite several arbitrator rulings in favor of the employees.  In order to fully explain the situation would require an essay unto itself but any letter carrier will gladly take the time to talk to you about it.  All you have to do is ask.
 On top of the mail and flyers, are all the things we deliver to you that you ordered from places like Amazon, or Allied express or Wish.  Delivering those items as well as the use of our scanner have almost no time value associated with them.  Despite every part of our job being measured to the second, the system has not been updated to properly include our new duties.  We are simply required to do them. If we do not get all of the work done, we get questioned as to why with very little concern to things such as the weather conditions and can face disciplinary action.  
This is a very simplistic overview of some of the issues currently being fought at the negotiating table, and I would hope it peeks your interest enough to ask your postal worker for more information.
We are your brothers and sisters, your neighbors and friends and in the end we simply would like to do our job feeling more like a person and less like a machine. 
We want to work and we love our job.  We love to be greeted by that lovable furball that wants to lick us to death when all we seem to have for you is a pizza flyer.  We wear our uniform with pride and in the end only want to be able to go home happy and injury free and not feeling defeated and broken, wondering how we will make it through tomorrow.  
Thank You for your time.
(Copy Pasted from Brother Arlyn Doran)
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